At Last

Since my nephew, Brie and I headed for a photo walk last year roaming the streets of downtown LA, I've wanted to go back and shoot at Union Station. There was always one excuse or another.

On Friday, I told myself that no matter what, I was going to go on Saturday. Friday had been a good day. Only a very minor touch of nausea in the morning and I had more energy than I had hoped for. I felt ready to make the commitment.

On Saturday, I awoke, still feeling good. I had a brunch date with my bestie and her daughter, but that would in no way prevent me from making good on my promise to myself. When I got back from lunch, I passed out on my recliner, suddenly exhausted from staying up too late the night before and getting up early in the morning. I told myself this was in no way going to stop me from making good on my promise to myself. I would sleep until 3pm, okay, maybe 4pm and then head out.

I almost reneged on my promise, but I sensed it was now or never. Time to move. Time to stop making excuses. I dragged my sorry little body off my recliner, grabbed my keys and kissed Brie goodbye. I almost decided to turn around. I fought with myself the whole way there.

The moment I arrived, I was struck by the light. The glorious light.

It was just as I hoped it would be. I wandered the station taking pictures, at times boldly standing in the center of the walkways lining up my shots, at other times, trying to inconspicuously take pictures of an interesting character.

After a while, I decided to take advantage of the energy I felt and head across the street to Olvera Street for some more photos. I would have stayed longer, but I felt my leg start aching and decided that I should leave before I got too tired. I'm glad I listened to myself. The rest of the night, my leg ached, but it was well worth it.

As I reviewed my photos and critiqued the results, overall I was satisfied. I went, I shot and while I didn't conquer, I did learn. Next time, I want to move slower. I always move too quickly. I need to worry less about what others think and take my time. Wait for the right shot. Be still. Be patient.

It makes me excited to go back and try again.

Into the Light

She walked into my room in the early evening to tell me hello. I was tired out from my day at work, resting in bed. As she walked across the floor, her face caught the light. I hadn't realized how beautiful it was, streaming in from the open curtains of my window. It was almost as beautiful as her.

When they both met at a certain point, she looked ethereal, her face glowing in the light. She could tell by the look on my face something was up. The light, I exclaimed, begging her to let me take her picture. She was tired, she protested. I didn't wait, I sprung from my bed, thankful my camera was in my room. Please, I begged her.

If she knew how beautiful she looked bathed in the golden sunlight, she would have let me take a thousand pictures. She only half-willingly obliged. I couldn't get her to turn in the direction I wanted. I couldn't get her to take the steps so the sunlight hit her at just the right place.

I didn't get the shot I had hoped for, but I will always remember how beautiful she was anyway.

This is My Life

Day 3 of cycle three was supposed to be a three hour infusion. On top of my 1/2 hour drip of Gemzar, it was time for Aredia which is another 2/12 hours on the chair. No biggie, I had a boatload of work, free internet and my laptop by my side. I was not expecting to have to have a blood transfusion. Two bags of blood = 3-1/2 more hours in the infusion chair.

As it happens every time when I go to the medical center. I go through a series of highs and lows. Thankful I'm still here. Thankful I can still walk. Thankful for my insurance. Thankful for the blessing I've had since this all begun.

In disbelief still that this has happened. That I can't walk the way I used to. That I think about living and dying every day. That my life has come to this, a series of blood tests, doctor appointments, infusions. That I am living with cancer.

Even after 4 years, sometimes it's hard to comprehend that this is my life.

Time to Get to It

Words and themes are coming at me, like a perfect storm that can’t be ignored. Even yesterday morning, both the devotional study I’m doing and the book I’m reading, The War of Art used the words, “delay gratification” with both explaining the words practically the same. 

Last year I documented my dreams thinking that in doing so, it would make things magically happen. What I forgot was that work was involved. True, there is something powerful in writing things down, but that’s just the start. Starting is the easy part. It’s the finishing that so many of us fail at. Sometimes I feel like an expert at that part.

Billy Sunday said it best, “More men fail through lack of purpose than lack of talent.”

Most of my life I've wanted to create. From the time I was in third grade I wanted to be a writer. In the years of my angst, I aspired to be a poet. In my thirties, my creative aspirations were fulfilled by crafting. In the past five years, photography has become my outlet. Yet, still the desire to write has never escaped my dreams. 

After I was diagnosed with cancer, I read numerous accounts of woman who said that a byproduct of their cancer was a flood of creativity. For the first several years, I felt cheated because nothing came. Last year I felt the door was opening. My photography was coming together. I was finally writing again, albeit nothing of major importance, but I knew it was coming. 

And just like that it got derailed. My setback just didn’t affect my health, it affected my creativity. Now that I’m doing better, I want to do more than dream. I need to do more than dream. 

I need to work at art, even if it’s just for me. Time to get to it.

Venice at Night

Most fanatics with a camera have dreams about exploring Venice at night. It's the reason why I packed my tripod in my suitcase. Happily I used it in Florence and Tuscany, but that was just a warm up for Venice.

