i heart faces photo challenge|hugs and kisses

This picture was taken this last weekend at our local park. My son and his wife were going out on their date night so I took the opportunity to get a few shots of their little family.

I love how they love on this little guy and how willing they are to share him with me. And we're so excited that they'll be adding a girl to their family in just a few months.

This photo was submitted to the I Heart Faces photo challenge – www.iheartfaces.com

My Story in My 2nd Face

I'm introverted, unsure, lacking in self-confidence. I'm overweight (not big boned as my mom would often tell me). The pimples, glasses and braces didn't do much to help with my self-esteem either. Looking back I see that I wasn't alone in feeling like a social outcast, but at the time I felt like the only awkward, geeky girl.

By this time I moved 9 times, lived in three different states and three different countries, if you count Puerto Rico as a country. My freshman and sophomore year, we lived in Esfahan, Iran. The first month there I cried almost every day, but I came to love the land and most of the people and I cried like a baby the day we left. The political climate there was such that I knew the likelihood of me ever going back would be very, very slim.

The older I got the harder it was for me to fit in. I had no idea how to control my curly mane and I was horribly shy so I ate for comfort, gaining weight and pimples as my reward. If not for our extended family or my first job, I probably would have been in more despair. In Iran I had countless friends, in California, I could count them in one hand. If I had tried a little more, gotten a little more involved, I know now that would have changed. Luckily for me I was about to leave my teen years behind.

My Story - In Six Faces

I stole this idea from a story in the Parade magazine in today's Sunday paper. The author started her article with a quote from George Orwell:

"At age 50, everyone has the face he deserves."

Is that so? I wish I knew that long ago, perhaps I would have done things differently...like not spend so much time basking out in the sun, ignoring all the experts who were telling us that this would cause skin damage. Or pouting about things that were or weren't not to come.

But at least I stayed away from drugs, cigarettes and alcohol because all in all I think my face at this point in my life isn't quite so bad, even if there are times I'm a bit shocked when I glance in the mirror. I'm not as young looking as I think I am.

Instead of being limited to a one page article, I'll tell my story in six days. A story a day, a story a decade.

I'm in Kindergarten, still in my (forgive me) cute stage. The little Debbie of my family, little Debbie Doo to my grandfather. Beyond excited to follow in my sister's footsteps and begin my career in school. I still have a face that strangers love to smile at, cheeks that family members love to pinch and kiss. From what my mom says, I still have a baby voice with baby speak until I start school and I realize that my classmates aren't as likely to coo over the way I say words such as three (tree) and I quickly drop the act. What this doesn't show is that already I have learned to keep secrets, having been molested by an older cousin. And so begins the life of me. My first decade, full of love, family, ups and downs.

The Streets of Austin

Things I want to remember about my trip to Austin.

The little pizza place I ate at the first night I was there. It looked interesting and smelled so good when I first walked in. It was delish.

How incredibly invigorated I felt in the morning when I walked from my hotel to the office. There as a nip in the air, but it just made me feel more alive. It felt good to start the morning with some exercise. 

The joy I felt to realize that the Starbucks I found near the office was also near the Capitol. For some explicable reason it pleased me immensely.

The way the barren trees looked against the brick facades, the sky, the Capitol. I couldn't get enough of them.

The wackiness of 6th Street.

The guitars of Austin.

The daringness I felt at taking pictures regardless of who was around and what they thought.

My walks to and from the office always took a little longer because I was constantly stopping to take pictures.

The lovely church that I passed to and/or from my way to the hotel/office every day.

The funny things I found along the way. Things I would have missed if I had rented a car or asked someone to pick me up. (Whoever you are that put that there, you made my day!)

The fact that my Starbucks app never, ever lets me down.

The Problem with Pictures

Last week while in Austin, as I walked around downtown after work, I was struck not only by the sights of my surrounding, but the sounds and even the smell of the city. I remember wishing there was a way I could bottle it all up.

















The problem with pictures is that it only records the sights we see. Lost are the sounds and the smells which probably probe those deeper parts of our memories. On this night I ventured out to the infamous 6th Street. The night was cool, but the sounds of music blared out from the open doors as I passed bar after bar. There were also street musicians adding to the cacophony that reached my ears. As beautiful as this picture is, it doesn't convey any of the other sensory perceptions I experienced as I walked up the street.

10 on Tuesday

1. Time to get back on the saddle. I was in Austin last week and blogging from the iPad isn't really my cup of tea. It was a good, good trip for many, many reasons.
2. I meant to blog over the weekend, but I was still catching up from my trip and blogging is like exercise, once you stop it's hard to get started again.
3. I also meant to decorate the house for Valentine's Day which didn't happen. Well, Valentine's Day did happen, but the decorating...not so much!
4. Looks like the little groundhog was right. Middle of February and it was downright cold today. It was also sunny with blue, blue skies. I was happy from the get-go.
5. It's the first Valentine's Day in the longest time that I didn't go to dinner with mom and at least one of my children. I ended up a Panera's all by my lonesome. 15 years ago, I would have been having a pity party, but I'm much older and wiser now. I was good company.
6. The emails and text messages I got earlier in the day helped. I have a lot of people I love and a lot of people who love me. 
7. A tripod is high on my list of things I want to get for myself. Been trying to stave off that feeling that I have to go get one NOW. 
8. Still struggling with ways to serve God. Really praying to find my mission and serve God more faithfully (hence holding off on the tripod)
9. Found the cutest little pink polka dotted blanket for baby girl Medina. She can't come soon enough!
10. Made sugar cookies last night with a new recipe for frosting. I was a bit nervous about changing. Brie wasn't too impressed because the frosting was more of a buttercream which she isn't too fond of, but I was rather pleased with the results. These were dedicated to the ones I love...

Photo Heart Connection|January

I can't remember how I stumbled upon Kat Sloma's blog. I'm pretty sure it was when she had a Shutter Sister guest post. What she wrote about photography spoke to my heart. I started off wanting to take good, if not great, pictures of my children and those I loved and it's morphed into more than that.

It used to be that if a picture didn't have a face in it, it was hard to for me to really relate to it. As my children grew older, I found that I was forced to take pictures of inanimate objects. This has stretched me in ways I would not have thought possible.

I find myself being more aware of my surroundings, how the light touches things and how a single object can come to life just by being at a certain angle or at a certain place at a certain time. So when we were challenged to select just one photo that we touched in January for which we had our strongest connection, I wasn't surprised that it wasn't one with my children because the truth is my connection is with them, living...breathing...the warm of their touch...the sound of their voice. No matter how perfect a picture I take of them and no matter how much I smile when I see one that brings a flood of memory, it can't compare to the real living, breathing them.

So my choice, the one that speaks to my heart, is one that was taken on a perfect January day. It started off overcast and dreary and somehow the clouds broke sparking a drive to Old Orange where I took this picture. It wasn't until I got home and began editing the photo that I made my connection. There is something about the beautiful, rugged brick facade contrasted against the blue that drew me in. I added some texture to give it a bit of a dirty look because life is messy sometimes.

Then I see the warning sign...do not enter. But I just might enter anyway because sometimes we need to heed the warning, but we need to understand if there is really danger up ahead or if it's our own reservations holding us back.