When the Camera Met Astro

There’s always that first time a new loved one meets my camera.

Or is it really my camera meeting them? I always seem to capture the moments exactly as they fall into place, sort of the way it always works out. Instinct. Technique. More of one than the other. Self-doubt. Pure emotion. I can’t say that I’ve been really up on myself with photography or writing lately. Sometimes it’s hard for me and sometimes it isn’t. It’s just that there’s so much perspective and emotion crammed into blog posts and photographs, no matter how wide the bandwidth and how large the format. I only took phone photos the day we got Astro because I was focused on keeping the surprise under wraps and holding a wiggly puppy for a three hour car ride. Not that it wasn’t pure bliss. I shouldn’t have been worried.

We spent a few days, and then weeks, getting to know each other. He has started puppy class and he’s tried to chew our entire house. We’ve had some user-error-induced house breaking accidents, but we’re learning the way and so is he. He brightens my day. I’ve been so tired since we got him – just flat-out exhausted at the end of the day. I was already so bad at balancing parenting and personal/social life and work and writing/photography for fun. Then you throw a puppy into the mix and the fact that he has to be watched or crated when I’m working. Yet, sometimes he’s just the brightest star in my sky.

And the best part of my day. Pure unconditional affection. He doesn’t cower like Athena, act like too much of a cat like Junie (the cat), break my heart like humans, and cause Salmonella like the chickens. I can just scoop him up, day after day, moment after moment – sometimes letting tears drip down his fur. He’s perfect and new. And he smells good. And he’s fluffy – although changing color every day. Not to mention, will we EVER know what kind of dog he is? Maybe. Probably not.

So that’s my story for you, and it’s one of love and newness and how the emotions spill out into words and then spill out into photos and somehow with spoken words and written words and photographs, other people get a bit of an idea of it all.

So this is my photo story for you:

This is me linking up, as one of my favorite things to do, with Finish The Sentence Friday. This week’s topic is Photo Share Friday And there’s still time to write yours. Come link up with your spin: HERE. What’s your photo? What’s its story?

He’s pretty irresistible, isn’t he?

When She Marched

This is me linking up, as one of my favorite things to do, with Finish The Sentence Friday. This week's topic is Photo Share Friday And there's still time to write yours. This was from our little city's Pride Parade in May.

As usual, there is no way I’ll keep this “Photo Share Friday” to just one photo!

For that matter, it won’t be one story either. I’m not sure I’m capable of that, since my career is pretty much that of a glorified storyteller. Oh, do I love stories. Even when I think they’re not that interesting, I prove myself wrong each time.

Pretty much every story has a hot core of infinite other stories.

Most of you probably know this about where I live, but it’s a bit of a happy bubble.

It’s very live and let live, unless you cut in line at the winter farmer’s market and get the last of the kale! (slight joke) I’m not here to say that any way to live is right or wrong, but I’m telling you like it is. Northampton and its surrounding areas have a high number of unique lifestyles. I could say gay, bi, trans, etc. but it’s much more than that. It’s like I said – live and let live. Be and let be. Rock out and let others rock out. In other words, “Who cares if it isn’t hurting you?” Unless someone cuts you off from their little hybrid car, that runs on corn oil. Then just give them a friendly wave, or a one finger salute.

I’m not here to judge either way.

Thing is, my kids don’t know any other way to live – other than letting other people live (kale and corn oil cars, aside) – and I don’t really want to tell them the truth quite yet. That there are a bunch of people in this world who aren’t comfortable with who they are, and they try to change it for the rest of us. This here is our land of rich greenery and rich Pride.

And don’t take that away from us. Or I really will give you more than a one finger salute. I’ll pelt you with kale.

This was not our most recent Pride Parade and Rally. This was in 2016, but hey, that’s where my Photo Share Fridays have been taking place, so why change it now? It rained in May of 2016 for three weeks straight. I couldn’t bear it. I had all kinds of fantasies about pelting Mother Nature with kale and corn oil. And I wanted to leave. I’m really glad I didn’t, though.

There’s just so much to see and be otherwise.

Like a Giant Eye! Or a furry. Or a furry driving a school bus. Or undefined, and still awesome.

And honestly it’s the longest parade ever. It goes on for a full hour and this isn’t a huge place!

We’ve been bringing both kids since they were babies. I would have come earlier, had I known about the parade! We only missed one year because I was photographing a senior beauty pageant in Connecticut, but generally we always go, and the sun ALWAYS comes out. It’s always a gorgeous day. Even last year the second the parade started, the rain clouds ducked away and revealed a sparkling sun over all of the rainbows and the fanfare. If that isn’t magic, I don’t know what is!

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This is me linking up, as one of my favorite things to do, with Finish The Sentence Friday. This week’s topic is Photo Share Friday. And there’s still time to write yours. Come link up with your spin: HERE. What’s your photo? What’s its story?

Which photo most invites you to find out the story?