No turning back

Pin It I went out to dinner with a friend tonight.

We went to this lavish restaurant; perhaps you’ve heard of it: Village Inn.

As we sat in the pinkish, cracking, vinyl booth, we conversed about the answers to all of life’s posing questions. Overhead music undulated through the air, via the speakers embedded in the ceiling; like songs playing from the heavens.

As we talked, the music progressed from songs of my childhood to those which have just recently come out. It was as if each song had been selected simply for me…a summation of the transitory years of my life to the current moment.

I felt…blank; like a videocassette that has been recorded over in far too many places with static.

Though all of the music was recognized, I couldn’t readily recall the time I’d first heard each song. There were only fleeting glimpses of memories; tired and washed-out. There were far too many holes; so many open places left behind where I might find myself falling into the nothingness there.

As we finished our meal and made our way into the bracing coldness beyond the swinging glass doors, I turned and began walking to my car. My breath rose in stiff puffs of steam in the night air as I climbed into my CR-V and started the ignition.

I pulled onto the busy avenue, turning my wheels towards home. As I drove along the darkened streets, I found a song from yesterday playing inside my head. As it did, I realized that Tears for Fears were right…

There is no turning back. But still...welcome to your life.

Waiting for Snow

Pin It I awoke this morning, and when I looked out the window I found myself barraged with feelings of nostalgia; I gazed out into a world arrayed in spotless white.

I remembered the first snowfalls from when I was just a boy...

Bundling up in a warm marshmallow coat, with scarf and mittens; anxious to rush out and capture the first flakes upon my tongue. After all, you had to catch it from the sky or you might pick up a handful with snow spiders already in it. Ah, the glistening whiteness which made the entire world new, and the familiar become less than so.

The first snowfall—there’s something truly magical about it, isn’t there?

As I tore my eyes from the window, I fumbled for my camera to capture the moment. But alas, the moment was not to be captured with a photograph, but instead with a snapshot of memory.

So, I share this memory with you with the words and music of John McCutcheon, and his beautifully-written image, Waiting for Snow:




The nights are so long
They shorten the day
Over the mountains
The sky’s turning gray
The geese all fly southward
As homeward they go
I’m sitting here waiting
And waiting for snow

Waiting for snow
The first of the year
I just can’t believe
That it almost is here
Like cousins and Christmas
And places to go
Nothing takes longer
Than waiting for snow

Waiting for sledding
Waiting for fun
Piled high around me
Bright mountains of sun
Waiting for snowballs
For shouting and laughter
For sliding down hillsides
With hot chocolate after

Waiting for snow
The first of the year
I just can’t believe
That it almost is here
Like cousins and Christmas
And places to go
Nothing takes longer
Than waiting for snow

The longer I’m waiting
The longer it takes
`Til I stick out my tongue
To catch the first flakes
Wash your face in the snow
You’ll be pretty all year
Look out the window
It’s finally here

Waiting for snow
Waiting for you
To bundle me up
Like you always do
Your glove in my mitten
Together we’ll go
To make footprints and angels
In our brand new snow

Waiting for snow
The first of the year
I just can’t believe
That it almost is here
Like cousins and Christmas
And places to go
Nothing takes longer
Than waiting for snow

The nights are so long
They shorten the day
Over the mountains
The sky’s turning gray
The geese all fly southward
As homeward they go
I’m sitting here waiting
And waiting
And waiting
And waiting

Backroads officially online

Pin It Well, it’s been a long time in the making. Many sleepless nights and hours of hard work have been spent. I am proud to announce that the time is here, and Backroads Photography is finally online.

It’s strange that something which started off as a hobby years ago, has now become something bigger and better than what it was initially. I feel that I really need to thank my friends who encouraged me, family members who believed in me, and a Mom and grandfather who both shared a love of photography.

Thanks, Mom.

Thanks, Grandpa.

As I was making ready to put the site online I was thinking…what better way is there to kick off a new site than to have a contest?

You can learn about the contest on the site HOMEPAGE or start off your visit from the INDEX page which will then take you to the homepage right after clicking the first image. And yes, that is a photo of me ‘pretending’ to be a photographer.

