the gratitude list

Back at home after enjoying Thanksgiving dinner with my family in the Atlanta suburbs. It was a wonderful meal, with both my brothers attending. This year we were also joined by my boyfriend, Rob, and my brother's girlfriend, Ana, who made a couple of scrumptious side dishes for our feast.

It was a really good day.

Things I have loved or appreciated recently:

- The way Ana's entire face lights up when she is talking about food she loves. She gestures with her hands, her eyes widen, and you feel your own pulse quicken at the thought of potentially tasting the food she's describing.
- The chance to enjoy very good food with Ana and Scott... they are discriminating food-lovers with terrific taste in food. Dining out with them really tops my list of yummy and fun things to do. (Last night I took them to Feast and they really enjoyed it.)
- The way my parents have made such an effort to welcome Rob and Ana into their lives. My parents have three children. Two of those children chose partners and married, and both of those marriages ended. Clearly, this was not part of what they wanted for us. But they are rolling with it and finding a way to enjoy "Plan B."
- Being able to make a living doing things that I really like.
- Being able to take photos every day of things that interest me.
- Actually knowing what to do with the photos once I have taken them (really enjoying getting to know Lightroom right now).
- A growing sense of spaciousness and permission to explore my creative dreams. That sounds really corny, doesn't it? But it's true. I am really grateful for the opportunity to develop my creative sensibilities.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

bits and pieces

The wonderful Doug Plummer has a great entry in his blog about the unchronicled, unsung skills needed to be a good photographer. As someone who is still trying to grasp many of the technical elements of photography, I found his perspective refreshing:

"...The technical minutia of photography is the easy part. It's just a skill set. The crucial element is your ability to connect with the diversity of subjects and clients and situations that a professional photographic life is going to throw at you. The crucial quality is curiosity."

I just love that thought. The whole entry is wonderful.

This has been an interesting week for work and photography. For the first time, I'm going to be working part-time in a situation that allows me lots of exposure (heh) to photographers and photography. The job is definitely small potatoes right now, but I'm still really optimistic about getting to learn more, meet new people, and increase my skill set. I feel like I'm at a plateau photographically right now — perhaps one of many plateaus I will reach during my creative life — and I am looking forward to reaching beyond it.

Photography-related links I've been enjoying lately:
- Kathleen Connally's "A Walk through Durham Township, Pennsylvania" photoblog
- Photographer Jeremy Cowart's portraits tagged "experimental"
- Bill Wadman's incredible 365 Portraits project. This guy is amazing. One new portrait shot and posted each day. Thanks to Paulie for the link.

Don't tell anybody, but it's 3:00 pm and I'm about to go sack out on the couch and watch a movie. I divided the morning between yoga and some freelance work. Tonight I'm getting together with a friend for some wine and conversation (her email was titled "we should drink more").

Life is pretty good.

samba, sun, and feng shui

I'm sitting here in the kitchen with Stan Getz playing and the A/C going strong. I'm putting together a dish for tonight's movie potluck at Jean's house — we're going to watch Venus. Tomorrow I'm headed to Virginia with my boyfriend for a visit with his family. The trip is kind of last minute, and a happy reflection on the fact that I no longer need to sacrifice half of my accrued vacation hours for a spontaneous little road trip.

Yesterday was my last day of work at the Very Large Multinational Corporation, and I'm very glad to have that chapter behind me. Four of us on my team were leaving our jobs on the same day, the results of the restructuring process. We all went out to lunch, told some funny work stories, and turned in our badges to HR. I don't think any of us wrung our hands or shed any tears yesterday.

The photo above depicts my desk at the VLMC. My office was in a dark little cave, a room with bad ventilation and not much natural light. I'm glad to leave that space behind and to spend more time in my tiny little apartment, which I have always loved.

I've been unemployed for 24 hours! No regrets so far.

Okay, there is one final mystery lingering in my mind about the VLMC, and then I'll stop talking about it, I swear:

My co-worker Wendy had been with the Corporation for 8 years. She started her career as a Level 2 associate, then worked up to Level 3 Manager, and then, in February, was promoted to Level 4 Director. Wendy was terrific in this role, and was getting lots of kudos from her supervisors. She was a great employee because she knew how to play the game and speak the language of the Corporation convincingly. At the same time, she remained a real person, and not some sort of corporate robot who spoke only in acronyms. She enjoyed her work and brought real credibility to her role.

Anyhow, as she was going through the restructuring process with the rest of us, Wendy was told that she was going to be demoted from Level 4 back to Level 3. Then she was told that the VLMC was going to hire a new Level 4 Director, and that Wendy would be reporting to that person in the future.

