Lost Photos

Today I had a brief but exciting and inspiring interaction with one of my favorite photographers. As I stalked his Instagram feed, I came across a very simple and beautiful black and white image of a kitchen light. One of those fifties types that look like a carved glass tire bolted to the ceiling. I was instantly transported back to my childhood home, and then this sudden and super intense wave of emotion and nostalgia gripped me and the tears were determined to do what they do. I wish SO MUCH that I had taken some artful photos of the details there that now only live in my memory. By the end, I was so single-mindedly focused on getting it cleared out, and helping my Mom fight cancer, and moving, and trying to settle into a new 30 hour per week job – but damn, I wish I could go back in time and preserve some of those memories.

I thought I had some shots that I could maybe work with, but they all turned out to be snapshots of the evidence of what a crumbling mess it had become, in case the new owner tried to pull some shit (which she was good at).

I'm still looking through the archives, but I found this one in the "Lost Photos" folder. (I can't remember why I named it that.) This was our front yard, just about five years ago, with the beautiful walnut climbing tree – it was English grafted onto black. The tree that passers-by would stop and take photos of. Rightly so. The shed was our pump house. Mostly used to store my Dad's prized garlic and red onions. I was always terrified of the inside, because it housed a well, which I assumed led to the depths of nowhere. 

Or hell. Plus the spiders. OH, the spiders.

This space was so integral in the formation of my young creative spirit. Honestly the kind of thing I don't have words for. You just have to take my word for it.

It's all gone now. I see it five days a week from the perspective of working across the street. What was this stunning tree and cool spooky pump house is now flat dirt and weeds. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the nostalgia, to a point that I'm not sure how to move forward. I put quite a bit into the making of this image, which felt good, because it needed to be just right – just how I remember.

~

You Can't Go Home Again

I work across the street from the house I grew up in – how weird is that? It's technically a ghost town, and when I moved out after high school, my goofball friends and I took the masking tape and changed the population on the town sign from 100 to 99. True story. There's a photo somewhere. (Right, Alex?)

It's hard sometimes, to look over there and see that it's almost nothing of what I remember. But I've been noticing that my Dad's camellias have been blooming like they're going out of style. They were his pride and joy every Spring. The guy that lives there now didn't mind that I went over and cut a bundle of them. What a nice guy.

Sometimes I feel like I try to hold onto things that aren't there anymore. Walking up the steps into the yard, I was overwhelmed by the memories, and how different everything was. The garden is gone, the fences, almost every plant and tree - everything they worked so hard in their free time for. I looked in the spots where my dogs and cat are buried. I never believed that saying, “You can't go home again” - until now.

I brought as many stems home as I could hold. It was the day after a pretty intense weekend storm, so they were a little battered, but still gorgeous. I took dozens of photos of them. As soon as I finished, one popped off of its stem. I forgot how camellias do that – they don't wither...they let go, suddenly and decidedly. Then they decorate the ground for a while before they return to the Earth.

My Dad wouldn't have liked this photo – black and white wasn't his thing. Especially with his gorgeous candy cane camellias. But I'm not the boss of the photos – just the conduit to bring them into their own light. This one wanted to be dark and moody and beautiful in its shoegazey sadness. 

Who am I to argue?

~

A Decade

As of today, that's how long my Dad has been gone. That doesn't seem right.

 

My Mom called me at something like 3:30am that morning, and I knew before she even said anything. I hazily remember driving there, the tear-blurred moon seeming to guide me. He was already gone. I didn't get to say goodbye.

 

The last thing he said to me on the phone was, "Love you suge, take care of those babies."

(He always called me suge, short for sugar.)

 

He and my Mom were always the biggest supporters of my art. Even when I was just a little, and wanted to be an artist when I grew up, they always encouraged me to take that route, and never once made it sound like a foolish thing to dream. In 1998, he bought me my first SLR and took me on a mountain adventure to break it in. I'm glad that I didn't know that would be our last trip together.

 

On Thanksgiving Day 1999, he had a massive heart attack. He died twice but managed to fight back for another six years. I'm sure it was so he could meet his grandkids.

 

His legacy, one that I hope I'm passing on to my kids, is a profound love and appreciation for Nature. His down time was spent fishing, hunting, gardening and chasing the sunny spots in the yard to just sit and think.

