1. Hillstream Loach, 2. Mister Husband calls these the Whoville Socks, 3. Apres Blizzard, 4. The Largest Triceratops, 5. Giant Floating Head of Henry Ford, 6. Ron Thompson, 7. Mushroom House, Dassel MN, 8. Muck!, 9. Saturday Night Cruise-In, 10. the best piece of luck I've had, 11. Al's Diner, 12. Como Pavilion
2007 turned out to be the year I busted out with the camera. I learned a lot about photography in the process, and that was good. But, more importantly, I discovered the camera as a way of knowing. It’'s all the usual things — a way of forcing yourself to look, a way of remembering things so you can come back to them — but it’s also been a way of learning things I didn’t know about myself. Strangely enough, the little five-photo Flickr badge on the sidebar was part of that. As I dumped photos into the account (never less than 40 a month, as it turned out) and they began to cycle through the badge, I started to notice that they were the photos of someone who is much happier than I ever notice that I am, or perhaps give myself credit for being. Figuring that out brought about some smallish yet fundamental shifts. I will always love dark humor and value cynicism, but it turns out I rather like operating from the assumption that I am a fundamentally happy person rather than a fundamentally melancholic one. Who knew?
So these aren’t my best photos from last year. Instead, they are representative moments from the months. 2007 was a good year, probably much easier than 2008 forecasts to be. And it let me learn some things that now lead me to think that while this coming year is full of Big Grownup Things, some of which are very difficult, it won’t necessarily have to be an unhappy one.

I made a calendar to give as gifts to family and friends this year, and thought I’d make it available to others as well. If you’d like one, you can find them here. It’s priced at $17.99*, and all proceeds go toward eventually graduating.

It's primarily shots taken in the Twin Cities, although there’s a few from Bemidji, Hastings, and Fargo-Moorhead. There are lakes and dogs and carnival rides and socks and UMN buildings. It’s all your Minnesotaness needs in one convenient package.
I also made a single-page calendar ($6.99) that condenses late-summer midwesterness in a single potent capsule. I picked this image because C. liked it so much, but if you see something else in this set that you'd like to see as a one-pager, let me know.
*Aside to CafePress: does the base price really, really have to be $14.99? I estimate that you’re working a one million percent profit margin.

This is the city hall in Bloomfield, Iowa. The sign outside is quite informative, and proudly reports that the place was once scaled by a human fly in the 1930s. Also that it's a fine example of Second Empire architecture.
It was so much greener just one state south, and the grass pushed the greenness right up against the old glass phone booth that still resides in the city square.

I took this photo months ago in the Arboretum fern room. It’s still grey and snowy here, but temperatures are up in the 30s. Folks back home are sending me photos of daffodils. The weather guy is talking about meteorological spring. Eventually some green will come.

I took the camera with me this morning in an effort to pay attention to things on my walk. I like the blueness of the photographs, since that‛s exactly how the light looks at that time of morning. The photographs themselves seem very Photo 101 to me, but I had fun. If you like, you can see them over here.

More here on Flickr.




We got another big sack of old photographs from Grandpa today, and I immediately zeroed in on this one. I used to spend days with my Grandmother in her office, and this one lived under the glass on her desk for years. When I was three or four, I asked her who these ugly ladies were, and she explained to me that they weren't women, they were men in women's clothing. One of them is my grandfather, and all of them were family men*. This was the first time I had ever heard of drag, and I was mystified and fascinated. (Which explains where that all started.)
Now, I'm mystified and fascinated that drag was ever, under any circumstances, an acceptable practice among straight men in 1960's Little Rock. This would have been just a few years after the Central High Crisis, so it's not like tolerance was at a high point. Apparently, though, drag was an annual practice for this particular civic group for a number of years. Interesting.
*Since he doesn't know that I have a blog, much less am posting this, I won't say which one he is.


As you might imagine, Big Brushy is located not far from Blowout Mountain, and several other aptly named spots whose names I did not write down and have thus forgotten.
Update: I also forgot that we decided that Sappho Sundays should now be hosted at Big Brushy. The irony would be too good.
And lastly: though there have been no Bigfoot sightings in the Ouachita Forest to date, one can sometimes spot the elusive and very camera-shy Mister Boyfriend.


I almost never plan to visit cemeteries when I travel, but I always seem to end up there. Besides these two, there was a wind-blown plot on a cliff overlooking the Pacific ocean in Northern California and a snowy, wooded bit of ground outside Chicago. None in Dallas, for some reason. There was another one somewhere in the west of Scotland, on a much sunnier day. Maybe I'll find those pictures tomorrow, although I think that I'd best stop with these soon.

Cemeteries are full of patterns and lines.


I've been cleaning cleaning cleaning lately, and keep finding old prints. I like putting them up here, into a format that I didn't dream of when I shot them 11 years ago.
This post is dedicated to the fabulous Miss Bobbi and Lolita the Lomo.

I went through a colored-pencil stage, but I think only two prints survive of that. I always liked the odd perspective of this one - reminds me of being little and staring up at the school buildings, which always loomed up and out towards me. And the little window at the top is where I would have been, where they keep the naughty children who read too much and don't play with others.


I wonder why I always backed my prints up against the left side then? Also, I'm scanning in work prints instead of nice ones... I like the working ones better now somehow.

I used to like to walk through alleys with my camera. You can find out more from the back sides of people's houses than you can from the front.
I had more time then.

The wisteria that covers our back deck is just almost about to bloom any second now. Should be glorious. Should be the best we've seen in years. In direct response, the weather has dipped down into the 30s at night, producing major Fear of Frost in household gardeners. Never one to be conquered by mere elements, my mother has innovated. I give you...

It is truly impressive. It is stapled and clipped for greater security and has a blanket carpeting to prevent updrafts. It also features strategically placed heaters. If I was a kid - or if I was my current age but not sick - I'd be out there playing in it. It is the most fabulous Secret Hideout you ever saw. And it's just warm enough to gently coax the buds to open as they wait out this late-spring blusteryness.