364/365

This is a kind of symbolic family portrait. No matter what I am doing, in my heart there is harmony and rhythm and music. It comes from the sweet life that Brad and I have created with Sawyer and Zola.

More than anyone else, I owe the three of them a huge thank you for the time they gave me to pursue this project, along with their enthusiasm, support, and opinions throughout. Sawyer helped choose the daily photo more than once and Zola frequently told me how “tool” my pictures were.

Brad has been there for every one of the 364 days to take over the chores and the children as needed and allow me time to create, to look at the photos, read the posts, boost my spirits, and be every bit the dream of a man I was lucky enough to marry.

Only one of the 365 remains but the days and dreams to come are boundless.

guitar trio (brad, sawyer, zola)

359/365

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

carolers

346/365

An extreme winter day. So much so, we couldn’t go past our own doorstep. The snow swooped off rooftops and swept sideways down the street. We watched it all unfold, happily snowbound, giddy with the awesome and terrible power of nature.

winter snapshot

344/365

Because the children are yawning and the snow is coming and Frank O’Hara is so cool and I really do sometimes wish I was a painter, I recommend reading Why I Am Not A Painter. While you’re at it, why not ponder whether Van Gogh’s madness was really caused by lead poisoning from sticking his paint brushes in his mouth…or something less tangible – like rejection. Or genius.

paintbrushes

338/365

These snowmen seem sinister to me – more grotesque than jolly. They would be right at home in a twisted tale of Toyland, like Tim Burton’s Frosty the Snowman.

snowmen

331/365

You’d think that we, of the frozen tundra, would prepare for winter around Labor Day. But we dawdle away the warm days of autumn, believing we have just a little more time. Winter is rarely subtle in the north. The world really can change overnight, leaving the things of summer suspended until the vernal breezes blow once more.

garden hose with icicles

326/365

 – And then life sends you back to bed, to dreamland, while outside, the starfish drift through the channel, with smiles on their starry faces as they head out to deep water, to the far and boundless sea. –

(from a really terrific poem called starfish, by Eleanor Lerman)

starfish

325/365

I’m not a cat person, as a rule. Then I met Carew. He regarded me as an equal (in typical feline fashion) and I got lost in the gossamer strands of his dashing whiskers.

carew the cat

320/365

It’s not all stark in the great, frozen north. This luscious array filled me with its abundant color and texture, and the scents of juniper and birch. There is a warmth – of love, and life, and beauty –  that keeps us aglow, even on the chilliest winter nights.

seasonal still life

317/365

There is something about your unflinching response to your own childrens’ vomit that really makes you feel like a mom. Zola and I shared the flu yesterday. She got the throw-up. I got the aches and fever. Soda and saltines were pretty much the only things I wanted to look at.

the classic remedy