Please let me know what you think of the site.

Saturday is a special day...

Pin It Today is a red-letter day in the annals of time.

Why is that?

Because today is the day my photography website is 99% completed.

What? Are you serious?

Yep, just like a chemistry final.

Can I look at it now?

No, I just updated the main page with a message announcing that Saturday is the day.


Why not put it up tonight or tomorrow? Why wait until Saturday?

Well, tomorrow is Halloween…I don’t want anything to take from one of my absolute favorite holidays, besides there are a few more ‘tweaks’ I need to do before I want to show it to the world. When you think about it, you’ve waited this long right? What are a few more days?

Good point. So, what are you changing?

Well, I gave my sister a ‘sneak peek’ at the site for any recommendations she had. She did offer up a few suggestions of things I could do so as to make the site a bit better…friendlier.

So, are you going to do anything to kick off the new site?

Oh, there’ll be something…it will be cool.

What do you have planned?

Check back on Saturday and you’ll find out. I also hope everybody will let me know what they think of the site. A lot of time, money, and hard work have gone into bringing my photography to the masses. It’s exciting really. To be honest, I want to publish it right now, but then it will be a bummer because it’s more or less the dress rehearsal, not the actual performance.

You mean, some of the buttons might not work properly?

That’s EXACTLY what I’m saying. Some of the ‘lines’ of code might not be just right. Heck, even when I publish the thing there will undoubtedly still be a few errors here and there…I’m counting on my friends to point these out so I can fix them…that way, I won’t look like an idiot to the world at large.

So, Saturday?

Saturday it is. What a red-letter day.

Up to my eyeballs

Pin It Well, the Sundance Harvest Market is just two days away.

Yes, I still have a lot to do; however, it’s starting to come along.

If you live in the area, and would like to come, I’d love it if you’d stop by and see my work “live.” It looks so much different when presented matted and framed. I, like a proud father, have been looking out at all of my creations - I love them all (though some more than others).

I guess you could say that I am biased.

The festival runs 10:00 - 4:00 both Saturday and Sunday. I know…it’s Conference weekend. I guess you could say that I am a heathen.

If you make it, I’d love to see you. If not, there’s always next year.

By the way, the website is coming along and will probably be online next week (prep for the festival is eating up my time…plus being a full-time teacher takes its fair share). I know I promised this week, I hope you’ll all forgive me.

Until I am able to return I remain respectfully yours,

Teachinfourth

A letter from Hal

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Last year I met this really nice guy up at Sundance. His name was Hal. He was selling his photography up at the Harvest Market, and as I talked with him, he really gave me a lot of encouragement to do it too.

I sent him an email the other day, asking what to expect (as well as odds and ends which I won’t include here). However, this is his reply to me about what to do/what to expect.

I laughed.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did…

Teachinfourth,

Ahh…but of course I remember you! We spent time talking, and I encouraged you to “just do it!” And now you are! Congratulations! We will be there also. I will answer your questions in the body of the text.

Bring $100 in cash. A couple of 20s, about 15 or 20 ones, and the rest in 5s and 10s. If you don’t you will be running around trying to find someone with change.

Bring a ticket book. Someone will want a receipt.

Bring a jacket…supposed to be cool…or worse.

Bring enthusiasm.

With regard to using credit cards, forget it. It takes weeks to set up a vendor account. You decide whether or not to take checks. I do. In the beginning, I sweat bullets over it, but not anymore.

With regard to setting prices, remember you have to recoup every penny you spent to bring your offering to the market. You only get it back one way...with sales. Remember in art you are dealing with the “magic” factor...the universal appeal some of your photos will have. I still haven’t found the top of the market. You have to get back your costs, but there is no top. Don’t sell yourself short, though. It is a thing you just have to learn, like everything else. If it sells well, I raise it. If it doesn't sell over a period of time, I put a new one in the frame. Some never sell. They teach me.

I put matted photos in a transparent plastic sleeve. Don’t buy the kind that have the adhesive on the flap. You can figure out why.

