Cold Spaghetti

Paul has been wonderfully supportive of the final stages of birth on our most recent baby.  Beyond the help with meals and laundry and cleaning (because did I mention I’m teaching and doing research interviews and presenting at conferences and oh, running a nonprofit, too?) he has also been taking the kids on outings over the weekends, leaving me long 12 hour days to work uninterrupted.

On Sunday, he took the kids to the Global Wildlife Center in Folsom.  He also took these pictures of them.

Hearts?  Get ready for a beating.

I knew he wasn’t kidding when his voice cracked and his eyes looked glassy.  “No, actually, I have an anniversary present for you.”

Complete silence.

I looked directly in his eye without a hint of joking.  “Really?  You did.  You’re not kidding.”

“It’s not wrapped yet.  So, how about I give it to you now, so I don’t have to wrap it.”

Big sigh.  That sounds more like it.

—

Wanna see it?

WOW.  With special thanks to Derby Pottery and Tile for working with Paul on this one-of-a-kind, signature piece!  It is BEAUTIFUL.

(Note the inscription around the water meter cover?)

…And you Best of the Best Just Posts folks?  You’ve got Derby Pottery love coming your way… packages went out yesterday!  A preview…

Today’s Highlights:

– Weather report was horrific (thunderstorms, hail, tornadoes, damaging winds).  We went anyway.  It was windy and overcast and looked like it *might* rain for a good part of the day… but it didn’t.  Then around 4:30 the sun came out… and that was that.

– Muddy field from yesterday’s big rain = wellingtons… the best Jazz Fest attire, ever.

– Hooked up with the front row pass for part of Simon & Garfunkel… awesome!  Thanks, Chrissie, Cade & family!

– Having friends around take the whole already amazing Jazz Fest experience to a whole new level.

UPDATES:

— Jazz Fest Wellingtons, an awesome assortment, here.

— Art Garfunkel had laryngitis.  It made for a slow start to their set; things picked up with Paul Simon played a few solo (Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes, etc.)  Then, they did Bridge Over Troubled Water.  Poor Art struggled hard, and then, right around the “I’m on your side, when times get rough…” Paul walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.  They finished the song together and stood, with hands clasped, to the applause at the end.

Pictures are by Paul and me…

New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival 2010 started today — Paul and I arrived early where I joined other workers in the volunteer entrance and Paul entered with the crowd.  In between running to supply me and my fellow gelato volunteers with Jazz Fest food favorites (cochon du lait po’ boy, rosemint tea, alligator pie, etc.) he took these pictures.

Fais Do Do always has a crowd dancing.

Also, locals wear great hats to Jazz Fest.

Dr. Bob’s work on wheels.

And up close.  (That’s Comanche Indians with guests in the background… see close-ups below.)

Mardi Gras Indians.  This little fella is the Spy Boy for this tribe.

He’s singing with the elders — everyone dressed up.  The Indians work all year on their suits — traditionally they hand-make them, developing the symbols and pictures, then making each stitch by hand.

Paul tells me that several Chiefs were brought in to usher in this Jazz Fest together.  He reports that several in the crowd were choked up at the moment… they gave a great performance with some specialized lyrics.

Gospel Tent.  Always where it’s at.

Little Freddie King.

Dudes with fire.

I’ll get a picture of the beautiful La Divina booth to post next time.  Until then, we’ll have to stick with the goods.

The gelato I was helping sell at the Fest… I recommend getting it affogado; which is gelato served with espresso poured over it.

Renee, desperate to get out to hear some music, suiting up in trash bags…

… because just before 2pm, the skies opened up.

We have a babysitting share tomorrow with plans to lay out in the sun in front of Acura Stage, watching the acts and waiting for Simon and Garfunkel.  Unfortunately… the weather is not looking good.  “Thunderstorms, damaging wind, hail, and tornadoes.”  Rain gear, anyone?

Taken seconds before the tower is destroyed when they try to see who can sit on the others head and pass gas first.

Remember the Star Wars Lego mural?

Paul found some software to pixelate images into LEGO colors.  He hacked it up a bit and we played around with photographs and priced out bricks and just generally threw around ideas until late last summer… when Will broke his arm and I painted Luke’s X-wing on Will’s cast. It was clear that having something BIG and STAR WARS would be cool in The Little Man’s room, so Paul decided to tackle the original Star Wars poster. In LEGO. 

All four of us worked on it (yes, Kate, too!) during Saints games. Note to prospective LEGO-mural builders: images with lots of one color (e.g.: black) are excellent for pint-sized helpers. Also, black and white 1×1 bricks are among the cheapest bricks and can be found in bulk.

We finished it awhile back.  And after it sat in boxes for another month or so, we finally decided on how to hang it and got it up on the wall.

Because of the size and weight, we were not thrilled with the idea of permanently adhering it to a board, or putting it within a frame.

Instead, Paul used velcro along a melamine board and then adhered velcro to the back of the base plates.   Once the melamine board was hung on the wall, he began adhering the base plates piece-by-piece, starting at the center.

