Capture serenity

How do you capture stress in an image? I know how to capture serenity – the lovely softness of a flower petal, the potential of a path to who knows where, calm pools of ocean embracing tidal creatures. I got that. But where, in my portfolio, can I find a photograph to post here that would represent a stressful day in the life of, well, me?




And why, you might ask, would I want to capture stress in a photograph?

They keep telling me to reduce stress in my life. The doctors and therapists I’ve seen cast that off as the solution, and it probably is, but they don’t offer how to do it. Over the past few months, I’ve been trying to determine the cause of the headaches I had been suffering from on a daily basis for years now. I woke up with pain, jaw aching from clenching my teeth. I must be a lovely site to see first thing in the morning. The mornings at home are probably more rushed than they need to be and I know the solution for it, but can’t seem to make it happen. Even if I got up two hours early, I still would push it to the last minute, finding plenty of other things that need to be done as well as the usual morning stuff. My drive into work is not one of free ways and traffic jams. An occasional delay when my timing parallels that of the school bus isn’t enough to call my commute into question as the cause of my tension. And really, work isn’t that stressful. Sure there are times when things gotta get done and the afternoon is winding down, but I don’t usually take my work home with me, except to vent to my husband, who works for the same organization. I’ve certainly had worse jobs. I don’t dread going into work. My kid is good, well behaved for the most part. I don’t have to worry about her so much. She’s a good, loving, smart kid. Relationships with my husband and parents are solid and enjoyable. So what’s the deal? Why is it that I have to consciously relax my shoulders and neck and rub my temples? After months of exploring the causes of my headaches; I’ve had my eyes and teeth checked, health is good, nothing abnormal there, started chiropractic care to address spinal misalignment which can sometimes cause neck and facial tension, and even had an allergy scan, which incidentally, brought to light the fact that I’m allergic to dust and dust mites. Oh great, something else I have to worry about, cleaning the house.



But my mind races constantly and I need to find a way to quiet things in there. My thoughts flit from the next thing I have to do (finish this sentence) to what I’m having for lunch (leftover fish and asparagus), and oh yeah, I’ve got to call Nola’s school for directions to that thing in a couple of weeks and pay my credit card bills online and email Wanda about dinner Saturday and where the heck are those magnifying lenses I bought last summer? I need to see if I can shoot something for Pioneer Woman’s photo assignment for the week on macros and I’ve got to go to Walmart and pick up those prints, when can I go? It goes on and on. From one thing to another and not all worry and dread at all, as you can see, just activity and perpetually on the hamster wheel of thoughts of my life.

Maybe I just don’t need to find that photograph after all. Maybe what I need to do is to continue to seek out the calm and serene and keep the focus of my lens on those things. Take the advice I’ve been getting and seek out ways to relax. See, I’ve just added something else to the list. . . the endless list of things to do. Find a yoga class. Learn how to meditate. Am I the only one living with such a constant stream of tasks and questions and decisions on the run? I doubt it. I’d love to hear how anyone out there deals with the everyday and how you get to stop and take a look at the big picture before it’s too late. Teach me to remember what’s most important.

Maine to Mexico

I like to entertain myself during the dismal winter months in Maine by reading books about traveling and living in the tropics. Last summer, one of my favorite reads of 2009 was Queen of the Road by Doreen Orion. Ms. Orion’s chronicling of a year spent on the road, in a huge, luxurious RV, with her polar opposite husband and pets, launched me on a travel lust that sustained me through the aforementioned hideous winter. I got to thinking about the concept of taking a year off from our regular life and doing a little traveling.

Somewhere along the way I found the word “fernwah” which is akin to wanderlust, and means farsickness; or ache for distance. Isn’t that a great word? For some time now, travel has been of focus in my life. My husband, when we were first together, gave me my “first look” at the Caribbean. Then, within a few months, turned me on to roller coasters. Between the two things, I’m always headed somewhere in my mind, either snorkeling with turtles in Akumal, or rounding the crest of the 2nd hill on Millenium Force at Cedar Point.

The concept of a sabbatical is not a new one. Academic types have been doing it for ages. The family sabbatical, though, is something that had never crossed my mind until I began thinking about taking a year off to travel with my husband and kid. Once the seed was planted and research begun, I found incredible resources both in print and online that not only documented other people’s experiences, but justified the whole thing. In the book Six Months Off: How to plan, negotiate, and take the break you need without burning bridges or going broke, by Hope Dlugozima, James Scott, and David Shard, the authors discuss the mental health benefits of a long term break, how it is know that you will return renewed and refreshed with new ideas that you can bring into your life. In Living Your Road Trip Dream by Phil and Carol White, the actual HOW part is addressed, and in The Family Sabbatical Handbook, by Elise Bernick, the HOW TO DO IT WITH KIDS part is precisely spelled out. All of these books and a few others that told tales of packing it all up and moving to an island were my winter reads.

