My site has been hacked and I have lost all of my photo galleries, or more accurately, no one can see them but me. Somehow I have to figure out in the website settings how to link everything up again so it’s visible. It’s uber frustrating, but then it did get me back here didn’t it? Here’s to reconnecting the old photos and to the posting of new photos soon. With great love to all who visit here… diana
Please take a look at the new tall ships gallery. These were shot this year at the Newport Tall Ships Festival.
Unbelievably I have forgotten how to remember to log in to my own website controls panel. Figured it out finally and I’m logging in to let you know I’ll be cranking up the creative generator again to start producing my work again. Please visit my fundraising link and give a little bit
I am looking for photos of an old friend who died recently. I know I must have at least one or two somewhere, but I have boxes and boxes and boxes of photographs that haven’t been looked at practically since the time when they were taken. They range from all the way back to my earliest childhood, when my father was an avid photographer. He had his beloved darkroom in our garage, partially I am sure, to escape the chaos of living with his five children. I’m not touching the childhood boxes (and I do mean boxes) of photos, but am sorting only those starting from when I was in my late teens/early twenties, and then proceeding to when I got married, then divorced, of course up until the time I switched to digital.
I know this gargantuan task won”t get done until I take the first photo’s out of their boxes, and start the sorting, but I don’t know just where to start. So tonight I took a deep breath, poured a glass of wine and grabbed photos out of the nearest box and began making piles. So far, there’s the Long Beach pre-marriage pile. Then there are the piles that start from when I married. These are sub-divided into the years we lived in Kansas on the farm, the years we lived next to the volunteer fire department and then out in the country in Missouri, and finally one for where we spent our last five years together in Texas while I was finishing my nursing degree. The final pile marks the new era which began when I came back to Long Beach as a single mom, and ends (obviously) when I went digital.
It’s quite daunting to look at the piles started, and think about the piles to come that will need to be culled with surgical precision. Then after that painful process, there will be the decision about whether to keep the negatives or toss them and be stuck scanning photos until I ruin what little vision I have left. I’m only through two boxes and one bag this evening, and already I am stunned at the amount of photographs I have accumulated. I have been reminded tonight, that there are wonderful memories I had completely forgotten, but I have also noted an alarming gap in my memory as I wonder who the heck the folks in some of these photos are. But it’s also fun, sort of like looking for buried treasure. And whose bright idea was it to stop printing the date on the back of photographs anyway??
I believe that Cliff wrote this sometime during the six months prior to his death.
“In a place not so far away if you know how to find it, rests the soul’s abode. The “abiding place.” Time does not rule. Neither does space. The distance between desire and fulfillment is only a thought. The manifold essence of light converges, and dances the dance of eternal harmony. From the throne, the Uncreated One shines forth the freshness of His grace ad mercy so powerfully; nothing exists except His will. And the angels cry “holy, holy, holy.” We drown ourselves in the River that flows from the throne. Yet – it’s waters bring life to us! They wash the tears, the stains. Harm does not exist. Truth without injury; peace without compromise. Purity without exclusion; love beyond control. We awake from our soul’s slumber that began as a dream, so long ago.”
Clifford W. Kraus, October 19, 1954 ~ February 6, 2011
Long Beach California. City of my childhood and my growing up into adulthood. I love this city, and the way it’s ethnic diversity clashes, collides and ultimately blends together into a most flavorful stew. It is both spicy and oh so delicious, and there is no other place quite like it in my most un-humble opinion. Some of my Orange County acquaintances scoff and scorn, dropping hints that intimate that it is disgusting, or dirty, or dangerous. But they don’t know my Long Beach. The Long Beach I love is diverse and complex, and like anything underestimated, it is slightly dangerous to the uninitiated.
There are so many neighborhoods I love I can’t name them all, but the beautiful canals of Naples will do to start. This lovely area brings a European flair with a serenity not found elsewhere in the city; with it’s bridges and boats tied up in the canals behind the homes seated elegantly at the waters edge. Then just steps away there is nearby Belmont Shore, which feels so much like every lovely and lively beach town along our beautiful coast. Strolling it’s sidewalks will make you feel free and trendy, and yet, it is also kicked back and easy. There are loads of interesting shops and eateries; and it is a delight both day and night. Travel west along the coast to Pine street and the Nu Pike, and you will find night life and restaurants galore. And if you stroll the East Village, you will see it is becoming home to art and artists and is one of my favorite places to explore. There is MOLAA and and the LB Museum of Art, and the Aquarium of the Pacific for lovers of the sea and all it holds. But there is more, and we shouldn’t forget the west side which still has such stubborn pride, and the North side which is struggling with valiant effort to renovate and revitalize… There is Poly, Jordan, and Wilson High Schools and their long histories of proud accomplishments, and of course all of the new schools I don’t know and am leaving out. There’s LBCC, and CSULB, and more! There is the new Bixby Knolls which is reawakening with a vengeance, with shops and restaurants and street beautification, revitalization and it’s First Fridays campaign which has become like a monthly street party with music, food and drink, and friendly shop owners enticing the public to see their wares. There are the stately homes of Virginia Country Club and Los Cerritos, and there is the Historic Los Cerritos Rancho! And there are the adorable bungalows and Spanish style homes of California Heights, and the incredible diversity of homes and cultures in Wrigley heights… There is the Gay Ghetto with all of it’s beautifully re-gentrified homes, and 4th street weird and it’s funky delights… there are coffee shops and internet cafes, and I could go on and on… but it would seem like I was gushing and I have run out of time. People who dis Long Beach don’t know Long Beach.. It is a city that has much pride, and much to be proud of. Long Beach I love you!
tonight I toast the memory of my friend Cliff who lost his life last week… and I toast the courage of my patient David, who sings and laughs in the face of his pain… I toast a future, that while it is uncertain, it is not discouraging; and I toast each step of the journey, and pray for eyes to see that there is a bridge over every ravine. Each step of my sojourn is a lesson the moment I am willing to learn it
Life is filled with challenges both exhilarating and debilitating, and how I perceive the quality of my life directly relates to how I perceive my challenges. Do I always seem to look at difficult circumstances as “bad” or “unfair.” No. But on the other hand, do I look for the lesson in all that befalls me, whether fair or foul? Well of course not, I am human after all. I know that I don’t always respond in a way that produces growth in my life when I’m in the fiery furnace, however, it’s never too late to glean the “lessons” that come my way, and grow and produce “good fruit” in my life as a result. What I do know for sure, is that if I let a root of anger or bitterness grow in my life, then I produce angry and bitter fruit. But if I look for the lessons in whatever befalls me, and allow myself to grow from these experiences, then I produce good ripe and succulent fruit. I want people to reach into my life and taste my fruit and see that it is good. How about you? I want to be a succulent photographer please.