....I witness things that warm my heart.
This week , the prize goes to my son, Vincent.
He, who has an hourly rate job , no car ( a little scooter for transport)
Took the day off work, unpaid, to escort my mother to the eye doctor , to have her every 6 week, very painful, eye shot....(yes, a needle in the eye. Ouch.)
He took her to the clinic on the bus, waited for her, took her home, made her tea and gave her meds and snacks, stayed with her overnight to be sure she was okay.
I am so proud of him.
He knows about love and giving, and family, and kindness and loyalty , and people can count on him.
My motherly heart glows.....

...it happens with crushing inevitability.
May rolls around and Vincent has a birthday. Then June rolls around, and it is Sarah's turn.
Today she is 26. Vincent turned 24 a month ago.
Can it be so? Am I really the parent of 2 adults? How did I get to be living a thousand miles away from them....in a different country.
I should be happy for the amazing people they have become, for the unlimited love I feel for them , for the fact that they have blessed my life.
Instead, I 'm selfishly sad, because I cannot be with them on these days.
After five years away from them, I still miss them fiercely. It will never go away, and really, I don't want it to.

...bullshit.
Over at last, thank god.
Now they can actually start being civil to each other .
They had 2 things in common, at the very least:
1) Both have been absolute bullshitters....do, and say what you need to get where you want. Anything goes.
2) Were both on a path to figure out: Who does the average american bigot hate more?A woman, or a black man?

Well, at last we know...I guess.
And it's already been decided, Americans will have neither.
McCain wins. Democracy? Yeah...whatever. Makes me ill.....all of it.
And we ALL lose........
Am I a political cynic?
Yeah, you bet.

This is my favourite Fairytale.
It is from the musical "Hedwig and the Angry Inch"

When the earth was still flat,
And the clouds made of fire,
And mountains stretched up to the sky,
Sometimes higher,
Folks roamed the earth
Like big rolling kegs.
They had two sets of arms.
They had two sets of legs.
They had two faces peering
Out of one giant head
So they could watch all around them
As they talked; while they read.
And they never knew nothing of love.
It was before the origin of love.

The origin of love

And there were three sexes then,
One that looked like two men
Glued up back to back,
Called the children of the sun.
And similar in shape and girth
Were the children of the earth.
They looked like two girls
Rolled up in one.
And the children of the moon
Were like a fork shoved on a spoon.
They were part sun, part earth
Part daughter, part son.

The origin of love

Now the gods grew quite scared
Of our strength and defiance
And Thor said,
"I'm gonna kill them all
With my hammer,
Like I killed the giants."
And Zeus said, "No,
You better let me
Use my lightening, like scissors,
Like I cut the legs off the whales
And dinosaurs into lizards."
Then he grabbed up some bolts
And he let out a laugh,
Said, "I'll split them right down the middle.
Gonna cut them right up in half."
And then storm clouds gathered above
Into great balls of fire

And then fire shot down
From the sky in bolts
Like shining blades
Of a knife.
And it ripped
Right through the flesh
Of the children of the sun
And the moon
And the earth.
And some Indian god
Sewed the wound up into a hole,
Pulled it round to our belly
To remind us of the price we pay.
And Osiris and the gods of the Nile
Gathered up a big storm
To blow a hurricane,
To scatter us away,
In a flood of wind and rain,
And a sea of tidal waves,
To wash us all away,
And if we don't behave
They'll cut us down again
And we'll be hopping round on one foot
And looking through one eye.

Last time I saw you
We had just split in two.
You were looking at me.
I was looking at you.
You had a way so familiar,
But I could not recognize,
Cause you had blood on your face;
I had blood in my eyes.
But I could swear by your expression
That the pain down in your soul
Was the same as the one down in mine.
That's the pain,
Cuts a straight line
Down through the heart;
We called it love.
So we wrapped our arms around each other,
Trying to shove ourselves back together.
We were making love,
Making love.
It was a cold dark evening,
Such a long time ago,
When by the mighty hand of Jove,
It was the sad story
How we became
Lonely two-legged creatures,
It's the story of
The origin of love.
That's the origin of love.

A lazy, slow and gentle Sunday morning.
Coffee, reading, hanging out.
Now I will head over the bridge to Berkeley , to shop for darkroom chemicals and film for my new photo class. My favourite photo store is in Berkeley, and worth the drive. I want to support businesses like this. They give excellent service, don't price gouge. It would be so much easier to shop online, but in an age of small businesses not making it, I want them to make it.

This semester, I enrolled in a more advanced class, black and white only, film only. More challenging darkroom techniques. I have had 2 classes so far, last week. Our instructor is everything I would hope for. Passionate and knowledgeable, full of information, experienced, and caring that his students get the most out of the lessons and labs.
This semester will be challenging. Three hour classes on Tuesday and Thursday evenings again, and I usually spend Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings in the darkroom to be able to keep up with turning in assignments on time. And out and about, shooting, every other spare moment that I have.
But I am SO excited. I feel like a kid.....I am back to learning new things again.
I have three classmates who were in the same class as me last semester....so we know each other well, have a lot of fun, and hang out together, being photo geeks, comparing, sharing and inspiring each other.
And my fantasy of buying a Canon 5D is pushed further into the future. Digital can wait....I will get there, eventually. I do not reject technology at all. Just that I am so absorbed by the silver/paper magic right now.

