guerrilla love, not gorilla love

recipe for fun:

guerrilla love, spiffy driver, eccentric photographer, san francisco, splendid friends, fog and sunshine.

= success.

They met on craigslist.com. I met Judy through a temp job, which turned permanent for me, (although a myriad of circumstance and insanity caused me to leave) and we got to be friends; the best thing that happened to me there. And I'll leave it at that. Over a million lunches together, and talks about our relationships, she ended up being my bridesmaid four years ago for my wedding. And now, exactly four years later, she and Brian are blazing new trails on the nuptial front, and she asked me to take some photos pre-wedding.

Brian is quite the grassroots industrialist, with a warehouse in Oakland full of projects, and an encyclopedia of knowledge of all things mechanical, engineered, electrical or otherwise. He and my husband play chess while Judy and I do retail therapy, or jump in pools at open houses together on 110-degree days.

Judy is a painter, a crafts guru, a seamstress, and downright one of the funniest people you'll ever meet. Brian is quite the wit, too. 'Round these parts, if you don't do funny...you just don't. I mean, don't bother entering the establishment. We only take funny 'round here.

I love Brian and Judy, and know that this wedding is going to be such a fabulous celebration of all things guerrilla, gorilla, eccentric, fiery, and otherwise. Cheers!

post script...if you ever feel like getting lots of attention in San Francisco, try dressing up as a bride and groom and promenade through lots of touristy areas like North Beach, the Embarcadero...you never know what you're going to get: drunks belligerently picking you up, people in wheelchairs humming that damned wedding song, and cars honking.

the scroll

When I drive, the road is like a connect-the-dots for my thoughts. A road trip alone is merely an informal way to paint the canvases of my ideas. I took a trip "home" this weekend. Home has always and will always be Sebastopol, Sonoma County, California. I have had lots of homes, and I have planted many roots in this particular soil. My parents just moved away. Actually, dad still lingers during the week, and despite not really having the lily pad to land on anymore, I realize that the community I've built, as well as they have built, is fortress strong. I will always have people and places to visit. So, I made an impromptu sojourn to Sebastopol to visit with old friends, some who live in Europe and are home briefly during July.

The sky crossing the San Francisco Bay on the Richmond-San Rafael bridge turned dark and ominous, and actually opened into some precipitation, meanwhile the setting sun was blinding me. My mind was caught in a whirlwind of where home has gone now that my parents have moved away, after 30 years. Thirty years. That's a long time. That's most of my short life. The pavement continued to slide under me and the scenery became increasingly picturesque, taking me out of my ruminations and more focused on landscape's zen. Between Novato, and Petaluma is nothing but golden knolls, rolling towards the sky, dotted with gnarled hands of oaks and bovine grazing.

The sun had passed beyond the hills, but I noticed to the east a vibrant rainbow, with Maxfield Parish clouds. The rainbow lasted for over ten minutes, and it was as if every other driver on the road was oblivious to Life's mysterious beauty.

I had an experience similar to this when I was visiting Nepal. I had awoken suddenly at 6 a.m. in my guest house in Dhampus, near Pokhara. The Annapurna range, second in height to Everest, was apparently nearby, but in two weeks of visiting Nepal, I had not been able to even catch a glimpse of the majestic spires of granite due to it being rainy season. Yet, this particular morning, I awoke in a shuttered room in the guest house, pitch black, and for some reason, grabbed my camera and ran outside. I had barely made it out the door when I felt like I'd been hit by a stun gun. Before me was sun-splashed mountains, so breathtaking in grandeur, that I didn't even bother to check exposure, but hurried to snap some shots. No sooner had I taken a couple of frames, than the clouds had shut their curtains, the unveiling-of-the-world's-tallest-mountains show had finished its encore. And meanwhile, back at the ranch, the Nepalese were sweeping. An ordinary day.

I guess for me, the mundane is extraordinary. I did not stop my car for the rainbow. I felt compelled to keep going 70 miles an hour. Sometimes, I choose to let my mind be my camera. I realize that sometimes, painting with words, oils or watercolors instead of 35mm is warranted. Someday, I will be able to hook up a USB cable and be able to share these images trapped in my head: the monkeys in Thailand, the rainbows of Petaluma, the dancing children...until then, find them on the page, and imagine with me.

May wedding in Oregon!

My husband and I took a road trip at the end of May to photograph Angela and Brian's wedding! It was juxtaposed on the lower Rogue River, near Galice, Oregon. Gorgeous country, with fun people!