Sidetracked Charley

I had a rather different day planned yesterday. And I think everyone I met also had different plans bringing up the question as to why all doctor's offices close on Good Friday. Or Christmas Eve or 3th of July. There is even an an acknowledgement among medical professionals that those winding up in an emergency ward on a holiday or holiday eve may get less than best of care. Treat and street seems more common. And more critically ill patients will delay coming in until the first work day after a holiday when it could be too late. Doctors, nurses and paramedics want time off. They are human and their families want to see them. So administrations at urgent care facilities and emergency wards juggle rotations to allow workers some time off to enjoy family events. At the same time holidays can be inherently dangerous times. Not just 4th of July with the fireworks or boating accidents. I was shocked some years back, when researching DWI crisis in New Mexico, to find out Good Frida

The Chaste Moon by J. Binford-Bell Artist's Statement :  I have always loved colors, shapes, and patterns. I see dragons in the clouds, gnomes in the rocks, sprite s dancing in the light, and sea nymphs in watery reflections. Since I was very young I recorded what I saw with crayons, pencils, clay, and paint, but a camera is one of my favorite tools since very young. Digital technology in cameras and dry darkroom has allowed me to show the world I see to others. I love its immediacy; the now of it. Nothing quite equals uploading a day’s images onto the computer screen. It is like opening a box of chocolates. There is always what you think you took and what you really did capture. My camera is my window to the world. Just having it in my hand or beside me in the car seat opens a whole new set of possibilities. That may explain the photographic image above but it also explains why I collect crosses. both as wall decorations and as jewelry. I just love the shapes of them. Cr

Phoebe Reverent The Thursday of Holy Week in the Catholic calendar is Maundy or Holy Thursday or Covenant Thursday or Great and Holy Thursday or Sheer Thursday or my favorite Thursday of Mysteries. That seems to go best with the name for yesterday which is Spy Wednesday. Thursday of Mysteries was when Jesus, per the new testament of the Bible, washed the feet of the poor and also the day of the last supper. Confess it. Didn't you think the Last Supper was on Friday? Why else would it be good Friday? He was crucified on Friday. Now here is the mystery as I see it -- Maundy Thursday was not necessarily the Thursday that proceeded Good Friday. Because there was Judas and the priests (ever wonder why priests and not rabbis) and the Romans involved, trial and torture and mobs calling for the prophet to be put to death. So we need to add at least a week or two. Knowing the Bible 40 days probably came in there somewhere. They were way fond of 40 days in those days. The days when th

Full Worm Moon Beautiful moon last night. I was searching for the definitive moon picture. This was from inside the studio with a beveled glass Gothic cross in front. One of the clearest ever pictures I have gotten of the moon. And further research into that old age question of how much of any photograph has to be in focus. As I approach the last four days of Lent I find myself pondering the question of how much communication really communicates. Twitter with 140 characters (that is not words but key strokes); FaceBook, which began with 400 characters; and the infamous 10 second soundbyte on television news has definitely gutted communication. And then there is the meme where no words are necessary. Due to the Supreme Court sitting in judgment this week to the equality in marriage even personal avatars are reduced to the equal signs. It was while pondering which of the many variations, an effort to put a personal twist on it, I wanted to use it struck me that there is no equal

Kodak DuaflexII I posed a question on my Creative Journey blog about my purpose in photography. And how I would sum up in 150 words my objective in this often on and off love of mine. Consider it a 150 word artistic mission statement. And as I have found before sometimes to know where you are going you have to know where you have been. The Kodak Duaflex II camera above was not my first camera. I seem to remember a Brownie box camera that had been my mother's and then an Instamatic which I asked for as a Christmas present. My parents saw both of those cameras as tests. You take care of these and we will see, sort of test. Dad believed in getting us kids anything that furthered our interest in hobbies and arts. And because these were his interests he got himself the top of the line in rods and reels, cameras, leather work tools, etc. When he upgraded we got the cast offs which he had always taken the best of care with. So when I was off to college and needed something other

Wee Willow and The Darkness expressing surprise that this is Willow Sunday It is Willow Sunday. No, not Wee Willow Sunday though she is inclined to think so. Willow as in the plant. The alternate name for Palm Sunday being Willow Sunday is news to me, but it certainly makes sense. Palms do not grow everywhere. And even in my mountainous area willows are present and often the first sign of life as we emerge from winter. Though today any willow stupid to be trying to leaf out would have frozen. It was three degrees last night. And at this time we have not gotten above freezing. Fortunately I had only two remaining tasks on the rental unit. Both inside. Adjust a closet door and hang a ceiling fan in the master bedroom. When my late ex-husband and I worked electrical construction together I got the ceiling fans. Actually I got most of trim out while Marc tied in the main panel. There is only two really important things to know about installing ceiling fans (or any light fixture to a

Macbeth: To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. Macbeth Act 5, scene 5, 19–28 Yesterday was about doing. Doing what I really didn't want to do in weather I did not want to do it in. March again gave us gale force winds chilling a day that would have been great without it. I am trying to clean up my property. More specifically the huge mess the last tenants left. And a scrap wood pile the studio contractor left and I added to. It all has gotten totally out of hand. With no help from the winds this winter which more than any previous year seems to have blown in trash from Hwy 434. I h