My job is going to be more demanding too. A HUGE renovation, and I will be project managing it.....so I am pretty sure my hours at work will increase.

But I will make it, and love it....I know.
I will also look to other artists and photographers for inspiration to keep me fired up.
This "Horses" photo is by Keith Carter, my current photography guru. He is incredible and I absolutely love and admire his work. Here is inspiration:

www.keithcarterphotographs.com/#

And so, to learn, to be inspired , to grow, and be filled up by possibility.

No Matter if the road is long
No matter if it's steep
No matter if the moon is gone
and the darkness is complete
No matter if we lose our way, it's written that we'll meet
At least that 's what I heard you say say
A thousand kisses deep.

I loved you when you opened like a lily to the heat
You see, I'm just another snowman standing in the rain and sleet
who loved you with his frozen love, his second hand physique
with all he is, and all he was
A thousand kisses deep.

I know you had to lie to me, I know you had to cheat
you learned it on you father's knee
and at your mother's feet
but did you have to fight your way
across the burning street?
when all our vital interests lay
a thousand kisses deep.

I'm turning tricks
I'm getting fixed
I'm back on Boogie Street
I'd like to quit the business,but I'm in it, so to speak
The thought of you is peaceful, and the file on you complete
Except what I forgot to do
a thousand kisses deep.

No matter if you're rich and strong
No matter if you're weak
No matter if you write a song
that nightingales repeat
No matter if it's nine to five
or or timeless and unique
you ditch your life to stay alive
a thousand kisses deep.

The ponies run, the girls are young
the odds are there to beat
you win awhile, and then it's done, your little winning streak
and summoned now to deal with your invincible defeat
you live your life as if it's real
a thousand kisses deep.

I hear their voices in the wine
who sometimes did me seek
the band is playing Auld Lang Syne
but the heart will not retreat
there's no forsaking what you love
no existential leap
as witness to your time and blood
a thousand kisses deep

I especially appreciate reading pieces like this following one, sent to me by my dear friend David, who is a true appreciator of "older" women:
Actually, I have been fortunate and blessed to know a number of men who sincerely value and enjoy women over 40. (including a few men who are themselves, under 40.)
This is no "Harold and Maude" scene. These guys get that sexiness and appeal are often earned by slow ripening over the years. And that cannot be rushed. They understand the appeal that is a product of attitude, intellect ,experience and confidence, which are more often present in older women.

SO, all you over 40 (or 50) women out there. Next time you are feeling marginalized or ignored by men, because of your age, remember this.
I read this as a reminder of what I aspire to with every day that I grow older.

(written by Andy Rooney - CBS 60 Minutes. )

"As I grow in age, I value women who are over 50 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

A woman over 50 will not lay next to you in bed and ask, "What are
you thinking?" She doesn't care what you think.

If a woman over 50 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit
around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And,
it's usually something more interesting.

A woman over 50 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is,what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of 50 give a damn what you might think about her or what she's doing.

Women over 50 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of
course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated.

A woman over 50 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women. Women over 50 couldn't care less if you're attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won't betray her.

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 50. They always know.

A woman over 50 looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women or drag queens.

Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 50 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off if you are a jerk or if you are acting like one! You don't ever have to
wonder where you stand with her.

Yes, we praise women over 50 for a multitude of reasons.

Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal.
For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 50+, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool
of himself with some 18-year-old waitress.

Ladies, I apologize.

For all those men who say, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" Here's an update for you. Nowadays 80% of women are against marriage. Why? Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire Pig, just to get a little sausage. "

And finally... you probably have to be over 50 just to know who Andy
Rooney is!

ps: The photo is Helen Mirren, a very kickass , very over 50 woman.

As an ex South African, I follow the political scene there with interest.
Today, driving to work, I heard on NPR, that Jacob Zuma had won the election to lead the ruling African National Congress.

This, a man who has faced corruption charges, and was the defendant in a rape case.
He testified that after having sex with the woman in question, he showered to prevent a potential HIV infection.

news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7149183.stm

He won this vote by making outrageous promises to impoverished and desperate people. Promises that he cannot possibly keep.

Just when you thought that no other political leader could have more questionable morals than GWB

I am so grateful that I, and most of the people I love, no longer live in the horrifying and rapidly degenerating sorrow called South Africa.
I am grateful that I was able to emigrate to Canada, and raise my 2 kids there, and I am grateful to be living in lovely San Francisco.

So after hours of shooting 35mm, developing it in my bathroom, hours of perfectionism in the darkroom, with nothing but stinky chemicals for company...............
Today I scanned some of my prints , so that I could post them here on my album.
I am kind of disappointed.
They are not even close to the handmade beauty of the Silver Gelatin prints, lovingly made on warm tone fibre paper., neatly and generously matted.
Oh well...those are sitting in a row in my living room right now.
One or two will become Christmas gifts.
And my head is bursting with ideas for my next series.