Playgrounds are closed…

The playgrounds are closed. The schools are empty. 
Caution tape is draped around steel cages as chain-linked seats swing empty, moving inches in windswept schoolyards devoid of laughter, silent.
No feet are tromping across the green field grass, kicking up dirt and dust as soccer balls scoot towards white-netted goals.
Basketball hoops have all lost their chains, no dribbling, taunting, or swishing of nets. 
The playgrounds are empty and we are home.
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#WFH ⁣

“behind the curtain of created realities”⁣

I spend time in photoshop manipulating and placing photos for Woodshed’s website on a semi-regular basis. This is my setup, the tools of the trade per se, taking something shot with lights and a white box, cutting out the products and placing them in other shots or on websites to help convince someone to buy more tea, coffee, or swag. ⁣

#7Lenses #melancholia

We hide our faces

We drive with masks over our faces, eyes wide with suspicion. Hands at 10 and 2. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ We hide our faces, our coffee-stained teeth, and crooked incisors. We hide our humanity found in our smiles, frowns, and mehs. We do this for reasons unknown… polarizing opinions from either side whose faces aren’t covered, snarling and spitting opinions over zoom calls in mansions and million-dollar apartments with doormen. But I shouldn’t be complaining… I have running water, a car with gasoline, and two pairs of glasses. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ We hide our faces looking to see if the other car is going at the 4-way stop sign. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ We wave them on, giving them the right-of-way. We are in no hurry, as there is no place to go… but home. ⁣ ⁣

Week 2 – Melancholia Universalis

Under this theme would come photography acknowledging how much we have to be sad about, helping to reduce our anger at the frequent disappointment of reality. Photos will show that we have not been damned, we are simply experiencing part of the accidents and sorrows that come with being alive. Not to be reduced to a “Negative Nancy” or a “Debbie Downer” position, rather these artistic responses should push against blind optimism and feigned perfection our filtered photos on social media might try to convey.

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Other Stories of Brokenness

We found this lemur hidden between the rock it’s sitting on and the bluebonnets. It was hidden, dirty, wet, and sad. Somewhere a small broken heart misses this lemur. We set her up, sitting, waiting. But it’s been days now and she still sits, waiting, as the storms start rolling through.

I tend to like more photos that I make for a theme that I typically share. While quarantined I’m changing that. These are my other images of brokenness. More inside.

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Don’t Let The Door Shut

Often times, in my life, brokenness is equated to failure. Is that the reality? Whenever brokenness comes is it due to a failure? Maybe… but it seems as the globe continues to rotate that brokenness is just that. It’s brokenness. Some of us experience in “heavier” ways, but we all have the experience in some form. What will I do with my brokenness? Pivot? Crumble? Learn? Destruct? All of the above? The hope, as terrible as it is, would be to sit in it. Feel it. Experience it. Don’t let the door shut until it is felt. At least that’s what I tell myself…

Quarantine Edition

After a 4 year hiatus, we are back with the 7Lenses – Quarantine Edition. From April 6 – May 25, 2020, we’ll post a photo challenge on this blog every Monday followed by the posting of our photographic interpretations of this theme throughout the week with a Sunday deadline. You can follow along here or join us in the challenge by posting with us on Instagram using the hashtag: #7Lenses. For this 8-week edition, we’ll follow the School of Life’s 8 Consoling Virtues as the guide for each of the challenges.

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for my girls.

grey brown green and blue
they look up to me
and cherish you.

every morning
giggles tears or screams
stir from another room.

no rooster needed
a cock-a-doodle-do
would do no good.

the day begins
you lead these faces
to far off places.

with books
and new adventures.

nap time brings reprieve
two hours of selfless cleaning
a reward for your help less leading.

when I get home
it’s half past six
work is long and arduous.

you are here
balancing the world
juggling our four girls.


i shed all malcontent
when i see my girls
eyes so full of wonder.