My turn to whine I got a flat tire today. Well, it didn't get exactly flat but it was on its way to there when I noticed it and swung by one of the three places I can put air in it. Actually I swung by two. One was out of order. I think one is always out of order. And the other took quarters of which I had none. By the time I waited out the people getting gas (let me mention they put the air machine in absolutely the wrong place by the gas pumps) and got change for it the tire was really close to flat. And as I am filling it up I notice the huge nail. So off to my mechanic. I have awful luck with tires. I have hardly ever gotten a puncture that can be plugged. Always on the sidewall or like this one too close to be safely plugged. So I have to buy a new tire. Well, actually two. It was a snow tire that was punctured and it is about time to take them off anyway. The new tires will not be here until Wednesday so I am running around on that little donut they call a spare. That

Ten more days of Lent. Sacrifice ought to be getting easier. But it is not. I admit to having learned a lot by this whole experience. The biggest lesson learned is that social media depends upon drama queens. And if you are unwilling to provide some drama you are immediately as isolated as a prophet in the wilderness. Lesson two is that what you are doing on social media overlaps to what you are doing in the real world. That was partly my intent -- to discover just how much I have to be the one who initiates a conversation. Friendships should be two way streets. Conversations on the phone, between neighbors and on the ethernet take two people or more. Note: this was a test for me and not my friends. I have this weakness of trying to fill dead air. And I have been filling it as it were with more times with dogs, books, blogs, exercise, meditation, and photography. But every once in a while I get this burning desire to share something. I just want to get on Facebook and fill the s

Big Horn Sheep My friend Jessica and I went looking for animals to photograph, and specifically yesterday we were looking for Big Horn Sheep. A few weeks ago, totally by accident, we stumbled on the Red River flock. I knew these gentle and magnificent animals had been reintroduced into Arizona and then New Mexico wilderness areas after having been almost totally killed off by diseases carried by domestic sheep. I did not know how well they were doing until I saw them in Red River, and then yesterday along the eastern and western edges of the Rio Grande River Gorge. In the two weeks since the accidental sighting along the Red River photographers have been quietly telling us where else they can be found. But as the picture above indicates you have to look closely. They camouflage quite nicely, and make you wonder how many I have seen but not noticed. Watching Us This small flock with two adult rams was along an escarpment defining the path of the Rio Grande River as it emer

I hate getting my financial records ready for my tax accountant. And for years I had myself to getting them to her by March 1st. You may notice we are 17 days past that time. I really have to get it done today. I owe no money so no doubt she will file an extension. That is cool because I am getting nothing back. In point of fact I really probably would not have to file this year. But I have a business that made no profit in 2012 and a rental unit that I only got six months of rent for. But hopefully both of those things will change next year. And if they do and I didn't not file this year I will get audited. Point of fact it is probably only 30 minutes for the accountant of plugging in my numbers into the computer. And only a couple hours of me sorting receipts and finding out how much I did not make. That is the truly depressing part. Admittedly 2013 is beginning better already. No, let me amend that. March 2013 has shown an uptick. And I have stopped buying art supplies ev

House with the porch barrier The previous owner of my residence fancied himself an accomplished carpenter among other things. He enclosed both the back porches and the front porch. I removed the back enclosures some years ago because he did not reinforce the supports for the porch before he did it. The weight was tearing the porch away from the house. That support problem did  not  occur in the front but it made the entry to the house dark and totally hid the rental unit door. I hated it but felt it helped keep the blowing snow off the porch. Today I decided I would rather shovel the snow. Three feet of barrier to porch cut away I cut away three feet of the deteriorating surround on the porch and revealed the original center support of the overhang. The opening on the left was covered with paneling before I removed it. By removing it you can now see both doors to both units A and B. This will also make it way easier to get furniture moved into unit A. And I found some

The cat bench If there is a lesson to be learned from this 46 days of retreat it is that it isn't all about me. As an artist trying to make it through trying economic times I must admit I sometimes forget that. Especially in light of shameless self promotion. The new art market is the internet and it takes more than just a website. In fact websites may be going the way of the book store these days. Along with galleries and art fairs. What is hot in this day and ethernet age is Facebook, Twitter and blogs. And an artist needs all three and Google + I am not a tweet twit though I have a twitter account and post links to my blogs routinely. Blogspot makes that very easy. And also linking to Facebook and Google +. And the marketing gurus tell you that you must be active on all platforms to catch the attention of the art buyer. This has been one of my good weeks in that regard. I have sold two photographs on gallery wrap canvas largely because of my posts on my Facebook fan pag

