keep calm and wash your hands...

we all have something that haunts us, and frankly, scares the hell out of us. i have two: breast cancer and ebola.

i first heard of ebola in 1995 and spent several nights in the college library reading every periodical and scientific journal i could get my hands on that so much as mentioned it. i wanted to learn as much as i could about this far away killer that has no antidote and is a death sentence for a majority of those who contract it.

it is a horrible way to die and i can only imagine how alone a soul suffering their final days must feel. it just hurts my heart so much to think about and it utterly terrifies me.

since those nights in the library, i have been keenly aware of every outbreak and kept a close ear for mutations in the virus. those first stories i heard on NPR in 1995 made such an impression, the last movie about a highly contagious disease i watched was "Outbreak". it took me two attempts to get through it and it made me physically ill.

before you tell me not get freaked out, i'm aware how difficult it is to actually contract ebola and i'm pretty fluent in pathogens and have an above average understanding of biology. however, the one thought i have always had, the one that woke me from nightmares, was that there was not a case here on US soil and the odds of that happening were incredibly high. i hoped that an antidote would be found and the pharma companies would invest in it before that ever happened.

well, here we are. of course, it happened in texas. oddly enough, i'm sort of glad it has finally happened. it's oddly a relief. terrifying as hell, but maybe the big money of the drug companies will now go into a cure. it should have been there a long, long time ago. now that the monster is in the light, maybe now, we can solve the mystery and inoculate the world. i can hope anyway.

in the meantime, keep calm and wash your hands.

when you blow a second chance...

i've had some interesting experiences as a juror. i was on a murder case, bailed and called "uncle" on a capital murder case and was sent home when a pedophile pled before the state could rest it's case.

then, i moved to the county. i lived there for five years and never received a summons. never. i worked the elections, i always voted, i was visible as hell. they didn't need me. 

one year and six months ago, i moved back to the city. i worked the elections, i voted, i was visible. they needed me. 

i showed up and was called in for voir dire on a case this last monday. it is always slightly disconcerting to sit in a room with someone you are supposed to think is innocent when you know that something happened to get them into that room and it wasn't good. you don't know what that was and here you are answering all these highly personal questions. this is the system. we are the peers of this defendant and soon much about this person sitting in the chair waiting to defend him or herself will be revealed. whether we like it or not, we are all on equal ground at that moment. 

the two times that i have deliberated a case have been as emotionally draining an event as my divorce or any other traumatic occurrence in my life. every day i'm on jury duty when i wake up,  i plan all the things i'm going to do when i get out of the courthouse. what i inevitably do is grab a beer, collapse in a chair and talk to my cat because i can't talk to anyone else. 

the case i worked this week was supposed to be wrapped up in a day. the defendant was already a convicted felon and the charge we were presented with was bad for him. very bad. we had no idea what he had done to become a felon, but not a single one of us wanted to take away that young man's second chance.

we went into the jury room and we hashed it out. we roll played. we got out the flip chart and wrote all of the names of all the players so there was no confusion. we requested evidence, passed it around and laid it all out in front of us. we argued. we agreed to disagree and we went home to sleep on it. 

we returned in the morning and picked up right where we left off. not one single possibility was left unaddressed. we faced every single doubt and every single fact. in the end, there was no doubt. we found him guilty. 

we asked for clemency. 

we filed into the courtroom and gave our verdict. his shoulders collapsed and his expression melted into one of defeat and anguish. his lawyer polled the jury. he was cuffed and led out of the courtroom. i broke down into tears in the jury box.

afterward, the judge was very kind. he answered our questions and concerns. he told us the range of sentencing that was possible and promised to consider our recommendation. we took a collective breath and exited the courtroom. we have something that we share that we will never forget, but we broke apart anxious to return to our familiar worlds and the comforts in them. 

i went home and looked up the defendant's felony charge. it was as bad as we had feared and he had served the amount of time i had speculated. it was that bad.

every day i do things that i enjoy. i get coffee at starbuck's whenever i want. i get in my car and drive spontaneously to new places. i bitch and moan about crap in my life that i can change. i take my freedom for granted.

i also have to live with the consequences of all of my actions, just like everyone else. in the end, it all comes down to choices. 

i've made bad choices. he made bad choices. i truly hope that he doesn't make another. 

everyone deserves forgiveness and i can't help but hope he finds peace and happiness--eventually.  

