Inspired by vegetables!

I was simply strolling through the produce aisle the other day, gathering my tomatoes and zucchini for dinner, when shazam! -- I encountered the most breathtaking artichokes I'd ever seen.

Their silvery petals bent uniformly inward, like a delicate flower (which I guess they are!). Completely spherical, these were. Unique little orbs of goodness. I had to have them--not so much as a tasty appetizer--but for a photographic study.

Once I had these little beauties home on my kitchen counter, I gathered up all their little fruit and veggie compatriots and we went into the studio. My mother even contributed lemons and pineapple for contrast. Am I making you hungry yet?

Flying in a Cessna isn't for sissies

Did I tell you about the time my dad’s friend took us flying?

Jeff and Neil, Dad’s walking buddies, have a little Cessna that they hangar near Mojave, so we headed out there one fall day when I was visiting. I had been interested in going flying with them since I became enthralled with the San Andreas fault and Dad mentioned the guys would be happy to fly me over sections of the fault near his home in Palmdale.

That trip never came together, but this sunny fall day, Dad and Jeff and I went for a spin.

Jeff, the pilot, let me sit in the co-pilot’s seat so I could take pictures. We taxied out on the runway and poof! were in the air. I had my headset on so I could hear Jeff if he needed to communicate with me, and they helped muffle the steady whine of the engine.

Our route took us toward the mountain pass leading to Lake Isabella, where we would land and have supposedly the best burger this side of the Pecos.

Now, usually I’m a very good flyer. I’ve been in lots of small commercial jets and prop planes, and whenever we’ve hit turbulence, I go into a sort of Lamaze-breathing trance that sees me through quite well.

And this trip wasn’t too rough. The sensation of being in such a small craft as drafts and eddies cause it to hop and skip along does take some getting used to, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I just sat back and relaxed and enjoyed the stellar view.

After a while, Jeff asked me, “Do you mind if I get the nose up a bit?”

Why should I mind?

“You just fly the plane anyhow you need to. You’re the pilot,” I assured him.

I didn’t quite understand the significance of his query.

After heading what seemed to be straight up, Jeff dropped the nose suddenly and sent us plummeting back to earth.

Mind you, Dad, sitting in the back seat, was without earphones and had no idea what was happening. To his credit (and mine!) we remained silent. Perhaps we were preoccupied with the condition of our drawers.
After a few moments, we leveled off and Jeff explained that he was trying to open flap on the piton tube. Without air streaming into the tube, the airspeed indicator didn’t work.

Not good!

Our experienced pilot wasn’t too concerned, however, as he simply kept up a good, steady pace, probably well above what was needed to keep us safely aloft. It did mean, however, that we would have to bypass the landing and our burgers.

The rest of our flight was beautiful, albeit a bit bumpy over the mountains. My Lamaze breathing trick failed me, but fortunately I hadn’t anything in my stomach. What a view!

I’m glad I went, although I was really glad we didn’t head over to Catalina or some crazy thing like that.
I happily retire my Cessna wings.

Join us for a ride in the following video:

Pardon me, DMV -- it's none of your business!

Every time I have to renew my driver’s license, I get stuck in a cycle of guilt and vanity worthy of Perseus. You see, it’s been several years since the last renewal, which can only mean that one or more pieces of information on the document is no longer accurate. And I don’t mean the color of my eyes.

You know what I mean.

Yes, my weight. I can’t believe that the number that so horrified me at age 21 now seems an unrealistic ideal. Heck, if I weighed that now I’d be a vision – a goddess, I tell you. That number (that I won’t mention) was then dozens less than my young husband. A respectable female-male gap then existed that remained for several years.

And then the duplicity began.

I did pretty well at keeping the “fat” wolf at bay until my mid- to late thirties. But then, as my driver’s license renewals came due, “that number” didn’t get updated nearly as often as my photo. After all, I was just carrying a few extra pounds temporarily.

There were all sorts of very valid reasons:

1. I just moved to a new house.
2. I was just starting a new job.
3. The kids were driving me crazy.
4. It was November.
5. The sun was out.

Anyway, by the time it became obvious that I wasn’t going to reclaim my age-21 weight, I was stuck. And I think it’s the DMV’s fault.

No, really. I do. Think about it: the first time you renew, all you have to do is send in a check and they reissue the license with all the previous information intact. The next time they only ask that you go in and get a new photo.

“Same address?”

“Yes.”

“Step over here for your photo.”

Eventually you have to take the test again, and the clerk will probably ask if all the information is still correct. What are you supposed to say?

“Everything’s the same but I now dye my hair blonde.”

Come on, they know people change their hair color. So I just give ‘em what it was originally. I guess. I forget.

Address? Check. Been the same for 22 years.