 

Though I usually prefer shade.

 

Love you, Dad. Miss you every day.

 

xo

 

(Naughty fingers.)  :)


***

 



Spring Senior Session

Remember last week's post about the fun family shoot in Volcano? This is the second half of that day - a senior shoot with Alexis, a gorgeous girl who has mad ballet and drama skills, not to mention some great photo ideas. She's gonna go far, and I wish her much success.

Here's a sampling of the day.

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Spring Family Session

It's been a while! Why is it so hard to find a few minutes to sit down and write? Hoping this is the beginning of more regular posting. Hoping!

 

Last month I had the pleasure of spending a gorgeous Spring afternoon with this amazing family in the little hamlet of Volcano, California. They were joy and laughter and goofiness and togetherness, and what an honor to capture some of that magic.

 

This kindness arrived from Margaret after the photos were (finally!) delivered:

 

"I have quite honestly never seen a picture of myself that I truly enjoy..... until tonight. It is not that the structure of my face has changed, nor that I suddenly love my shape. It has to do with the wonderful, patient woman who spent a few hours following my and my silly family around one Saturday a few weeks ago and took the time to see and learn and capture who we are. What I see in these pictures is the joy that is my family - personified. Thank you, thank you, thank you a hundred times over Krista for your magnificent work and for truly seeing us!"

 

 (*gasp and blush*)

 

Huge gratitude to all of you.

xo

 

These are a few of my favorites.

 

Come back in a bit to see the second part of this day!

 

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Yes to more.

 Don't get me wrong,

I am beyond grateful for all of the things.

(The huge and the itty bitty ... all of them.)

But today during a shoot, as I stood in this spot with a kitty companion at my feet and 

savored the December sun,

I found myself saying yes to more.

More days like today.

It was like all the limits lifted,

and every crazy notion of some ideal life that passes through my head,

is all possible.

But so much more.

"What you seek is seeking you."

 ~ Rumi ~

Dream big, compadres.

*

 *

Fabulous Forties

Today I turn 40.

FORTY.

I double and triple-check the number coming out of my mouth,.

Somehow it's true.

My thirties were good ... watching my kids grow into their awesomeness,

forging new amazing friendships, lots of creative growth.

But it was also a decade with much loss and sadness.

There were a lot of very dark days that I didn't think I would pull out of.
I wondered if I was even capable of joy beyond the little whispers.

Now that I am coming into my own new era, I am finally starting to find some stillness and peace with myself.

Like the dust has finally settled, and resurrection is on the horizon.

Ashes, phoenix, all that jazz.

Thinking about my forties gives me uber butterflies.
(That's always a good thing.)

I am grateful.

For family, friends, animal companions, clients, cameras, divine food and drink, art, music, gardens, rain, sunshine, moonshine, little moments, big moments, opportunities, change, and
every.
little.
bit.

It's time to delve and cultivate.

To re-discover my weirdo Self ... Hallelujah.

Follow the journey, if you like.
I'm all for good company.

Here we goooooo .....

xo

( The last photo of my thirties ... )

May Day

Welcome, May.

 

Welcome, because April had such a tainted funk to it.

I felt robbed of my usual Spring Fever.

 

It wasn't all terrible, and I am grateful for the good,

but there was definitely an undefinable shadow,

and I know I wasn't the only one who experienced it.

 

It's been over 3 months since my Mom passed.

Sometimes I felt like I was doing okay,

but through most of April I was a daily train-wreck.

(Only to myself of course ... I can only let on so much to the world.)

 

 I am smack-dab in the middle of the life I knew and the life I have yet to know,

and no idea what to do with myself.

I feel like I've been grasping and trying to force what I want.

And that never *EVER* works.

This I know.

I often see glimpses of an ideal life.

It's not entirely different than this one,

but it's absolutely what I am striving for.

(I think no matter how happy we are, we all have those ideals.)

 I see it with such a clarity that I can't imagine how it's not real.

It's like seeing it through a window,

but not knowing how to get there.

So.

I am going to attempt more kindness to myself,

and out of my hunger for clarity,

begin releasing all the physical and mental clutter that is suffocating me.

{ More space = more light. }

 

I also think I'm going to take a very pseudo-hiatus from photography.

Just a little break from the feverish pace I've been maintaining.

