The Urge for Going

One day I will go. I'll go where I can be warm year round. I'll have a citrus tree outside of my kitchen window and I'll dress in single layers.

I awoke today and found the frost perched on the town
It hovered in a frozen sky, then it gobbled summer down
When the sun turns traitor cold
and all trees are shivering in a naked row
I get the urge for going but I never seem to go
I get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown

Summertime is falling down and winter is closing in
I had me a man in summertime
He had summer-colored skin
And not another girl in town
My darling's heart could win
But when the leaves fell on the ground
And bully winds came around pushed them face down in the snow
He got the urge for going and I had to let him go
He got the urge for going
When the meadow grass was turning brown

And summertime was falling down and winter was closing in
Now the warriors of winter they gave a cold triumphant shout
And all that stays is dying and all that lives is getting out
See the geese in chevron flight flapping and racing on before the snow
They've got the urge for going and they've got the wings so they can go
They get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown

Summertime is falling down and winter is closing in
I'll ply the fire with kindling and pull the blankets to my chin
I'll lock the vagrant winter out and I'll bolt my wandering in
I'd like to call back summertime and have her stay for just another month or so
But she's got the urge for going so I guess she'll have to go
She get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown
And all her empires are falling down
And winter's closing in
And I get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown
And summertime is falling down

Thank God for Joni Mitchell

Most of my waking hours are spent in the car, with children, driving to various activities, carpooling, late night pick ups, etc. Radio blasting, heart pounding bass that cause the drivers next to me to stare with disapproval as if they are saying "How can you let your children listen to that?"

I wont lie, there are some songs that I enjoy for their beat alone, and I do appreciate all kinds of artists. I also have to be realistic and accept that this is what is offered to my kids today. I can't control everything they download and sing ( or rap ) along to.

I take pride in knowing, however, that Sara (15) loves Joni Mitchell just as much as I do. For all of the dirty lyrics that tarnish her brain, she still has room for the innocence and simple, beautiful words and work of this wonderful song writer.

Last week, on one of those late night rides home, we listened to our favorite Joni Mitchell songs. Songs I played for her since she was born. She knew every word and we "belted them out" taking the long way home so we could squeeze in another track. It was that moment that inspired me to do a series of photographs based on her musical poetry.

All of her music is a gentle reminder to take the long way home.

 

milkandtoast

Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I heard
Was a song outside my window, and the traffic wrote the words
It came a-reeling up like Christmas bells and rapping up like pipes and drums

Oh, won't you stay
We'll put on the day
And we'll wear it 'till the night comes

Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I saw
Was the sun through yellow curtains, and a rainbow on the wall
Blue, red, green and gold to welcome you, crimson crystal beads to beckon

Oh, won't you stay
We'll put on the day
There's a sun show every second

Now the curtain opens on a portrait of today
And the streets are paved with passersby
And pigeons fly
And papers lie
Waiting to blow away

Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I knew
There was milk and toast and honey and a bowl of oranges, too
And the sun poured in like butterscotch and stuck to all my senses
Oh, won't you stay
We'll put on the day
And we'll talk in present tenses

When the curtain closes and the rainbow runs away
I will bring you incense owls by night
By candlelight
By jewel-light
If only you will stay
Pretty baby, won't you
Wake up, it's a Chelsea morning

Life in the Middle

 
 

Whether or not you are a middle child sandwiched between a bold older sister and an active younger brother, we've all felt stuck. Searching for that "thing" that will set us apart from everyone else, that thing that will get us noticed. What we have lost sight of, however, is that you don't really need to DO anything to be noticed. You just have to BE. Be kind, be generous, be open to the world around you. Be observant and appreciative of nature and all it's glorious colors and textures.

Middle Child- we see you every minute of every day. We see your potential, your sweet soul and your beautiful, creative mind. Your gift and your real talent is that you outshine everyone around you by just being you.

What I Learned This Week

If you have children in public school you can relate to the anxiety of PSSA (Pennsylvania System School Assessment) season. My youngest, Holt, is happy he is allowed to chew gum while tested but the girls both battled terrible colds and would rather have stayed in bed. They did, however, tell me in detail at the end of each day exactly what was being tested. That gave me hope. Sara, 14, shared this poem with me. It spoke to her because she thought it sounded like something I would photograph. When your teenager thinks of you exactly the way you want to be known...priceless. So I will share it with you in hopes that you enjoy your journey until you too are at your peak of ripeness and that along the way you stop to appreciate how beautiful life is.

A WARM SUMMER IN SAN FRANCISCO

Carolyn Miller

Although I watched and waited for it every day,
somehow I missed it, the moment when everything reached
the peak of ripeness. It wasn't at the solstice; that was only
the time of the longest light. It was sometime after that, when
the plants had absorbed all that sun, had taken it into themselves
for food and swelled to the height of fullness. It was in July,
in a dizzy blaze of heat and fog, when on some nights
it was too hot to sleep, and the restaurants set half their tables
on the sidewalks; outside the city, down the coast,
the Milky Way floated overhead, and shooting stars
fell from the sky over the ocean. One day the garden
was almost overwhelmed with fruition:
My sweet peas struggled out of the raised bed onto the mulch
of laurel leaves and bark and pods, their brilliantly colored
sunbonnets of rose and stippled pink, magenta and deep purple
pouring out a perfume that was almost oriental. Black-eyed Susans
stared from the flower borders, the orange cherry tomatoes
were sweet as candy, the corn fattened in its swaths of silk,
hummingbirds spiraled by in pairs, the bees gave up
and decided to live in the lavender. At the market,
surrounded by black plums and rosy plums and sugar prunes
and white-fleshed peaches and nectarines, perfumey melons
and mangos, purple figs in green plastic baskets,
clusters of tiny Champagne grapes and piles of red-black cherries
and apricots freckled and streaked with rose, I felt tears
come into my eyes, absurdly, because I knew
that summer had peaked and was already passing
away. I felt very close then to understanding
the mystery; it seemed to me that I almost knew
what it meant to be alive, as if my life had swelled
to some high moment of response, as if I could
reach out and touch the season, as if I were inside
its body, surrounded by sweet pulp and juice,
shimmering veins and ripened skin.

 

Shannon Zimolong Designs

After moving into my new house I am so happy to add another talented designer to the list of those that inspire me. Shannon Zimolong, you are off to an amazing start! 

Recent Favorites

The last month has brought a ton of activity. Here are a few favorites from recent sittings.