Mining Car by J. Binford-Bell A friend asked how I was doing on my resolution to avoid personal status messages during Lent, and instead only post links and photographs - say it in pictures instead. And I think I have slipped a bit by adding to much comment in the form of a caption from time to time. There are only 20 more days of Lent so it is downhill from here. Not being able to dash out an emotionally charged status message on Facebook or Twitter makes for more consideration of what is really important. And I have noticed how much of all that is just automatic response like a well trained rat. However, every once in a while I come upon a burning desire to share something. Like the winning of third place in a professional photography exhibit. Fortunately I was able to share that on my FanPage which I exempted from the Lenten agreement. Besides it was a professional post and not a personal one. Right. Grande Dames of Valle Vidal Artists I think have very poor boundaries

In my last blog I wrote about the Burger King trainee not having been taught how to securely put the lid on the very hot coffee, and the subsequent back floating cell phone because I was more concerned about the hot and the stains. I resolved to swear off of fast food drive throughs and most specifically Burger King for all time. In and out. Friday I drove to Raton, New Mexico on one of my periodic trips. I generally start out early after coffee and require a pit stop at some point. The outdoor johns in Cimarron Canyon State Park have been a timely favorite but they now want to charge us women $5.00 just to pee when men get to do it right beside the road. Another option is always the St. James Hotel in Cimarron but I feel every third time or so I should stop and enjoy breakfast perhaps. So the New Mexico State park is cheaper but I get no food there. Cimarron also has a visitor's center but it is never open on my way out to Raton. And as you can see by the picture above the

No, I did not hear voices. But sometimes if I we are really attentive to the moment, totally in the here and now, I believe the cosmic consciousness sends us hints about what is going to happen or directions we should take. Even science acknowledges it to some degree with a tip of the hat to synchronicity or telling us there is no such thing as coincidences. Admittedly some of the most persistent of messages can be THE UNIVERSE IS OUT TO GET YOU. Or some modification of that like BURGER KING IS OUT TO GET YOU. Yesterday as I was hitting BK for a croissant breakfast sandwich the drive through clerk was obviously in training. Note to Burger King - DO NOT PUT TRAINEES ON THE DRIVE THROUGH WINDOW. She did not put the lid on the hot coffee right and when I grabbed it I spilled coffee all over my lap, the center console of the car and paperwork sitting in the other seat. I did not exactly say please and thank you but I did not cuss when I told her what she did in my Bad Dog voice. I

Still have not found my favorite battery powered emergency light. The lights were out for three hours. No news as to what caused it. The plane crash was not until much later after the high winds kicked in. Power outages in my neck of the woods happen generally because of weather and now and again a driver that runs off the road and downs a telephone pole. Spring is one of those seasons when we are most likely to get outages because the snows are thick and heavy. But today it looks as if it is going to rain instead. In fact the air smells like spring. So to avoid stumbling around in the dark again I put the Dewalt flashlight back where it is suppose to be, and then decided to install the solar powered shed light in my living room. The needed hole to pass the charge wire through was there having been drilled by a previous cable company. So now there is a solar power mounted light on the wall just above my computer desk. No way am I taking that and putting it in the wrong place. No

So there I was drinking my second cup of coffee this morning when the lights went out. As my frequent readers know I am an early riser. And the lights going out is not a rare occurrence in winter but there was absolutely no causative weather. But it was Mercury in retrograde. Boy was it ever. I have this emergency lantern in the kitchen that is suppose to go on when the power goes out. It didn't. And I have oil lamps, candles and various flashlights. I try to keep the flashlights in the same locations so whether I am upstairs or down stairs I can quickly find a light source. It was so pitch black, however, that I all I seemed to find was the corner of tables, fur kids and their bones. I finally made it to the area near the fireplace where I know I have those propane lighters for the fire and a couple candles and two oil lamps. I need to buy more lighters. They do not want to light of late and I have placed a box of wooden safety matches near them as backup but only about on

Shadows of the Day It occurs to me that if you are a Lama on top of a mountain or a monk in a monastery someone must be in charge of the day to day aspects of life beyond chopping wood and carrying water. Today was about paying some bills, realizing that I need to get my taxes ready to go to the preparer and trying to locate all my mortgage papers, appraisals and various property papers. The latter took up so much of my time I did not get to the taxes. I thought I had all my mortgage papers in one place with other legal documentation. However, because of the lawsuit with the Contractor-from-Hell, I had pulled out various documents and forwarded it to my attorneys. I was sure they had given me back my copies at the end of the court case. And I was equally sure I had filed them back in some secure location. It was just that there could have been three or four places that made sense based on whether they went with legal documents, back in the original place, or stayed with all the

Dos Cruxes by J. Binford-Bell As I child I stuttered until the third grade and so learned to not open my mouth much. I did not speak up in class until my freshman year in college and then only if asked a direct question. I was known to get violently ill before oral book reports. I almost did not graduate college because I had not gotten up the guts to open my mouth in front of a group to give a speech. Mother, the former cub reporter for the Kansas City Star, told me I could not write or spell and was dismal at grammar. So I drew pictures and fell in love with my first Kodak Instamatic camera. After all isn't a picture worth a thousand words? And I got positive reinforcement for pictures. I might have been totally non-verbal except for Mr. Mealy in high school. He told me I could write. And that was echoed by several college teachers. And when I finally managed to deliver my first speech in that long put off college class I was immediately both enthralled and scared to dea