You asked what to expect. Expect to have fun. Expect to have 1,000 people to come in and go out of your tent, unhindered by any purchase. Expect someone to say “I like your work.” I still have trouble with that one. In my own mind, what I do is “stuff.” I don’t personally elevate it to the level of “work.” When people say that, I am embarrassed. Expect other photographers (you can tell them by the camera around their neck, with their finger on the trigger, who expect to take your work home free with them) who don’t have the courage you do, to come in and offer you a free evaluation of your “work.” One lady came in a few weeks ago, and said she just came in to see if my “work” was as good as hers.

Gag.

Or someone will comment how they like your piece, but how it would look better if it was just a little this way or that. I thank them for their thoughtfulness, and ask where they are selling their stuff.

Expect the unexpected, not the least of which is the weather...

Expect to meet some really nice people, from any number of strange places, and expect to share your knowledge and encouragement with others who inquire, because you look like an expert now.

Get my drift? Congratulations for joining the rather limited group called, “doers.”

Good luck,

Hal


P.S. If you sell way too much, send the overage my direction.....


Well, I think you get an idea of how much fun this might actually be…I’m now so looking forward to it.

Scared? Absolutely.
Nervous? Right on.
Terrified? Check.
Excited? More every day.
A Doer? I am now.

Thanks, Hal.

You only have one first day...

Pin It One of the best parts about school today was a comment I got from a fellow blogger who said, “Those fifth graders only have one first day of fifth grade. You only have one first day of your 8th year of teaching....how cool is that?”

It got me to thinking.

I thought about it all the way to school.

When the kids came in and the day began, I said something like this; “I want to know if any of you are like me. I don’t want you to raise your hand. I don’t want you to shout out if it is the same. I just want you to think about this, and decide if we’re a little bit the same…

"Yesterday, my sister and I had dinner and I thought about school.
We watched a few episodes of “Smallville” and I thought about school.
I went to bed, thinking about school.
I stared at the ceiling for a long time thinking about school.
I think I had a nightmare about school.
When I woke up and took a shower, I was thinking about school.
I went down for breakfast and thought about school.
I brushed my teeth and made my lunch thinking about school.
As I got into my car I sat there with the engine running. I thought to myself, once you pull out of your parking space, summer will officially be over and you’ll be back at school.
I took a deep breath, I smiled, and drove to school.”

Several of the kids nodded.

“I also felt just a little bit scared and excited at the same time. Scared because today is not only your first day of fifth grade…it’s my first day of fifth grade too. I’ve taught 3rd, 4th, and 6th grades, but I’ve never taught 5th before…we’re all in 5th grade for the first time together.

“I also think that some of you are a bit scared because you are at a brand-new school with new kids you still haven’t made friends with yet.

“Some of you are scared because you don’t know where the drinking fountains or bathrooms are…or if you got lost, could your find your way back to room 18? There’s something which scares us all with not knowing where we could find a bathroom if we really needed it, after all, what if you were about to explode? I just want you to know that I know what you’re feeling because I had those same feelings too…but you know what? I know where the bathroom is now, and that makes me feel a lot safer here. We’re going to take a little tour of the school to find out where these things are, so you’ll feel better too…those of you who have been at this school for years, I’m asking you to be patient as we show the new students to the school these places—after all—you’d want to know where they were in a new place as well.”

I could go on for pages about the first day, but I won’t. There’s no need to bore you with the various and sundry details which make up an entire school day.

Suffice it to say, a comment by one of the kids summed up the day, “Whoa! It’s already lunchtime? This day has flown by!”

Time flies when you’re having fun.

Vacation - Monday: Rain and goodbyes

Pin It As I sat on the porch swing, it started to rain. Not merely a sprinkle or drizzle...it was hard. The rain was coming down in sheets, and there were occasional flashes of lighting which ignited the darkened skies, like flashbulbs of a vintage camera. I sat there, enjoying it all when suddenly, the entire Monk family rushed outside to take pleasure in the downpour along with me.

As we were sitting there watching, the smell of moisture washed over us all like the aroma of freshly-baked cookies on a cold, wintery day. Splays of water would blow over the deck, showering us all with a fine, refreshing mist.

