Western Homestead
23.5.07
21.5.07
Tree as Closet or Container ...
Wild West Highway Memory Tree, originally uploaded by MontanaRaven.
We passed this tree on our way through Central Oregon and Tim, knowing how much I love photographing these kinds of scenes, kindly turned the car around, then woke me up with this surprise. (he's starting to get it, that we cannot go on a trip -- anywhere -- without at least a few photo-stops along the way.)
The tree has been dead for a long time. The shoes hanging in it's bone-white branches are a poignant reminder -- rememory -- of people who died in car accidents over the years ... along this narrow two lane highway. The twisting road dips into treacherous blind spots through rolling palouse prairie and dryland farm fields.
There are women's heeled boots, athletic shoes, dance shoes, work shoes, farm boots and child's keds. Even a small pair of baby high-tops ... the shoes bear the imprints, the stories and bendings of their owners' lives. Some shoe pairs are worn-out and ragged while others are barely used, almost new.
I am reminded of our humanity, of our individuality and our connection to each other, to all of creation. I am reminded of how the death of one of us affects so many, of how a loved one can be taken from us in an instant ... whether we have loved that one for a few months or a lifetime.
Here are a few more pics of shoe trees:
and a few more recent tree images. It's worth clicking on the slideshow below to see the larger images:
3.5.07
Figure with Shadows and Dust
"As this light is known, but no one knows what it is, there is no true name to give it. It is opaque light, very alive, moving, overpowering, and sparkling like a juicy apple when you bite deep. It flowed down past the windows and I stood naked, barely able to endure the marvel."
--Florida Scott-Maxwell, from The Measure of My Days
looks way cool large on a black background: 'Figure with Shadows and Dust' On Black
30.4.07
29.4.07
28.4.07
26.4.07
Landscape with Storm and Glints of Light (Sheep are a Bonus)
Copyright by Maureen Shaughnessy
Caught the last bit of light on the backs of these sheep as a storm was moving in just before nightfall. Rough shearing doesn't bother these ewes. Some ranchers shear the sheep just before lambing, partly to encourage them to come in to birth their lambs.
I love the details at this larger version on a black background:
Landscape with Storm and Glints of Light
25.4.07
24.4.07
20.4.07
12.4.07
Parents with Unexpected Egg
A friend on Flickr, Liz (aka Eshu) made an offer to send a folded paper crane to anyone who would in turn take a photo of the crane when it arrived by mail. She has a Flickr group called Paper Crane Project.
I have been watching as other photographers photographed their cranes around the house, out in the garden, on their heads, in their hands -- and submitted them to the group collection. I wondered when our cranes would arrive. It was like waiting for something to be born.
The birds arrived today. I'm having fun with them -- they have sparkled a waterfall of creative thought for me today, pulled me out of the doldrums and engendered philosophical questioning. I'm sure the birds will continue their antics in the coming days.
Liz sent two cranes, one for me, one for Tim. I went for the orange bird. Orange - the color of Buddha's smile. The color of Grandfather Fire. The color of energy. The color of harvest, of deep sunlight, of life, energy, Qi ... that one jumped out and fluttered into my heart as soon as I opened the envelope.
Please go loook at some of the other beautiful photos of Liz's cranes at the Paper Crane Project. -- it's going to be even better as more and more people receive their cranes and share what the birds are doing once out of the package!
9.4.07
Thinking has a quiet skin ...
Thinking has a quiet skin
but I feel the break and fled of things inside it.
-- excerpt from Captivity by Laurie Sheck (Feb. 2007, Knopf)
Much, much better this way
1.4.07
Life Force: Koi Qi
We are the miracle of force and matter making itself over into imagination and will. Incredible. The Life Force experimenting with forms. You for one. Me for another. The Universe has shouted itself alive. We are one of the shouts.... and as much as we are one of the shouts, so too are the fish, the bear, the hawk, the mountain, the stream and light. These pieces are part of a series I am working on, about Life Force. You can see others here and here.
-- Ray Bradbury
If you like these, please check back to see others I will post as I complete them. Thank you for looking.
29.3.07
Paint Chips/ Nature Chips
I wrote a longer post over at my design/wordplay blog, Raven's Nest -- am just posting a few of the "slices" here to entice my photoblog viewers to head over to Raven's Nest and read that post.
The above Nature Chips are a few selected pieces of a larger palette of interior design idea slices you can see here.
16.3.07
Party Animal
Happy Birthday to Sam who is 18 years old this year... You're all invted to party with us! We have lots of drool, cake, tail wagging and general all-round fun going on. Head over to the virtual party at Flickr or check out the longer blog post at Raven's Nest.
