Meri's Musings

The new issue of Platform58 is now viewable online . This is the image of mine that they ultimately chose. It's the second photo I've had published. My name's right there, in the table of contents (page 41). I'm a little excited. The issue's theme is Cities. p.s. I just found out I'll also have a photo in the next issue, Platform58, Volume 10 on the theme Lights.

Lest you think the whole weekend of legal seminars was a total bore, let me assure you that lawyers can be wild and crazy. But not me. I'd had two Margaritas at the Applewood Grill where we went for dinner, at least I think that was the name of the place, but I'm not sure especially since I consumed my year's ration of alcohol in one sitting. So at the hotel bar, I sipped a ladylike Diet Coke (pictured in the foreground with the straws looking psychedelic under the black light above our table) and got out the camera. I started out using the flash so the dancers were illuminated (like Michele & Kim & Kara & Jeanine) but if you're on the dance floor it's annoying to have a flash going off from the sidelines, so I started taking hand-held shots using a "sunset" setting and no flash. The results were colorful and blurry and really pretty interesting (or maybe it was the Margaritas that made them seem interesting). This is one of the early hand-h

Oh dear. I thought I had programmed things to print while I was a way for a family law seminar, but somehow I missed a post for yesterday. So suffice to say, like the bear I went over the mountain to see what I could see on what we Western Washingtonians call The Dry Side. Dry. Like this. Friday, Saturday and Sunday during the day, I sat and listened to lectures on domestic partnerships, case law updates, managing a law practice in tough times, and other (uh. . .) scintillating topics. But in the evening. . . well there was time for a little fun and checking out touristy things, like the faux-Bavarian village of Leavenworth. It's surrounded by mountains, like a village in the Alps. And I'll try to post twice today to make up for the glitch yesterday.

Haven't done a color theme post for a while. But orange keeps cropping up in my recent photos. Maybe because it seems like a summery color and it's summer here. Sweet, messy, fragrant oranges. Orange Monarch tulips, now only a memory, but worth planting for next year. The sheen of glass. An armful of marigolds. Who could forget that orange classic -- pumpkins! Those jack o'lanterns just waiting for their faces. More of the glass that never fails to command my attention. More oranges and peaches, as well. (Those peaches must not be from around here, as our peaches aren't in season yet.) One of my favorite times of the year is when peaches are ripe. My favorite grocery store has an event called Peach-o-Rama. With lots of free samples. Peaches so juicy, fragrant and delectable they put oranges to shame. Only buy a few at a time and leave them in a paper bag at room temperature no more than a day or two. Then slice and enjoy. Delicious!

At the Seattle Art Museum's Sculpture Park, there is great concern about preservation of art pieces, seeing as how they're largely outdoors, with no museum staff to watch over them 24/7. So there are signs reminding visitors and similar placards that appear in other places. And I understand completely. But those prohibitions made me think about touch generally and loving touch more specifically. You know what I mean. holding hands cuddling like spoons in a drawer gentle little caresses to the cheek pats on the behind and to quote Crash Davis in Bull Durham "long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days" Oh my. We needn't go farther. I'm feeling faint already. I may swoon. And so in honor of sensual touch, I figured an alteration to those warning signs was definitely in order. But then I'm always looking for signs.

Sometimes it's fun to take yourself on a date. A playdate, that is. On this date, you look at pretty displays and ooooh and ahhh over things that catch your eye (especially if they have delicious reflections) and maybe even try your hand at gelatin print-making. The point is just to You remember how to do that, don't you?

It's self-portrait Wednesday again. I almost decided not to do a self-portrait piece today, because I had enough of cameras capturing my soul. You see, yesterday, I finally broke down and went to the offices of the upscale dating service I'd joined in order to do the photo shoot and video segment they mandate with memberships, a way of preventing false advertising, or more to the point: bait and switch. So the photographer clicked away and I tilted my head and showed my teeth and tried to look fetching and dazzling. The whole time I was thinking, "How demeaning. . . to be reduced to advertising just to find a date." Don't get me wrong. Mary did a fabulous job. The final four photos we agreed upon are wonderful, and I didn't even groan too emphatically even when I saw the full-body shots. Even though I have a full body. And when I get the photo disk I paid for, I'll do a little montage of the results of me trying my best to look fetching and dazzling. Now

Yesterday, I read the Mary Oliver poem that Nina Bagley posted on her blog. It sparked something. It evoked one of those episodes in which the words pour out, making me feel as if my job is merely to convert the energy sizzling in my brain into word forms and then to edit carefully, lightly, with intention all while preserving the power and authenticity of the energetic signature that's both me and foreign. Yes, that's it. I felt as if I were translating. So I wrote and edited and the poem below came into being. Then I searched for the perfect image to convey the freight of the words, because blog readers love the pairing of words and images, but alas, no starfish could be found. This little gem had to substitute. A nautilus, I think. I'm "still looking for starfish of love." "Still Looking for Starfish of Love" - photo copyright 2009 Meri Arnett-Kremian Looking for Starfish of Love* My heart leans forward, into the gale of longing, its sails snapping,