two jobs

two jobs.

for one, i wake up extra early, make some coffee and get started on my inspiration for the event. i sing "the love boat" theme while i'm in the shower and dance around humming "love is in the air" while getting ready. there is a moment to play with the kitty. an opportunity to sing with the birdie. and viola! i'm ready early--early enough to get in some more inspiration and write this blog post before i kiss my guy and practically skip out the door.

for the second job, i bury my head under the covers when my alarm goes off and cry out loud, "no, i don't wanna go." i hide till the very last acceptable second before slinking out of bed. i get ready in the dark, forget things and run late every day.

hmmmm. i wonder which job is which?

confession of a photographer...

when you ask me to photograph your event or create your portrait, there is something that happens behind the scenes that you probably don't realize.

a person can say anything, but their body language and facial expressions can rarely hold up a poker face for a whole portrait session or 12 hour wedding day. sooner or later, your photographer is going to get you to crack and catch that personality, that light that is your individuality. those are the photos that you're going to giggle over and love. that's our job--to capture the "real" you and reflect it back.

you probably get that and are right now saying, "exactly! that's why i hired you!" well, not only do we work during our sessions to get you to show us that spark, but your photographer spends hours editing and discovering your many expressions... we learn every line, every freckle, every movement... of YOU. we spend a little time with you and then we bring you into our offices, our living rooms, our special work spots and we extract the best photos... we find your wedding day joy, your unabashed parade enthusiasm, your job or hobby passions, your love and pride in your family.

i've always said that editing is a very personal activity. i've tried to explain to people just how well i feel i know a bride after one full day and night with her, even though i would barely recognize her in street clothes. photos are personal--more personal than i ever anticipated. not only do i see the good ones, i also see those goofy faces that you want me to delete. that's not a bad thing--that is my job and you rely on my tact, as well as my taste. but frankly, i get to know you better than either of us expected.

today, i learned that someone i met only twice, and photographed both times, passed away unexpectedly.

i had no idea it would feel like this. i have to keep reminding myself that i didn't really know him. but it FEELS like i did. i have more than 4 hours of shots of him when he knew i was photographing him...  and when he forgot i was photographing him. i spent hours looking at his face to find the pictures that reflected what i believe you can only recognize by intuition and experience as the highlights of someone's personality. i still have a few photos of him that i haven't edited.

and now, he's gone.

i didn't expect this deep sorrow. it has caught me completely off guard. most immediately his passing has reminded me to live in the now, without regrets, and to stop postponing things that are important to me.

but, it also has reminded me that photography is my gift to you and yours, and i offer it with tremendous respect.

when things sneak up...

i was looking for a pic when i stumbled upon this.

this was the last photo that i took of maxfield parrish before i had no choice but to release him from our world. it's a sad and profound photo for me, and it caught me off guard.

he was a graceful and loyal companion who never left my side even when i thought everyone and everything else had abandoned me. he watched me cocoon and emerge as someone entirely different, and yet, very much the same.

i remember holding him that last day and hoping that i had done everything i could and that i'd never let him down.

he was more than just a cat that meowed constantly, loved mozzarella cheese, and tolerated that santa hat for the christmas picture.

it's been three years and he is still more than just a cat.

the hourglass

i ponder the people

 in the afternoon frenzy,

they dash down the sidewalk-

 bumping into each other,

too much in a hurry

 to murmur polite pardons. 

sensing the grains of the hourglass,

 they quicken their pace,

while the rush of their blood

 hastens as deadlines grow closer.

but what will they feel

 when the realization strikes

that these grains, 

that are finite and precious,

     are few?

what of the deadlines,

 so faithfully kept,

 when there will be

  no more giddy children to delight in,

  no more passionate embraces,

  no more spring picnics to share with a friend,

  no more sunday afternoons graced by

   wind chimes and hummingbirds?

what of these deadlines then?

the sand flows

 unheeded by regrets ...

what more is a lifetime

 than a minute too short?

         .... kymberlie birkenkamp

ticklish lies...

whether or not we heed our intuition, we know when we are being fooled. 

it is late, but upon request... here is one more from the archives. 

endearment...

pillow talk slides off satin sheets

 but the heavy words you whispered

 are treasured amulets of love

 lain around my neck

 with delicate kisses, that 

 hover near my heart 

 still.