By the time we finished our gondola ride, the sun was beginning to fall. The girls were ready to go back to our hotel, enjoy the cool air conditioning and free wifi. As I packed up my camera, adhering it tightly to my tripod, my excitement grew. Liz talked about possibly going with me.

I paused, I felt bad about it, but I just wanted to make things clear. It was okay if she came, but I wasn't going to stop for window shopping or sightseeing. I wanted to explore. With my camera. And be selfish about it. It was to be the only night we would be in Venice. I wanted to roam the streets and stop when I felt like stopping, move when I felt like moving. I know that sounds selfish, because it is.

If we were going to be there for two or three nights, I would hope that I would have been willing to share. Instead I headed out by myself for an adventure of a lifetime.

I had no idea where I was going. That was the beauty of it all. I wandered over cobblestones, through alleyways, across foot bridges, stopping when I felt like it, moving on when I felt like it. The sky slowly got darker, but I never felt afraid. Sometimes the streets were empty, sometimes I would come across another person or two, but I never felt afraid.

At last I turned to go back to our little courtyard, when I somehow stumbled across what appeared to be the docking place for many of the gondolas that glided across the canals. I stopped to take some pictures, soaking in the moment. There was the lapping of the water against the edge of the canal, the low laughter of a few of the gondoliers no doubt sharing some tale of the day and the gentle breeze that wafted through the air.

Continuing on in the general direction of our hotel, I did what I read every tourist should do in Venice...get lost. If it weren't for the fact that it was late by this time and I didn't want the girls and Liz to get worried, I probably would have roamed the streets even more forgetting that I was lost. Added to this, was the fact that I was getting tired. I finally resorted to asking several shopkeepers for help.

Even with the fact that most of the shopkeepers spoke English, it was still hard to follow directions. There is a lot of waving of the hands and the alley ways are so crooked it's hard to know if the block is ended and that's where you turn right or left or if you should continue for a few more steps before making the turn.

Staying calm helped a lot as did having landmarks to refer to. After thirty minutes of confusion, I finally came upon a familiar place and was able to make my way back to the hotel from there. By the time I lay my head upon the pillow, I was ready to call it a night, excited about what the next day may bring.

Going Gondolas

We managed to make our way easily back from the Piazza San Marco to our hotel at the Campo de la Fava. How, I don't know. But I was thankful that we did. I was also thankful that our room was ready upon our return.

The girls were delighted with our accommodations. I thought I had booked a room with two queen beds. Instead, we had a one bedroom suite with a living room, dining room table, full on kitchen and laundry facilities to boot. But the nicest feature of all was the air conditioning which was already doing its duty. It was simple, but clean...and mosquito free.

After we rested, we decided it was time to find us a gondola. Sure it was cheesy thing to do, but this was Venice and sometimes you just have to be a full fledge tourist. As we were crossing over a foot bridge, a gondola was coming in for a landing. The family getting out were exclaiming about what a great ride it was, so we asked the gondolier if he would be willing to take us around the canals.

The ride started off as we expected. I had Dean Martin's "That's Amore" on my iPhone and started playing the song. The gondolier was telling us about some of the surroundings when he received a call on his cellphone. It was to be the first of several long phone calls in a row our gondolier took. In between calls, he apologized, telling us that he had to take the calls because they were from his best friend, his mother and then his wife. Apparently, they don't have no talking on the cellphone while steering a gondola law.

By this time we had pretty much written him off, not that we cared a great deal. After all, we were on a gondola in Venice with Dean Martin crooning to us over my iPhone.

Experiencing Venice from the viewpoint of a gondola is truly different.

It's something that must be done at least once. It was worth every euro we spent.

Exploring Venice

Free of our luggage, we were ready to explore Venice with the first order of business...get lunch. Following the advise of our sweet hotel receptionist, we walked over the bridge at the Campo de la Fava and found ourselves in a little alley way with a sign several shops down which read "The Mamo".

Like everything else we had seen at Venice so far, it was a tightly squeezed, but we were welcomed right away to a little table for four. We could tell the waiters were smitten with the girls. It was a rather funny scene, as three waiters came to the table talking to the girls, asking them their names while never giving Liz and me another glance.

Turned out the meal was a good as the service. It was without a doubt, the best meal that I had the whole trip.

The girls had fun with the attention, asking the waiter why pizza isn't sliced in Italy like it is in the states. The waiter didn't have a good answer, but he showed them how to properly slice their pizza.

After our tummies were full and satisfied, we followed the signs to the Piazza San Marcos. Passing scores of shops along narrow streets among scores of tourists, we came to an opening which led to the Piazza. On this side of Venice there was space.

There was still throngs of tourists, but gone were the narrow streets.

After having been cooped up in the car and then twisting and turning amongst the crowds in the narrow passageways, this was a refreshing change. We wandered around the area checking out souvenir stands, snapping pictures, simply enjoying ourselves.

I saw a little alleyway with lovely light so I talked the girls into going down the way and back again so I could take some pictures.

After roaming about for a while, it was time for gelato and to head back to see if our room was ready. We were feeling sticky and tired.