Eat. Dessert. First.

 

 

 

Happiness, you sneaky thing. You've been right here all along! At many points in my journey, I've felt as if happiness is as elusive as a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It's one of those things that I can find in hindsight, though I may have missed it in the moment. The past few days have been such a time of reflection for me. The seasons are changing right before my very eyes, yet I don't want to miss a thing. This blog has marked a change of seasons for me on a very real level, both professionally and spiritually. It's my way of ensuring myself that I will take time and reflect, enjoy every step of this journey and chronicle the beauty of change that is taking place in my life. Change can be a little scary, or a lot scary, especially to someone like myself who is very much a planner. I had a five year plan, a ten year plan. Heck, I probably could come up with a thirty year plan if you gave me five more minutes, but that's not what life is all about. For me it's about reconciling my passions and talents in a way that allows me to live life freely and extravagantly. I will wear my most ridiculous shoes just because they make me smile. I will eat my dessert first. Why yes, I will have another glass of wine! I will dance to the music in my head even if it brings strange looks because we only have one chance. There is no tomorrow, there is only today. Today I am choosing to dance in the rain, even if I am dancing alone. We all have a choice to make my friends. What is yours? 

White Picket Fences

Model: Viry  Rendon

"Little boxes an a hillside, little boxes made of ticky-tacky." That was a Weeds reference if you didn't catch that. Moving on. Today was a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Literally. I've driven past this fence so many times and thought this was a great spot to capture, so today was the day! There's something very American Dream-esque about a white picket fence. It reminds me of summertime and cook-outs, lemonade and pixie sticks, front porches and cold beer...Well, we had none of that today but what we did have was 75 degree weather, a camera and a fabulous chiffon skirt (wink, wink). Somewhere in the universe, someone looked upon my poor, cold, Texan soul and knew that I could not take one more cloudy day. For that I am grateful. Happy Valentine's day guys!

Where the magic happens...

I save everything. Cards, notes, tickets from concerts and shows long forgotten about, but mostly pictures. Over the years, I've taken thousands of photos. I was going through a box of things while moving recently and came across a bunch of photos from my childhood and fell into a nostalgic trance as I flipped through those aged pictures. Something in the air changed around me as I explored those memories from so long ago, times that seem so much simpler now, but surely had their fair share of ups and downs. One particular picture stood out. An old polaroid, aged into a muted sepia over time. It was a picture of me and my grandmother, she in her flowing summer dress, and me on her hip probably at 3 or 4 years old trying to block the sun with my hand turning what I'm sure was a smile into a slight grimace. We were standing in front of a house, whose house, I don't know. As hard as I tried, I could not remember that day, but there it was. There we were. What I did remember was the smell of her perfume, thick and floral warmed in the summer heat. I remembered the cool feel of the rocks that I would always gather as we walked in the park near her home to put on the dresser only to find them thrown out the next day. I remember sitting on her porch reading the Sunday comics that she saved for me all year until I came to visit. See, I'm an Army brat. My dad was a career military man which led to us moving around my entire life. Parts of my life are a huge blur of school after school, home after home, friendships that grew apart with time and age. There are so many vivid memories that I have of my childhood, but it's the moments that I don't remember that take me to that special place trying to piece together my memories. Those moments buried deep inside our mind that come pouring back as vividly as when we experienced them. Maybe that's why I've saved these mementos all these years, lugging them from place to place, holding onto a piece of something. Some memory, some feeling. That's the magic of photography. Capturing a moment. A moment that will never come again. A moment that may have been forgotten, but are nonetheless a part of our journey. This is where the magic happens. Welcome to The Smokeshow.