I noticed my friend’s grandson (I’ll call him Raymond); he was looking out longingly at the rain for quite some time. Suddenly, he stood and announced, “I’m going to go put on my swimsuit and play.”

Within minutes, Raymond was outside in the peltering storm, and enjoying all of the glories it afforded. As this little boy ran back and forth through the large puddles in the driveway (or small lakes) I noticed adults on the street who quickly made their way back to their homes, trying to avoid getting wet during their afternoon walks. They cowered under umbrellas, or ran quickly down the street taking shelter under trees; none of them strolled along, enjoying this magnificent gift from heaven.

As I watched Raymond frolic about as he scampered I took out my camera and began to shoot. There is nothing more innocent and inspiring to me as watching the simple pleasures of life around us…these free little moments in time we are given each day. The wealthiest king and the lowliest of peasants can enjoy these glorious moments in time. To us all they cost the same…nothing.

We, as adults, need to relearn some of the simple joys in life…things like playing in the rain; blowing dandelion seeds to the winds; walking barefoot on thick carpets of gnarled grass.

We once knew all of these simple joys in life, why is it that we have allowed ourselves to forget them? Why do we ground ourselves for so long?

To help myself re-remember these more simple of joys, I have decided to start a fast of sorts from technology. I have decided that, at least for a few days, I will not use the computer, Internet, or cell phone.

I have somebody I need to find.

I know what you’re thinking… “Hey, what about your camera?” No, the camera is good, after all, there is somebody I’m looking for...

See you in a few days.

Room 26

Pin It I packed up my room.

No, not my bedroom…my classroom.

As the items which made this room their home for the past several years found their way into boxes and were stacked up in the back, I could see nearly a decade of my life being put away with it. I found myself confronted by similar feelings to which I imagine Kathleen Kelly, the character in You’ve Got Mail, must have felt when her bookstore was closing down.

“Soon [I’ll] just be a memory. In fact someone, some foolish person, will probably think it’s a tribute to this [school], the way it keeps changing on you, the way you can never count on it, or something. I know, because that's the sort of thing I’m always saying. But the truth is; I’m heartbroken. I feel as if part of me has died, and no one can ever make it right.”

I know that this decision was mine and mine alone, however, how can one merely leave a place they’ve loved, had so many experiences in, and that has fundamentally changed their life?

You can’t.

I remember a friend of mine once saying, “You never truly leave a place you love. Part of it you take with you, leaving a part of yourself behind.”

It is at times like this that I question that statement. In time I will become nothing more than a faded memory…much like the faces of the past, those who’ve been a part of the school, but have faded into oblivion. Who knows these people now? Does anybody really care?

Such are the facedly-jaded moments of time which inevitably come to an end.

WE remember, but life does go on.

Today was hard and yet easy at the same time. We had graduation, photos were taken with students, and I found myself trying to prolong the inevitable…the closing down of the bookstore. As long as I was conversing with parents, having a photo taken with a student, or one of about a million other things, I was prolonging my time at the school which I’ve worked at for eight years.

However, like it inescapably does, the time came and then it passed. My life has been fundamentally changed and there is no going back. The items were moved, lights were turned off, farewells were spoken, and finally…the name plaque came down.

Room 26.

As I made ready to leave the room I found myself facing some writing left on the chalkboard by my students. It was with this that I felt a new emotion. I was not going to miss a room, but the people who made that room what it was. Like my longtime friend, Val Dixon, it is not her home which I love, but the family which make those four walls come to life.

A room is but a room.

I know that new adventures are waiting in the wings for their cue to take the center stage, but there is also a portion of my soul which dreads the change which the future is so eager to present to me.

“…my store is closing this week. I own a store. Did I ever tell you that? Probably not. It’s a lovely store—and in a week, it will be something really depressing, like a Baby Gap. I am being amazingly brave — ”

Downpour

Pin It What do you do when the music grabs you and just won’t let go? Do you fight it? Or do you let it sweep you away?

As of late the torrents in my head play like music of an unchained orchestra. They surround me, they fill me to capacity, and they consume me.

I choose to ride the winds...

Speechless...

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What more can I say?

Kind of leaves you speechless, doesn’t it?

IF that can’t, then I have a feeling that this will...