Delwyn of "A Hazy Moon" and I had a conversation this past weekend about details and how hard it is to establish a consistent balance of happiness when you haven't fallen in love with the little stuff (especially if you make a career out of dissatisfaction with the little stuff). When you get right down to it, life amounts to a whole lot of details added together. Individual moments, strung on the threads of our lives, like pearls. We experience delight and dismay moment by moment, reacting to what's here and now, being present to what's occurring unless we're all wadded up in what happened in the past or what we fear might befall us in the future. Love hinges on a whole lot of details, too: seeing some and celebrating them; ignoring others. To maintain equanimity in life, despite all the ups and downs, requires a deep knowing that all things pass, regardless of how desperately we want to hang on, no matter how intense our fear that things will never chang

Happy Father's Day to all the fathers in my family. My father (above) My sons' father (photo probably by Katie Caughlin Kremian) Brendan (Logan's daddy) Bob (Lise's husband and daddy to her four kiddos) Jon, Lise's dad John, my step-father My "adopted" daughter Mishelle's husband Jack (father of her three children) Doug, my brother, who is also my nephew Cooper's dad and finally, my brother Norm father of Dora Jean and Flojo Hana and Kerry Ann Maggie Mae and Punkus Cattus. Hope I didn't miss any of my feline nieces. (Kitty photos copyright Norm Arnett.) And Gavin -- don't be in a rush to join the Father's Day parade. Be the bird-dad for a LONG time. Those two conures are plenty of responsibility.

Over time, if we shoot authentically, follow the leanings of our heart, our body of work will become a silent testimony to who we are and what we care about. Our photographs will speak with a voice all their own, uttering our essence to all who can hear. - Jan Phillips (God is at Eye Level) "About to Blossom" photograph copyright 2009 Meri Arnett-Kremian It's easy to follow my heart when I shoot photographs but does following my heart lend a coherency to my "body of work?" Is there some kind of essential Meri-ness in my photos that speaks to you of me? Do they tell you that deep in my being I hope when you see my images the experience brings you healing for wounds you might have ignored, at least a moment of pleasure, and an appreciation of the beauty all around you? Do they tell you I wish for you to be moved, that if I am lucky you will know a piece of the joy ignited in me in the moment of capturing a beautiful image? Do they offer you an entrance into a plac

i'm going to depart from my normal quasi-philosophical musings and photographs that explore light and shadow, reflections and other things beautiful to post "kitsch and quirky" because this was just too weird not to photograph if you know what i mean can you imagine trying to balance yourself while riding this piece of art? or maybe the point is being unbalanced. maybe the feeling of being out of synch is what's being celebrated artistically. i don't know. but just so i don't lose my touch, permit me to wax philosophical for just a wee moment to ask (this is a great place to groan) "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?"

I'm ready. How about you? Midsummer's Night in Paris is a huge party. Allons-y!

This is me. Up close and personal. Wondering whether Platform58 an online zine viewable at issuu.com will ultimately decide to publish this shot or this shot in their next edition, one that has a "Cities" theme. They publish only one piece per artist and are deciding between the two (they had chosen the green shot, but then I confused them by saying, "You might like this one, too" and sending the fountain shot). When the choice is made and it's in "print" I'll let you know the ultimate decision. I'm just proud of me for taking the risk and putting my work out there for someone else to judge. p.s. They chose the fountain shot.

One looks, looks long, and the world comes in. - Joseph Campbell "Twists and Turns" - photograph copyright 2009 Meri Arnett-Kremian Have you lost your sense of adventure? I'm sure if you look, you'll find it waiting for you. It never really left.

When I was a little girl, in kindergarten and first grade, I lived only three blocks from school. But -- much to my mother's dismay, I'm sure-- it often took me an hour or more to walk home. That's because I took little meanders I called "shortcuts." Off I'd go, looking for new things to examine. Even though I'm a big girl now, I still love to meander, especially when my camera leads me astray. That happened Saturday evening, after I left the family gathering. I pointed my car toward home and then. . . . deviated. Here's some of what I saw while I was taking my "shortcut." Evidence someone is building a city of gold. The lid to the Space Needle with little teensy people inside. Roses gone wild. Telephone poles asserting their importance in a wireless age. Cool reflections against the top of my car, a car that smelled like pineapple, strawberries, and mango because I was taking leftovers home with me. Mother Nature painting the sky with pastel