Party Hat directions are here.
13.3.07
8:00 am . 40 degrees Farenheit . March 13 .
My morning view as I wash up the breakfast dishes. We have never owned a dishwasher. I actually like washing dishes ... call me weird.
Still Life with Dental Impression & Wishbone
Our kitchen windowsill changes depending on the season Or on whether I feel like cleaning up or not (more often not.)
I just dusted.
Dusting is a really strange human activity ... in our particular case, household dusting (which I do about twice a year) is one of those thankless tasks that is never really completed. I use a feather poof to chase the dust from the highest surfaces down, watching the minute particles float and dance in a shaft of sunlight. Then I sweep or vacumn (i.e. stirring up dust) brush my hands off and pretend the house is cleaner.
The light-as-breath soup known as household dust is mainly composed of skin cells, dog and cat dandruff, all kinds of stuff from the atmosphere, actual dirt, mold spores, tiny mites and other flora and fauna better left unmentioned. We have alot of soft, floaty black dog hair in our house, too.
Mites, you say? Ugh! Well, get used to it -- dust mites live on just about every surface in a typical house, especially in mattresses, pillows, carpets and upholstered furniture. There are even some kinds of dust mites that live suspended in the air. These tiny boogers eat other dust particles and their poop becomes yet another ingredient of household dust. the ones that live in your pillows are eating your dead skin cells. (Ah, the succulence! the delicacy!) Yuck! It's almost enough to make me want to hold my breath when I'm dusting. Or maybe I should borrow a face mask from Tim's woodworking shop.
Oh yeah -- Tim brings plenty of dust home from his shop. But I'll save that rant for another time. Sweet dreams tonight! :-D
btw, if you want to see something really cool, check out this website with hundreds of photos of DUST
2.3.07
28.2.07
How to Age Gracefully
How to Age Gracefully
~ ~ ~
keep smelling, stay
interested in all the
messages that come alive
like signs,
there are sighs and songs
in every blade of grass and
shift of wind
keep moving, even
if only your eyes
look everywhere,
there is beauty and
movement to watch
like leaves that lift
and fly like birds
~ ~ ~
Maureen Shaughnessy
22.2.07
19.2.07
Ancestor
This is my great grandmother on my father's side of the family. Her name is Alice Dunnigan Shaughnessy. She was around 19 in this photo -- photo was taken in approximately 1886.
The collage is made with 8 separate images in Photoshop. For those who have asked me how I make these collages, I will be publishing a separate page with the original images and a short narrative about (in general) my methods. Check back for a link from this post to that page in the next week or two.
16.2.07
14.2.07
Happy Valentine's Day
I will share this post with e.e.cummings, whose love poetry always seems fresh and relevant: here is an excerpt from his poem, "somewhere I have traveled gladly beyond"
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
Happy Valentine's Day to each of you. May you always find the love that lives inside your own heart.
13.2.07
12.2.07
RaceToTheSky
I fell in love with this dog. She was a classic beauty -- so graceful, elegant, coy yet fully engaged with me and not afraid to look directly at me. I am putting together a collaborative photo essay with my friend, Chris Lombardi, who works at NewWest Network in Missoula. Our photo essay is about the mushers and dogs who run the annual sled race in Montana, Race to the Sky.
Please check back for updates on the essay (it will be published next week) and for more photos and stories about the dogs and the race here on my blog. Thanks for looking.
If you can't wait, you can see more photos in the flickr set about the race, by clicking on any of the photos in the sidebar. Enjoy!
9.2.07
1.2.07
Poetry Thursday: Winter Light with Lilac
Waiting
Curled in a warm cocoon,
protected
from the splintering cold
and brittle light outside
I hear a high pitched pulse,
hurled snow crystals, glass
shattered
against glass, enlivened by the play
of light and dancing dark
measured
against the rhythm of lilac branches
in their patient sleep straining
toward light or shadowed tracery.
I hear the winter-weakened sun
roll across a shortened sky,
silence fractured
by icicles clinking like chimes
cast on the frozen ground.
Copyright 2007 by Maureen Shaughnessy
See the 6 photos I used to create this composite.
Though I did not follow the prompt for this week, this post is for Poetry Thursday, begun by poets, Liz and Dana. Click on their names to see their blogs, or check out the other poetry posts for this week by clicking this button:
Here's the prompt for this week's poems: Poetry Thursday: proof positive
Lap Trance
There are two kinds of cats. Those who won't let you rub their bellies ... and those who love their bellys rubbed. Baggins is the second kind of cat: "Ohhhh, that just feels sooooo good. don't stop. don't stop now ..."
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