Saturday, August 20, 2011

Newborn photography. Precious baby Ella.

This is my sister's baby. I knew when I held her I'd feel the same sisterly bond I do with Lora. I loved her and I knew her before she was born. It's been pretty surreal - my little sister having a baby. I've asked her lots of questions. I'm learning from her. 

This little girl is so pure. This is the first life I've seen in it's brand new existence. Looking at her fingers, her long arms and her long legs, her protective skin and her little lips adapting to the more developed human's form of eating. Translation = adapting to sucking on a breast rather than having an umbilical IV. 

She's about a week old, here. At some point early on during my visit I couldn't help but think about the abused babies of the world; I couldn't imagine how anyone could harm something so miraculous.

I then wondered why I would think of such a horrible thing. The dark side of me rarely makes appearances so all I can conclude is that, through a blessed bond with my sister, I have felt the only thing I can closely perceive to be a miracle. 
This is blood.





Thursday, August 4, 2011

Bathrooms. I like 'em; it's part of the whole adventure!

Capri
Rome


I've told you before that I love bathrooms. They fascinate me. Beautiful ones with dressing rooms, quirky bathrooms in hotels, dingy bathrooms in dive bars or on the road - they all have character and help provide that little something that contributes to your experience outside of your home. It helps define a place and perhaps - a person.

Where are your favorite bathrooms? One of mine is at Dry Creek Saloon at Mt. Bonnell. The whole place is rickety and of course, perfect for a slasher film where teenagers are hanging out having a good time at night. There's a pool table on the street level. Old windows around the pool table open up to soft air and tree branches, through which you can see a sloped hill that would eventually get you down to Lake Travis. Above the main floor of the bar is the rooftop "patio" with mismatched furniture like old plastic bucket seats for school desks. Back down the wooden stairwell outside and down a few more cement steps that lead from the main floor of the bar and you'll find the bathrooms. I always make whoever I'm with check 'em out as I comment "How awesome is this?!" Not everyone gets why I'm fascinated with the bathrooms, which are more like outhouses. Sometimes I just like old, uncared for stuff. If I go somewhere and wouldn't necessarily want to go back often, still, I can always find something to love just about anywhere I go. And I happen to like the non-chalant vibe of this place. These bathrooms certainly represent the unadorned decor and I don't give a hoot attitude of the owner. Leave it to Mike, though, to get him talking a little bit and maybe even a slight grum"hmph" and a nod for a pseudo-laugh.