The Call: Photography Crash Course — Jessica

My husband has suddenly been bitten by the shutterbug. After looking through a bunch of websites over the week, he finally asked me last night if I had any books that I could recommend for a beginner trying to understand the essence of photography. Ha! Do I have a few books? I guess he doesn’t look over our Amazon purchase history too often.

Response: Pumpkins — Cheryl

When I looked out the window this morning, the light outside told me that it’s autumn, even though the calendar tells me I have to wait a day. I strolled out with my camera, but was unable to capture the feeling. Later in the day, Bridget, Stella and I visited our local greenhouse, because I knew I would find the essence of autumn there: asters, mums, millet, scarecrows, and pumpkins.

The Call: Precious Metal — Cheryl

Mom had a yellow gold charm bracelet. I loved to open the drawer of her dresser and take the lid off of each square, white or cream-colored box to reveal necklaces, bracelets, earrings and pins. Most had been gifts from my father. I knew exactly which box contained the charm bracelet. I’d pull it out and study each charm, in turn. My favorite was the calendar. It was like a page from the wall, with “November” and “1964” carved across the top, and a diamond placed in the square for “7”: Mom and Dad’s wedding day.

When we were in high school, my sister and I asked our parents for charm bracelets (and maybe a few charms to get us started). Maureen wanted gold; I asked for sterling silver. It wasn’t that I liked the metal better. It was less expensive, and there were infinitely more sterling silver charms than gold in the Service Merchandise catalog. Mom and Dad bought me the exact bracelet I had picked from the wish book: the one with the little hearts. My sister got a gold one Mom had been keeping for her for years.

The Response — Jessica

I think every bit of silver in my home came from my wedding. Frames, trays, serving spoons and salt and pepper shakers. I can pull it all out in a few years when we celebrate our silver anniversary.

The Call: Leading Lines — Jessica

Thus, to see what shapes make up the everyday objects in our world, we must reach back into our child psyche. A dining room table becomes just a rectangle, a beach ball or an umbrella are now spheres and circles, power lines on the road are just converging lines, a window frame is a group of squares, and the front doors of our neighbors’ houses are rectangles. Look at your surrounding right now. Wherever you are, start seeing objects around you as geometric shapes.

— Picture Perfect Practice by Roberto Valenzuela

Response: Stop Math Phobia — Cheryl

The oldest records of the study of geometry are Babylonian clay tablets and Egyptian bark manuscripts that are nearly 5000 years old. Both the Babylonians and the Egyptians studied geometry because it helped them to survey land, measure distances, and construct buildings and monuments.

     — Key to Geometry, Student Book 1

The Call: Folded and Fierce — Cheryl

The flat plane pleases my eye.
The colors, the patterns —
They inspire me to cut,
Layer, tear, paste and paint.
Not my dear Henry, though:
All he wants to do is fold.

The Response: Rain Down — Jessica

I was feeling a bit like Stanley today. It was probably just the weather. Rainy, grey days make my eyes hurt.

The Call: India — Jessica

Our black lab is a familiar site on the couch in the study. Even though we shoo her off and tell her no, she always seems to jump right back up. And since she always looks so sweet and comfy-cozy, I just don’t have the heart to make her get off. I’m a push-over when it comes to the dogs.

Response: Mom’s Diamonds — Cheryl

When Mom died, I got her engagement ring and the one Dad gave her for some anniversary. She wore the two of them together next to her wedding band (which she never once took off), and seeing them there on her finger was a familiar, comforting site. They signified for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, ’til death do us part. They were reassuring, and not just to Dad.

I wear them on my right hand. They have become such a familiar site that I often don’t notice them. But every so often, I do. That’s when I think of Mom and wish she was still here. That’s when I wish the rings weren’t on my finger at all.

The Call: Magic Bracelet — Cheryl

A year or two ago, I embarked on learning peyote stitch by creating a bracelet with black and blue-green seed beads. I was happy with the stitch and the results, but I wasn’t sure how I’d finish the base I had created, and I put it aside. Until recently, I had essentially forgotten about its existence.

