The Call: Young Together — Cheryl

Johanna and Luke.

The Response: Time at the Lake — Cheryl

In Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art, Madeleine L’Engle tells the story of a village with clocks that got all messed up, time-wise, after the village clockmaker/repairer passed away. When — years later — a renowned clockmaker/repairer came to the village, the citizens crowded round and begged him to fix their clocks and watches, but many were disappointed. The clockmaker declared that he would repair only the timepieces kept wound by their owners, “because they were the only ones that would remember how to keep time.” L’Engle continues, “So we must daily keep things wound: that is, we must pray when prayer seems dry as dust; we must write when we are physically tired, when our hearts are heavy, when our bodies are in pain.” I would add that we must keep pushing that shutter button, even when we feel like it’s all been done before.

The Call: VFW Eagle — Jessica

It’s that time of year again. Flags are being draped on all the overpasses. Just like that week, thirteen years ago.

The Response: Sunlit Flowers — Jessica

I was late for a meeting, but when I drove past this field of flowers backlit by the morning sun, well, I had to respond. After a moments hesitation, I made a u- turn at the next intersection and pulled out my phone and started snapping away,

Thanks to no traffic and a heavy foot I made it in time for the meeting after all!

The Call: Remember to Water — Cheryl

When my flowers are so dry they droop, I realize that it’s time to respond with water. The problem is that the thought flitting through my mind doesn’t always lead to giving the flora a drink.

The Response: Typewriter Still Life — Cheryl

“The more I studied literature and the arts, the more I realized that the world is far more ambiguous than we think.” — Gregory Wolfe, Beauty Will Save the World

Bridget and I had a good talk along these lines on the way home from her orthodontist appointment today. It’s easy to judge and compare and justify and condemn. The much more difficult path leads us to mercy, empathy, and the realization that the circumstances, the reactions, the choices, and even the way we perceive everything around us are ours alone.

No matter how impressed I am with the gorgeous still life images Jessica creates (and I am EXTREMELY impressed), they’ll always be her images. I can learn from her, be inspired by her (and I certainly am), but the images I create exist because I created them. It’s the same for Jessica: the beauty she adds to the world through her photographs has everything to do with who she is. When you stop and think about it, it’s pretty wonderful.

The Call: Shapes & Shadows — Jessica

Ours. This is another one of those calls that I sort of scratch my head over. What was I thinking?

I once read that spiritual poverty means that all we own, the only thing that is truly ours, is our yes or no to God. So “blessed are the poor in spirit” because they know that all they have is a choice. Everything else is gift and grace.

I was watching a wonderful video this morning about an art teacher. One of the exercises that she gave to her students was to take five lines and lay them out in different patterns on the table. I was inspired when I let the dogs out and saw all the twigs and weeds and leaves lying on the patio from our recent storms. Suddenly, they all looked like lines to me. I picked out five and brought them upstairs.

I have also been doing a mentorship program on G+ with Sam Breach. We are on week 7 (of 8) and the lesson this week focuses on “odd one out” — isolating our subject by placing it among different items so that it stands out. After finding and arranging photos for color and size difference, we were to make one with a quality that we came up with.

After I added the light to this set-up, it occurred to me that the shadow was the subject and it was different in substance from the other items. This brilliant insight (okay, not really brilliant but you know what I mean!) only came to me because I allowed myself to play. I choose to spend my time playing this morning rather doing other work that was equally (if not more) important.

This is going long but my main point is “the choice is ours.”

The Response: Empty Nest — or a Bird-made Basket — Jessica

I heard a quote the other day that went something like this: after raising so many kids, it’s not an “empty nest,” it’s the Promised Land.

The Call: Empty — Cheryl

Finding an empty laundry basket around here can be tough. This one is awaiting a load in the dryer. Notice that pink thing? It’s duct tape. All of my laundry baskets have been repaired with at least one strip of it. Oh, and the white stuff on the floor? Laundry detergent. I spilled it earlier today. I thought about getting the broom and sweeping it up. I know I did.

The Response: Fun, Anyway — Cheryl

I often feel like a total failure as cruise-director mom. Planning outings and get-togethers is not really my strong suit. Thankfully, my kids don’t seem to mind much. They’re rather easygoing and content to have fun no matter where they are, formal plans or no.

The Call: Flames — Jessica

Total abandonment to play and experimentation is a necessary part of creativity. And sometimes when you’re waiting for the grill to settle down so you can cook the shrimp, you just have to play with multiple exposures.

The Response: Significant Shadow — Jessica

One thing that I have come to realize, and I think it has made a huge difference in my photography, is the significance of shadows. I’ve always been drawn to them — to high contrast and dark, inky blacks. Lately though, I’ve seen how they shape the photo and add not only mood, but dimension and depth.

The Call: A Milestone — Cheryl

It seems to me that an eighteenth birthday has a bit more significance than — say — an 11th, especially when the one celebrating is your firstborn.

The Response: Bridget on the Board — Cheryl

We seldom go to the beach, but when we do, we have a great time.