With 20 10-inch base plates, the entire mural is 40-inches wide and 50-inches high.   There are more than 20,000 1×1 bricks.

While the software provided a pixelated image to work from, we still ended up doing some artistic tweaking. The biggest changes came to Luke and Leia. Flesh tones are difficult in LEGO. Particularly when paired with figures wearing light-colored clothing. We played with an assortment of white, off-white, tan (dark and light) and oranges to get the final picture. Paul bought extra in these colors to accommodate the changes we ended up making.

Here is the final result:

Cool AND geeky.

Beautiful double rainbow, this afternoon, from our house to yours!

Merry, Merry!

Picture-portraits have been a key part of our holidays for the past few years.  Specifically, I take holiday portraits for families as a fundraiser for our beloved preschool.  There is always a little craziness around it — what is the best way to give families the most options of photographs, what to charge that makes enough money for the school to be worthwhile without being out of reach, how to minimize the amount of one-on-one coordination and money collecting, and so on.  This year, I think we struck gold in the set-up: weekend portraits scheduled in back-to-back 15-20 minute time slots over a few hours.  Families come, sit, have pictures made, and leave.  For a set fee, I send out one favorite JPG with all the bells and whistles of color enhancing, teeth whitening and booger removal.  The money goes right to the school, and each family gets a photo for their holiday cards.

Sounds simple, right?

Right, except that *I* am involved… and nothing I do is ever simple.  Part of the problem is me, myself.  I live to please and I love to photograph… a dangerous combination.

And then there is the insecurity around my inability to guarrantee THAT photograph.

You know what I’m talking about.  THAT photograph is the one every family wants.  It’s the one that you want.  It’s the one that I want.  The one where you and all your kin sit around looking lovely.  Everyone is looking into the camera.  Everyone is smiling their nicest, brightest smile.  It’s PERFECT, THAT photograph.  Eerily… perfect.

It’s not that it is always impossible.  THAT picture is much more likely once all kids are older and sort of get that it is in their best interest to look their bright and shiny best for photographs.

But when they are little?

It is even a realistic expectation?  And further, should it be?

Yeah, I can get that adorable little child to smile for a fraction of a second and be ready to capture it with my shutter… but I’ll promise you dollars to donuts that Mom or Dad or Sister Sue is talking, waving a hand, or closing their eyes at exactly the same time.  And we can fire photograph after photograph all day, but the bottom line is that kids can’t handle more than 10, maybe 15 minutes of posed portraits before they explode.  Literally, explode, right their in their parents laps.

The bottom line is that every moment of being a parent of a small child means, well, parenting that small child.  And the camera captures reality.  Not some eerily perfect moment with everyone doing exactly the same thing and looking in exactly the same direction and smiling their exactly the same perfect smiles in their perfectly beautiful matching outfits.  It sure looks pretty.  But our eyes know what families look like.  They are crazy and wonderful — arranging, calling, clapping, laughing, encouraging — all to make one moment of stillness and calm.   If it works and we see THAT picture, we know that there is something a little… surprising about it.  We wonder, How did they do that? How did they get that picture?  It looks pretty, but… what story does it tell?  And is the story it tells an authentic one?

I’m not sure it is.  Authentic.  How can it be when it comes from my shouting, LALALALALALALALA look heeeerrrrrrrrreeee babbbeeeeeee!  — MOM, EYES UP, DAD, DON’T TALK — LALALALALALA baaaaaabbbbbbeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!  And if I’m really lucky, this is combined with Paul in the background jumping up shouting PEAK A BOO from behind me.

All this, to get THAT photo.  It’s no wonder it looks eerie.

But still.  I work and work and work for THAT picture and beat myself up when it doesn’t happen.  I mean I really feel guilty.  I feel like it should be something I can do at will — that it should just HAPPEN.  I have the stuff… the toys in the bag, the comb and tissue and wet ones.  I have an eye to see when things are off and can fix them.  But still… I manage to capture reality.  I can’t seem to create that fleeting moment of eerie wonder that everyone wants.

And then?  I feel like I’ve let someone down.

Even with photographs of my own family.  Just look.

But.  Maybe.  Just Maybe…

… this is better?  Cheesy, yes, but gives a bit more personality…?

I mean, compared to this?

Don’t my children look miserable?  I mean, honestly, how can we expect them to SIT for FIVE SECONDS?  It’s no use bribing.

That look below is suppose to be Will’s nice smile.  I will find a way to make him pay for this during his teenage years.  And where is Kate?  Also, might I consider getting a hair cut and touching up highlights more often than every 8 months?

Can you tell I’m running back and forth setting the timer on the camera?  (A remote trigger would be a nice touch, Santa.  Ahem.)

So, maybe, instead, we should stick to this?

It’s messier than the posed family shot, sure.  Personality over perfection.  Maybe I’ll feel better if I lead with my strengths?

——-

With that, if I were to photograph you and your family — what would you want?  What do you look for in a photographer?  What kinds of photographs do you want after a sitting?  What do you expect to pay and what kind of flexibility do you want?  Is there such a thing as a good holiday photo that isn’t “perfect”?