Eyes? Blue-green. Blue. Whatever. That doesn’t change.

Then, the pause.

“Uh, excuse me, sir. Could you bump up my weight by 30 pounds? I’d hate to be found left for dead and the officer not be able to recognize me from the description on my license.”

Yeah, right.

It’d be different if I were simply filling out a form and some clerk just typed in the data. But to make this particular change, you have to actually call their attention to the fact that you’ve been enjoying too much ice cream for far too long. Then they give you the smirk. The knowing non-smile. They don’t say a word. Bastards.

So, naturally, I’d rather avoid all that.

Judging by my driver’s license, I’m the picture of fitness. And what goes past the checker on the conveyor belt at the grocery store has no connection to the weight on my license, right? What happens in Safeway stays in Safeway.

“Did you put my Oreos in the bag with the Slimfast?” I ask as I put away my ID.

You gotta love a woman who could play poker with James Bond.

Tall ships in Old Sacramento

My head's still swimming with all the sunshine we've been having. The cold, crisp nights and bright sunny days have produced what, IMHO, has been the BEST fall color Sacramento's ever seen! At least in the 23 years I've lived here.

Last week I kidnapped Fred for a stop off at Old Sacramento's port to see if the old-school tall ships were still there. Making our way to the riverbank, we discovered the most beautiful scene right behind the railroad museum:
I wanted to grab any ol' couple and do an impromptu photo session. The sad thing is, this spot will not stay this way for long.

Meandering down the dock, we watched the train come into the station. The steam boiled over as the engine was refueled.
Sadly, the old sailing ship was nowhere to be seen. The docks were abuzz with visitors, and for once it was fun to linger in the ol' tourist trap. We continued across Capitol to the south of Tower Bridge. Lo and behold -- the old sailing ship was making its way back to port!

Though a rainstorm threatened, sun regularly broke through the grey and backlit the ship's sails. I realized what had to happen next, and soon a deafening horn warned vehicle and pedestrians to get off the bridge! (As you can see, the school-bus-yellow paint that everyone worried was too bright has indeed mellowed into the glint of a gold nugget.)

Even the old ziggurat building was in rare form.

Satisfied with our inspection of the Hawaiian Chieftain, Fred and I wandered back by the taffy store, blissfully happy about our afternoon date.

Sure beats reruns of Cheyenne.

It's all in the light...

Tonight a few photographer friends and I got together for a little experimentation with lighting. One of our PPSV members, Ruben Gonzalez, who recently earned his PPA Certification, led a session of advanced lighting techniques. I'll just call it, "Getting it right with video light."

The lovely Leah was our model. In this dramatic image, we lit the model through the slats of a bamboo tea tray to mimic a moonlit night through shutters. It was amazing to see what a beautiful result you can get with such modest set.

Nothing like a fun night playing around with light to refresh and invigorate the creative spirit. Thank you for your patience, Leah!

Puppy love

I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow I got the rep for being a dog-hater. Me! a hater!

This, just because I don't cuddle up in bed with a couple of hundred-pound canines. Under the covers. Pushing me off. On my pillow. Yech.

Now, don't get me wrong. I've walked my dogs (yes, plural) over the years. It's just that taking them with me sometimes causes more trouble when we confront other pups on their territory. I like my walks to be more serene. Quiet -- that's what I like.

I admit that when I come home and say hi to whomever is present, I don't usually notice that my Australian shepherd mix-mutt is desperate for my attention. To her credit, Freckles persists in tap-dancing before me, click-clacking on the Pergo, non-stop, until I have no choice but to show her the love.

Lately, I've indulged her a little more quickly than usual. Rubbing her ears, which, if she's just come in from outdoors, are frosty and need warming. Tempting her with nose-to-almost-nose contact... no licking! Scratching that place in the middle of her rump that's hard to reach.

She really is sweet. Never messes in the house. Always obeys. Even eats those barbecue chips Fred throws her way, even though it doesn't look like she likes them.

Heck, she's not so bad. And if I'd keep up my pet-owner responsibility of brushing her with the special $40 hair remover once in a while, I wouldn't even have that much to complain about. And it's good for my blood pressure.

But I draw the line at my bed. Sorry.

Jasmine Star comes to PPSV

She came, she shared, she conquered!

Jasmine Star may be relatively new to the photography business, but she certainly lives up to her name.

At last night's meeting of the Professional Photographers of Sacramento Valley, Jasmine shared her philosophy and the secrets to her success--and challenged us to send her photos of her in action. As all I had was my Canon G9, and the house was packed, this video will have to do!

The house was packed with regulars and guests who follow her blog. I know I'll be stalking her from now on.

She was truly an inspiration the way she uses new media to connect with her clients. Hopefully just a couple of megawatts of her energy rubbed off on me!