 

HOWEVER

I will still be working on pending projects,

and am still open to sessions, orders and the like

(of course!),

just feel like I need to loosen the reins, 

let it breathe and do what it wants to do for a while.

I have invested 

SO

MUCH

into it over the years, and now feel like I need to step back just a bit.

 

Just to see what happens.

~

 

 (Happy May to you ... I hope you are living your ideals.)

Giving it all away.

Last night I watched an inspiring talk by Amanda Palmer on TED Talks ~

http://www.ted.com/talks/amanda_palmer_the_art_of_asking.html 

That rocked my world.

Changing perspective, it's something I try to do often.

Lately I've been trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing with photography.

Yes, do it, I know that.

But then what?

So to stir up energies a bit, I have an idea.

 It's just a little something to start.

I have a handful (or two) of prints.

They aren't doing any good sitting in my stock, so I'm going to give them away.

Yes.

Give them away.

I will post an availability list below.  Contact me at 

krista@kristaglavichphotography.com 

if there is one you would like.

Send back whatever you are able ~ money, art, whatever.

And if you aren't able, that's okay too.

I feel things overall changing for the better.

We need more connection and gifts and creativity and positive vibes.

Expand the circle.

Here is the list (click on the titles to view) ~ 

These are 5x7 (or 5x5 if square), and retail for $18

Blackbird

St. Francis

Preston Castle Twilight Exterior

Volcano Doors  (2 available)

Foggy Rings

August Drive III

Mary

Autumn Vineyard

Horse

Bell Flower

Carnival Tent

Yoyo

Barrel Room

Summer Oak

Summer Vineyard I

Volcano Door Lace

Volcano Theatre Doors

Feather

Cleome Heart

Sky Blue Heart

Antique Store Puppet

Mailboxes

Hyacinth

These are 8x10, and retail for $30

Player Piano Rolls

Autumn Vineyard Detail

Mailboxes 

Volcano Doors 

Mary

Mannequin 

Cash Register Keys 

Preston Castle Twilight Exterior

Tristan's Daisy 

Kennedy Mine Tailing Wheels II 

 That's about $800 worth of work.

Not that much to some people, a lot to others ... whatever.

 It's a big trusting leap, and I want you to have it.

  Be inspired, my friends.

~  ~  ~

How are you?

How are you doing?

How are you feeling?

How are you holding up?

I've never been asked so many times in my life.

Short answer:

Broken.

Long answer:

Helplessly riding waves of desperate grief and surprising calm.

Witnessing this bizarre stillness, like nothing I've ever known.
Surrounded by sadness, trying to just be within it.
Let it be what it needs to be, so that I can let it go.

A week feels like a day.

She's been gone over two weeks already.

January, you were cruel in your dissonance. 

I will never forget you,
but I won't miss you. 

 ~ ~ ~

Last month, when she was really turning for the worse, I felt a call to mandalas.
I printed one out, and raided my son's pens.
I began to color.
It has become something to fall on, something I look forward to.
A way to meditate, which I've really been wanting to incorporate into daily life.
And though it's still just at its beginning, I have learned the importance of 
focusing on the present ~ 
being aware of all, but concentrating on the perfect now.

I spend this time contemplating my place in this world, what I'm supposed to do, how I can contribute and be a positive force.
I think it's bigger than just photography, but don't yet know what.
Ideas are simmering.  Don't know if they're any good, but that doesn't matter.

There is such a vast space now, and it's a bit frightening and overwhelming.
So I'm attempting to let go of everything that no longer serves an uplifting purpose, and fill that space with cultivating the things that I want in my life ~ 
good health, finding my center, expanding creativity, a circle of *incredible* and inspiring friends, and following the path, one step, one mark at a time.

In a word:  Movement.

~ ~ ~

 "Let the wind repeat your prayers and petitions."  ~Jersey Murmurs

 

The post I never wanted to write.

Today would have been my Mom's 76th birthday.

At 10:33am yesterday, her nurse called and said I should come be with her.

At 10:43am, as I was leaving work, she called back to tell me she was gone.

The weather report early that morning said that the few little showers down south would end shortly.

When she passed, it started to rain, and it didn't stop all day.

And it was so dark.

These last two years have just been a horrendous dream that I'm about to wake up from, right?

I pinched myself as I sat in the foggy night, but it only hurt, it didn't wake me up.

