The Call: Cherry Red — Cheryl

I was very happy to discover that Dennis and the kids had saved one cherry for me to photograph.

The Response: Feeling Overwhelmed — Cheryl

Deciding to stop scrapbooking photos in chronological order was very liberating for me, but now I have to deal with the confusion of many pages in progress.

The Call: Dream Fish — Jessica

The weather was beautiful today — cool, clear and breezy — so we went for a walk in the botanical garden down the road. I used the camera’s multiple exposure feature to grab a few shots of the koi and the clouds merged together. I was hoping it would create a dream-like effect of fish flying in the sky and cause a moment of confusion for the viewer while they tried to sort it out. What do you think?

The Response: Road to Flight — Jessica

At the entrance to the Udvar-Hazy Air and Space Museum in Chantilly, VA.

The Call: On the Other Side — Cheryl

I noticed the house across the road from the golf course when I dropped Luke off for a tournament this morning. Oh, and he won. : )

The Response: Loons — Cheryl

When Bridget, Stella, and I drove by the lake this evening, the town beach was still busy, and boats were skimming over the water farther north. Here, though, it was quiet.

The Call: Danny & the Glow Worm — Jessica

A different kind of quiet…

The Response: Daybreak on the Couch — Jessica

“We do well to sing to your name, Most High, and proclaim your mercy at daybreak.” (First antiphon for today’s morning prayer, Liturgy of the Hours)

My days hit the ground running. I try to get up before everyone so that I can have a few moments of quiet for prayer but it rarely works out. At least one or two of the younger kids will come downstairs by the time I sit down with my coffee.

The Call: Mid-day Dinosaur — Cheryl

Nearly every photographic discussion on light that I’ve been privy to has included an admonishment about shooting in harsh mid-day sunlight. I understand the reasoning behind this, but the artist needs to listen to the rules that apply to a specific work, not generalizations about good and bad art. I’ll never forget the discussion of Herman Melville’s Moby Dick in my Major American Writers course at St. Anselm College. Another student rejected the book, because the narrator, Ishmael, told us things he couldn’t possibly know. I argued vehemently that it didn’t matter. Moby Dick would not have been the masterpiece it is with an impersonal, omniscient narrator, and the information Ishmael was not supposed to know was crucial to the story. No, Ishmael’s “clairvoyance” — if you will — doesn’t fit with the rules of literature, but it works perfectly in the world of Moby Dick created by Melville, a remarkable writer.

The Response: Old, Little Red Wagon — Cheryl

This is the wagon my brother, sister and I used to ride down the sidewalk on our street. My brother sat in front and steered with the handle (which has gone missing); I sat in the middle (the safest position: I’m the youngest), and my sister sat in back and used her feet for brakes. We had so many good rides and so much fun. With all its rust and missing pieces, the wagon is too damaged for riding in, but it looks lovely with flowers spilling over the side (I still have to buy another petunia for the back end), and today, I was quite pleased with the reflections that showed up in the rain water.

The Call: Broken Dancer — Jessica

I got this little figurine when my father was stationed in Munich. I was very young, five or six, and she has traveled all over with me.

Unfortunately, she fell a couple of years ago and I put her away in a drawer, protected in bubble wrap. I need to find some superglue and see if I can put her back together.

The Response: Music Everywhere — Jessica

There are two things that are all over my house: toys and musical instruments. They spill out of all rooms!

The Call: Silver Charm Bracelet — Cheryl

I joined band in fifth grade. I played the flute (I certainly didn’t make music with it). I wanted to play drums, but my dad said no. By the time I got to eighth grade, I finally got up the gumption to say, “No. Just because my best friend is in band (and chorus, and lives for the theater, and, and, and), doesn’t mean that I have to be.” It was a wonderful taste of liberty, and I sometimes wonder why it took me so long to turn my back on so many other expectations from so many other people and finally say, “It’s my life; I’ll live it. Thank you very much.”

The Response: Yellow Roses — Cheryl

My roses are starting to bloom!