I was happy to rediscover the unfinished piece a couple of weeks ago when I dug out my beading supplies to create a Rosary. My sons, (surprisingly!) were even happier to rediscover it. Sam noticed the cuff in a silver bowl on my desk, picked it up and was immediately enthralled. Everyday, he comes into my studio, drapes the bracelet over his wrist, curls it around his fingers, folds it, smushes it, and caresses it. But that’s not the funniest part. The most amusing thing is the fact that all three of his brothers do exactly the same thing, but his two sisters barely even notice the handmade bling.

The Response: Turn, Turn, Turn — Jessica

All things have their season, and in their times all things pass under heaven.
Ecclesiastes 3:1

The Call: Oops! Wrong Field — Jessica

I love to keep my eye open for strange juxtapositions and coincidences. I may not always have my camera handy, or even be in a place where I could take a picture, but I feel that by doing this I am, in some way, training my eye to see a certain way.

Do you notice strange things too?

Response: Strange Love — Cheryl

When I told Dennis that today’s Call is Strange, he said, “Take a picture of me.” It was a good suggestion.

He and I started dating in college. At first, I didn’t like him, but he liked me. Within a couple of hours, though, I had changed my mind. He was not like any of the other guys I knew. It’s safe to say that he was strange, but it’s a lovable strangeness.

The Call: Fibonacci and Swarovski — Cheryl

In her book, Open Your Eyes: 1,000 Simple ways to Bring Beauty into Your Home and Life Each Day, Alexandra Stoddard writes:

Standards for aesthetically pleasing proportions are scientifically logical, achieved by following mathematical rules that date back to the civilization and architecture of ancient Greece. Though the Greek masters of architecture originally resolved proportions visually, they eventually gave architecture total stability through applying precise, unchanging mathematical formulas. When the classical principles of the Greeks are employed, harmony and excellence result.

Those classical principles did not end with the Greeks, however. In 1202, Leonardo of Pisa, known as Fibonacci, introduced to Europe a numerical concept originally found in Indian mathematics. This became know as the Fibonacci Sequence, which is: 0, 1, 1, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, … From that sequence, a series of squares can be drawn that fit into a rectangle. For instance, if the unit of measure is inches, you would draw two 1-inch squares side-by-side, and hold them up with a two-inch square beneath. Next to that you would draw a 3-inch square. A 5-inch square fits directly above the 3-inch and two 1-inch squares, and next to all of that is drawn an 8-inch square. When a spiral is drawn through all of these squares (from one corner to its diagonal opposite) in one continuous line, you get a golden spiral: one of those perfect shapes that embody the principles of harmony and beautiful composition.

The Response: Danny in His Crib — Jessica

To be honest, I thought this would be an easy prompt. And then it just seemed that no matter what I did, the picture didn’t work and the words didn’t come.

Now that I’ve run out of time, the best I can do is a picture of Danny, my youngest, and a quote from Mother Teresa. It is a principle that I try to live by.

Love begins by taking care of the closest ones — the ones at home.

The Call: A Quiet Moment — Jessica

Sigh. A quiet moment, alone, in order to think. Not plan, not organize, not study, just think. Those moments are rare. And the rarer they become, the more I find myself running scattershot through the day.

That’s my list of upcoming words, by the way, so don’t peek!

Response: The Lesson — Cheryl

My husband and I started homeschooling when our oldest was four. That was twelve years ago. Now, we can’t imagine putting kids in school. It’s about so much more than learning facts and figures, doing well on tests, memorizing “important” dates in history. It’s about growing and learning together as a family, and that includes learning how to think, not what to think. William Butler Yeats is credited with the maxim that says it best: “Education is not filling a bucket, but lighting a fire.”

The Call: Dragonfly Sunlight — Cheryl

Today, I shot more than 150 photos, and I could have used about half of them for today’s call. When you take advantage of the natural light, you get some naturally gorgeous photographs.

The Response: Autumn Light — Jessica

Light? What can I say? It’s the whole point of photography.

I love it when it’s strong. I love it when it contrasts with shadows. I love it when it dances through the leaves to the forest floor.

The more I learn about the light the better my photographs become. As I become better at controlling the light, I feel like I am better able to craft the photos that I envision.

For that skill, I thank Michael Freeman. His series of books on exposure and composition have been my all time favorites.

As far as controlling light, I have learned all I know from David Hobby and Joe McNally.