Two years ago, she was diagnosed with a very aggressive, small-cell lung cancer.

She did everything she was supposed to do ~ endless appointments for chemo, radiation, blood work, transfusions, in and out of the hospital ~ and always with a smile, and a reassuring "I'm fine".

She would endure five-day chemo treatments every few weeks, ending with two days of 8-9 hour treatments an hour away in Folsom, seemingly unfazed.

All that fight, and it fucking took her anyway.

My Mom was everything that is good.  She would do anything for anyone.

She didn't deserve any of this.

People keep telling me that I did all I could, but I don't think I'll ever be able to stop feeling like I should have done more.

This winter goes down in history as the darkest and coldest.

There is a stillness and emptiness in my world now that I'm not sure how to walk through with any kind of grace.

Mom, I miss you and love you more than you'll ever know.

I know that Dad and the rest of the family are taking good care of you.

I wish you all the peace, love, joy and light that there is.

~ xoxox ~

 

 

Clearance sale!

End-of-year purge!

All in-stock prints listed
HERE
are 50% off with code

2012CLEARANCE

at checkout. 

~ xox ~

Full Moon and Fog

fog
full moon
rushing stream
frogs
owl
cold
stillness
brandy
anton corbijn
music
and
time with dear faraway friends

a lovely (don't want it to) end to five days off ~ ♥

Thanksgiving

It's Thanksgiving.  Sunset.

Thinking about how we all live deeply in our own way,

and the unknown effects we have.

Someone nearby has created an irresistably delicious smell.

I don't even know where it's coming from, but they have inspired me.

Life is moment by moment.

Suddenly a year has passed.

Suddenly ten.

I stand beneath this cotton candy sky,

grateful for it all despite my loneliness this holiday

(feline company excluded, thanks Chester).

Happy Thanksgiving to you.

 

 

 

 

Center

Truth be told, this was a rough week.  Out of sheer necessity, this morning I created a window for myself to center and re-group.  I got quiet, became present, and savored what was below me ...

 

... what was next to me ...

 

... and what was above me.

 

A Saturday night cheers to getting still.

Much love. 

~ ~ ~

 

 

Day Off

I secretly wish it would stay gloomy and rainy today.

Magic

Lately there has been a surge of reminders about creating one's reality, creating one's own magic.  {Thank you to those who have had a hand ... you know who you are.}  It sounds so cryptic and out there, but I'm learning that it's as simple as moment-by-moment choices, being present and open.  It's the late-day backlight skipping over stones and through the liquidambar tree, Mazzy Star on headphones, change-worthy dreams and children nestling close. Awareness.  Making use of the mental camera.  Creating your surroundings and absorbing your environment ... it is of you as you are of it.

And sometimes it's just happening upon a blue orchid while choosing apricots at the market~ 

Summer Solstice

Today I will remain present and embrace this brightest day of the year.  Today I will picnic and venture to the pool with my children.  Today I will plant corn.  (In pots.  In your face, gophers.)  I will savor the spicy chai on my lips.  I will be curious about the shimmering blue light across the meadow.  I will make something delicious.  I will give mondo gratitude for every. single. thing.  

Today I will shoot.

Happy Solstice ... share your rituals, reflections ... show me your day.

Step away from the funk.

I get in funks.  Sometimes they're really hard to get out of.  Today I think I figured out that the key is to move.  Even if I don't want to, just simple movement can be the necessary shift.  I was in a funk this morning.  The kids begged and begged (ad infinitum) to go to the pool.  The answer was repeatedly, "No".  Then they spent a good deal of time cleaning their rooms, and worked really hard.  I caved and took them, and it ended up being the positive shift that I sought.  The kids' joy, the smell of barbecue and chlorine, the perfect breeze, dappled shade, armed with my camera, journal and a copy of Momma Zen ..... I found my center yet again.  

What are the little things that are your happiness?

Summer vacation

Hellooo, June.  It's the first full day of summer vacation for the kiddos ~ art on the deck, popsicles, crafts and merry-making ensues.  I tend to get emotional at the end of school years, knowing they're another year older, another grade higher, leaps and bounds before my eyes.  I want to savor the Summer and the little time left of them being little, give them fun and adventure, and take pictures.  Lots and lots of pictures.

And your Summer plans?