A month or so ago, with all of this whirling around in my head, and the fact that I’d been wearing long johns and two pairs of socks still fresh, I happened upon a business acquaintance who spoke of having just returned from Cancun where he and his wife spent a month. A month! It seemed so indulgent and I was immediately envious. Never mind this wintering in Florida stuff that lots of Mainers do. Of course I couldn’t help but strike up conversation, telling him of our trips to the Riviera Maya, our passion for the place, and my recent reads. He gave me the name and email address of the person from whom he had rented an apartment for a month for cheap. Cheap is a key word in my travel lexicon.



I contacted the man in Mexico with the apartment and was told that whenever I want it it’s ready, just let him know. A month in Mexico! What an idea! While it’s not the year off traveling around the country, or settling in to learn a new language kind of sabbatical, it’s something doable for us. No selling the house. No homeschooling Nola. Although putting our lives on hold in exchange for some adventure sounds appealing, I know myself and my husband enough to know that a month away is something we can handle, both financially and mentally. But truthfully, I thought that my husband would instantly dismiss it. We’ve taken on more expenses in our new house and money’s not flowing as freely as it had in our earlier roller coaster beach frolicking years. I’m not quite sure what made me bring it up yesterday. To my surprise, as he chopped vegetables for salad, he said “I can take January off”. And in his cautious, but excited (and really cute) way, he asked me some questions about the apartment and the circumstances under which I came to know about it.



The bottom line is that this may become a reality. We may actually be able to go to Mexico next January for a month. My financial estimations indicate that we could spend a month there for about the same cost as a week at the resort we’ve loved.

I’d love to hear from anyone out there who has done this. I’d be very interested in information about the El Centro section of Cancun. What is it like on a daily basis? We’ll have to grocery shop and live for a while in a city where we don’t speak the language. How did you handle taking your kid out of school for that time? What was it like?



From Maine to Mexico and back? In the dead of winter? I’m in!



All I’ve got to say is stay tuned . . . further details to come!

Hope on the windowsill

Some people are just not cut out to garden. My husband is one of those people. He doesn't get it. The dirt. The planning. The watering. The waiting. Why go through the hassle when there's a grocery store less than a mile away? I've never asked him whether his parents gardened. I suppose I should, given that it could clarify this discrepancy in our personalities. His sister has gorgeous flower beds and a few tomato plants each summer. It doesn't seem that he has had much experience with the joy of a fabulous vegetable garden. I feel sorry for him in that he hasn't been thrilled by it all, nor does he enjoy the smell of the soil or the excitement of the first few sprouts of greenery. My mom grew marigolds, and I think she tried her hand at geraniums at some point. My dad did and still does grow tomatoes. A few years ago, he actually did it from seed he kept from the prior year's crop, like a true farmer in the city. Last year, the first year in our house, therefore the first year I could have a garden in the time that Joe and I have been together as a couple, was a horrible year to try to show off my green thumbs. I wanted desperately to justify the effort of my building a raised bed, hauling in the dirt and compost, buying seeds and spending my summer evenings watering. The season was soggy from the start and the month of June had only two days without precipitation, never mind that I was swamped with a few little things like renovating the house so we could move in and oh yeah –planning our June wedding. Darn how life keeps me out of the dirt. I didn’t get my seeds and seedlings into the garden until July. Our season is short here in Maine and when September came, aside from a few snow peas and string beans eaten off the bush, and a handful of radishes and some sad lettuce, I really had no harvest. Some blight or another got to the tomatoes and cukes and the melons never went anywhere.

So with that kind of recent history, why even start it this year? Optimism. I have hope.

Hope and positive thinking got me starting my seeds last weekend, exactly eight weeks before the threat of last frost at the end of May. Anticipation will keep me watering them until the first seedlings emerge. Expectation of the delight of eating outrageously fresh tomatoes will get me on my knees in the soil tomorrow, culling rocks and sticks out of the raised bed and tilling the soil so it can warm some before I plant the first of my cool crops, a first for me this year. A try at planting spinach and lettuce early in the spring may end up proving to have been a waste of my time, in the eyes of some in my household, but I will have learned and will most likely try again next year.

That’s what us gardener types do. We may suffer blight and molds and scorching killing heat and unexpected frosts, but we keep planting. Those of us who have done it before know the rewards of a lush and productive garden. The fragrance that summer tomato vines leave on your hands is heady. Rubbing a leaf of fresh basil can send me back fifteen years to my first garden, a patch of ground where I uncovered asparagus and peppermint, left by a previous caretaker. I tilled and tended to that garden, installing brick walkways, an arbor and a bench for taking in the view. I was elated to be able to pull ears of corn to accompany the steaks on the grill for supper that night and to hang and dry the Thai dragon peppers for winter use. Of course I photographed baskets of harvested peppers and tomatoes, learned how to make sauce, salsa and jalapeño pepper jam, and was incredibly charmed by the whole experience. Having a few years of successful gardening has forever changed the way I anticipate spring. Now I console myself in the winter months with garden books and charts and plans. It is because of gardens past that my living room windowsill is filled with pots of seeds and soil. It is the hope of repeated success and the pleasure of the freshest possible tastes that I keep planting despite the convenience of a world of food right around the corner.