The Call: September Eleventh was a Tuesday — Jessica

Eleven years on, the flags no longer drape the overpasses but the cloudless, brilliant blue sky remains.

Response: My Life Before My Kids — Cheryl

I remember the people who loved me,
The words that shaped me,
The images that changed me.

The Call: Passionate — Cheryl

Luke is my most intense child, followed closely by his brother Sam. As my husband so often reminds me, I run on “Doyle Time,” which is anywhere from 15 to 45 minutes behind real time. This does not often fly with Luke, who would arrive for any commitment 30 minutes early, if possible. Years ago, when Luke was rushing me out the door for a practice of one sort or another, I told him, “You’re a Type-A personality.” After I explained what that meant, he retorted, “Oh yeah? Well, if I’m Type-A, you’re Type-Z.” I can live with that.

The Response: Scribbles — Jessica

You know what’s intense? Parenting a two year old. I was intensely angry when I saw his “art work” on the foyer wall. And then I was intensely thankful for washable markers. When he saw me pull out the camera and snap a few shots, he was intensely happy with himself. Maybe I should have waited to take the picture until he had left the room. Hopefully our little Picasso will choose his medium with more care in the future. I won’t hold my breath, however.

The Call: Abandoned Nest — Jessica

This bird’s nest was once a cozy home for a mother and her brood. It kept the baby birds warm and sheltered when their parents flew off in search of food. It kept the family safe at night from prowlers and other dangers. And when the birds no longer needed it, it was abandoned. If only it were so easy for us to abandon ideas and beliefs that we have outgrown.

Suscipe, Domine, universam meam libertatem.

Response: Fine, They’re Yours — Cheryl

When I saw Jessica’s word, “Abandon,” my mind immediately went to Dante Alighieri’s Inferno and the line: “Abandon hope all ye who enter here.” When the house is especially messy, I toy with the idea of hanging such a sign above my front door, but I’ve gone the messy house route before.

So, I turned my attention and my camera to the very large, very ugly hornworm devouring the tomatoes in my garden. I’ve drowned many of its ilk before, and I’ve almost done the same with this one, but something always stops me. We’re nearing the first frost. We’ve got more tomatoes (most still green) than we’ll eat, and while canning or freezing them appeals to my old-fashioned, romantic side, it isn’t likely to happen. Therefore, (at least for now), I’ve abandoned my murderous plans for this green thing and will let it live. I’m hoping it will thank me by turning into a cocoon where I can watch it, or at the very least, I’d like for it visit me next year as a fascinating hummingbird moth.

The Call: Years in the Making — Cheryl

Years ago, I came across a great idea in Martha Stewart Living: remove the staples from one end of a stretched canvas; slide an unframed, magnetic dry erase board between the canvas and stretchers; re-staple; then paint and hang for a personalized memo board. I already owned most of the materials needed, so I added the magnetic board to canvas, painted the whole shebang a nice light blue, came up with an idea for a design, drew one small element of it, and left it untouched for years. With the completion of my remodeled studio looming (at least, in theory), I decided to get back to work on the memo board, going so far as to draw a new design (just some boxes for frames) and start painting it. It didn’t take me long to realize that my “masterpiece” was not heading in a direction I liked, so I let three-year-old Stella add her own personal touch. Soon enough, I was back at the canvas, with paintbrush in hand, creating a sun, for some reason. I worked on it here and there (doing it backward, of course: filling in the background after painting in the sun and its rays), and today — finally — I am ready to call it finished (even though — Bridget tells me — Leonardo DaVinci once wrote, “Art is never finished, only abandoned.”)

Finished or abandoned: for me, it is an accomplishment.

The Response: Deer in the Field — Jessica

Deer are everywhere around my home. My lack of landscaping is a testament to that fact. But as common as they are I have relatively few pictures of them. For the longest time, I never seemed to have my camera with me when I was close enough to photograph them. It was something that I really, really wanted to do. As I kid, I loved nature shows: Mutual of Omaha’s Wild America, Jacques Cousteau, Marty Stoffer. As an adult, however, I find that I have very little patience for wildlife photography. Maybe it’s just because I cut my photographic teeth on fast-moving toddlers. But I still dream of getting that tack-sharp animal photograph. Until then, I’ll settle for a quick snapshot of the deer with my cell phone. It’s still an accomplishment to me.