Why would this happen? This news just stunned me. I must emphasize that Wendy was the perfect fit for her role at Level 4. She was incredibly smart, accomplished, and energetic. Does this just mean that someone at Level 5 had it in for her?

At any rate, the issue is moot. Wendy told the VLMC to go jump in a lake (I am paraphrasing a bit). She was one of the four employees who left the Corporation yesterday. When I heard that she was resigning, I went to her and threw my arms around her in a terribly unprofessional bear hug, because it was so nice to know that the bad guys were not going to get her. As of yesterday, Wendy had already interviewed a couple of times with a terrific company and was well on her way to a better job.

It feels funny to be in this place right now. At the kitchen table, with a Stan Getz samba coming through the speakers, fresh laundry tumbling in the dryer down the hall. I'm an unemployed, divorced 33-year-old woman with a big swirl of ideas in my head, a handful of half-baked ambitions and no real clout in the job market. Yet I couldn't be happier with my choices and where I am.

I have already started looking for other work — I don't intend to just be a hippie for the next ten years. But I feel enormously satisfied with the places my decisions have taken me. I plan to take the next few weeks off to soak in that feeling, swim around in it for a while. I ordered a copy of the book Sacred Space. Feng shui is kind of corny and passé these days, I suppose, but I still love the concept. When the book arrives I'm going to do some space-clearing rituals here at home, reset the energy for the next passage of life.

These small moments seem to be my happiest ones. Singing, loafing, cooking, cleaning up, sweeping, reading, shooting photos. None of them are mountaintop moments. But those are the moments when I experience a profound peace with who I am and who I am becoming.

dancing in the living room

Last night I got together with some friends for an evening of Irish set dancing. I've dabbled in dance for years, but my familiarity with Irish dancing begins and ends with those Riverdance commercials you used to see on TV.

The dance was at Wendy's house. She lives just a couple of miles from me in a beautiful bungalow adorned with prayer flags and candles and Buddha statues and more gorgeous cookbooks than I've ever seen gathered in one place.

As my boyfriend and I arrived, Emily was starting to make eggnog in the kitchen. She made a glass for Stephanie with a bit of brandy, and Stephanie tasted it and laughed and said, Oh, Emily, could I have a little eggnog with my brandy? Then the music started.

There was a beautiful Irish harp, and two people who knew how to play it well – this felt like some kind of miraculous coincidence. And a fiddle, a guitar, a flute, a bodhran. While the musicians warmed up, Scott gave us the basics on the steps, which, of course, were nothing at all like Riverdance. And then we started dancing.

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my divorce. It seems weird to use the words "anniversary" and "divorce" in the same sentence. I've been wondering what this anniversary might feel like, because my memory of the event last year is still so fresh – the trip to the courthouse, shaking the judge's hand in his chambers, inviting two of my best friends over for a ritual after the divorce, where I sobbed and sobbed.

The steps were easy to pick up on. When you dance in an Irish set, you dance in a tight group of four couples, everyone standing practically shoulder to shoulder. If you lose your balance, you just kind of bump into somebody else and move right along. The dance figures were not delicate, uplifted gestures with a lot of finesse. They called for twirling and jostling around. The flames on the candles trembled as we thundered by. Scott's shoes sounded like handclaps when they hit the floor. It started raining outside and another set of eight dancers squeezed into the crowded living room. Every time we came to the "round the house" figure, Rob would say, "Ready?" and I would pull him a little closer and say, "yes."

About halfway through the evening Stephanie took off her shoes. She approached Wendy, and said, "I think I'm going to just leave these off, because I'm worried about your floor," and Wendy said, "Oh, honey, you couldn't hurt this floor if you tried."

The past couple of years were so hard, with so much change crammed into such a small space of time. Last year alone, I quit my job, moved twice, started freelancing, and got a divorce. This year it feels like I finally slowed down, landed in a soft place. And when I stood up and got my bearings, I realized that I was exactly where I wanted and needed to be.

The musicians were still going at it when we finally left. The drizzle outside made halos around the street lights, and the music followed us as we went.

favorites

One of my favorite feelings ever is to be in a new place with (a) somebody I really like, and (b) no major plans to speak of.

I was bowled over by a big wave of this feeling when I took this photo of my brother Scott as he escorted me patiently through Washington, DC on a sunny Friday in October. After wrapping up a couple of days of work for the Very Large Multinational Corporation, I was taking an extra day off for myself. We were crossing the street at the beginning of a gloriously unstructured day. The air was crisp and the sun was shining. I thought, "Everything right now is perfect."

(I'd like to hear about one of your favorite feelings.)