It would be great if my husband would consider my little 4 x 8 obsession a simple blessing, but until he experiences a successful season with me, he is unlikely to march wholeheartedly into the garden. But maybe this will be the year he gets a taste for the fabulous flavors that can come out of his own back yard.

Shoot the fruit (and veggies)

I am food obsessed. I love planning our menu for the week. I even love - gulp - grocery shopping. Now, like so many other families, we are on a budget of sorts and I try to save money when I shop. Not only do I get the coupons out of the newspapers, I subscribe to the coupon websites, so I get a slew of coupon emails every week. I also have requested that the local grocery stores' circulars be emailed to me as well. Saturday morning comes and I am often at the kitchen table with coupons and my sale lists. I coordinate our weekly menu accordingly, factoring in the usual mom kind of stuff like how we need quickly prepared meals on guitar lesson night. My husband is great at getting the meals ready for us to pull together when we get home. The other night - taco night - he did all the prep work while we were gone. Take a look at this. He's awesome, right?

I also love to take photographs of food. The colors and textures are as captivating as those of flowers. Recently we went to Whole Foods in Portland. Joe and I had gone once before (we don't get to the big city much) and I had remembered how beautiful the food displays were. So this time I came prepared. When we arrived, my husband knew that I was planning on taking pictures in the market on a busy Sunday morning and therefore would embarrass him. Some people get squeamish if someone they're with calls attention to themselves and therefore anyone associated with them. My daughter wasn't fazed and in fact, hollered across the produce department, "Hey Mom, check out the avocados!" So, with Joe slinking over to the organic hummus and Nola juggling the lemons, I started taking photos of the amazingly displayed peppers - a personal favorite - the carrots, the zucchini, the summer squash - it was all too much. No other department holds the riot of color that the produce department does. There was a guy working there, putting out some new veggies, and prior to the first click, I asked permission to shoot the fruit. Turns out he had just moved from Bangor to Portland and had worked at our local natural food store, so he was more than accomodating. I complimented his produce and, thought he could have, he didn't take the credit for the array. He said they have a guy whose job it is to prepare the display. Amazing. We call this "food porn". Here is some of his awesome work.

I'm also a huge fan of farmer's markets for this same reason. The baskets of tomatoes, piles of potatoes, and those fabulous wooden crates of greens just suck me right in. Most folks are pretty cool about my photographing their goods. Sometimes I actually buy something.



I rarely take my camera to my local supermarket. I'm there for business. Get the stuff on my list. Get it for the best price I can. Get out. Get it home and get it put away.

Perhaps I should reconsider this. Take a look around your local markets and see what you can see. They say that you should eat the rainbow - in colors on your plate - and if this stuff is any indication of what's available in the market, it's going to be a delicious road to the end of the rainbow.


oh - one last image to share from my visit to Whole Foods. This was a couple of weeks before Easer and I couldn't resist.

Remind me to write about my obsession with signs sometime

Crocus Focus

You could say that of late, the level of my photography has gone down.  I would agree.  It's gone down alright.  To the ground and dirt that's finally freed from the snow cover; to where, at long last, the flowers are poking through the ground.  I was on my knees last week to get this shot of the crocuses that are coming up in my yard.  These were planted by a former owner.  I can't take the credit.  They were a wonderful surprise last week, after days of rain.

In another case of me being on my knees in the dirt, I photographed this beautiful batch of crocuses in the flower beds in front of my dentists office.  you can see the rain drops clinging to the petals and the colors made vibrant by the setting.  Love this. 

Really.  Not trying to bore you with my crocus obsession.  Daffodils are blooming now, too and my crocus focus will soon have some competition.  Given my feelings about winter in Maine (more on that on my Maine page), the crocuses are such a welcomed site.  There are few flowers that excite me more.  It's not the simple little flower itself, it's the whole package of spring and it's final arrival.  It's know that if they're here, then summer is coming . . . eventually.  Mostly it means that winter is behind me for another year. 

The beginning

ok.  So here it is.  The start of my blog.  Write what you know, is what they say.  What do I know anyway?  Will this be an exploration of yet undiscovered ground?  In a way, that is my hope.  What is the purpose of my blog?  I guess it would be to share my photography and writing, love of food and love of travel, the wonder of the world through the lens as well as through my daughter's eyes, and to question things as I move forward in life. 

I hope to excite and inspire, to thrill and be thrilled.   

For today, though, I'm a beginner.

I have a website for my photography that I would love for you to visit.  Give me any feedback that you might have to offer.  I'm open to criticism (just take it easy, will ya, didn't I just say I'm a beginner?) 

Here's the website:  http://www.celestecota.com/

So - go.  Take a look at my photographs and come back and let me know what you think.  In the meantime, I'll be here, thinking, writing, learning, loving, and yes, working on this, day by day.