Water and Words

Crescent Lake, Oregon

The other weekend ago we spent some time in the Crescent Lake area of Oregon.  I was surprised, yet again, by the turquoise blue water of the lake peaking through the trees.  How magical.  Nature never seems to let up, everything is so beautiful - even a rainy day.  When I think of lakes, I've always imagined the ones I know on the East Coast: muddy, green water solely navigated by the brave and the desperately hot.  I imagine leeches sticking to my feet in the muddy quicksand  and emerging with sediments still sticking to my sunscreen as I try to find relief in the shade.

At Crescent, we paddled on top of little waves - great practice for an inexperienced paddle boarder.  I wish I could've brought my camera; our dog looked so miserably cold - Why have you brought me out here???  She's our separation-anxiety dog and would've most likely whined on the shoreline or sniffed every person and food item available.  She was barely able to hold it together on that paddle board and nestled for warmth as necessary.  Poor puppy.

I love the outdoors and sometimes that is all I need - a run, hike, or beautiful experience.  Other times I need words and verbal or written perspective.  I really appreciated this poem I came across the other day:

"When I Am Asked"
by Lisel Mueller

When I am asked
how I began writing poems,
I talk about the indifference of nature.

It was soon after my mother died,
a brilliant June day,
everything blooming.

I sat on a gray stone bench
in a lovingly planted garden,
but the day lilies were as deaf
as the ears of drunken sleepers,
and the roses curved inward.
Nothing was black or broken
and not a leaf fell
and the sun blared endless commercials
for summer holidays.

I sat on a gray stone bench
ringed with the ingenue faces
of pink and white impatiens
and placed my grief
in the mouth of language,
the only thing that would grieve with me.

I don't read enough.  It's too hard and too easy to watch a show or movie instead.  When I do come across words that can make sense of something deeper, it is such a gift.  I've had those moments where I feel like the world has stopped, but it hasn't.  While my world has changed, the rest of it seems to keep on going.

I've had the pleasure of hearing some music recently.  We heard Neko Case, Laura Veirs, and K.D. Lang; Mandolin Orange - a sweet folksy duo with thoughtful lyrics and beautiful violin, mandolin, and guitar; and I stopped by Bend's downtown Summerfest to hear Blind Pilot play for free.  Thank goodness for musicians, who bring thoughts and words to life.  Although nature may be indifferent, people are not.  We are all much too affected by the power of each other.

Keep creating songwriters, poets, writers, and artists, just as the nature around us does the same.

The Pool Boy

I'm not sure how this nickname came about... but this is how my Dad refers to Kevin: the pool boy.  We do not have a pool.  Since my brother never gave a best man speech - and unfortunately probably has the best stories to tell - perhaps this can serve as something.  I've known Kevin since he was probably around age 6 or so.  But the first time I remember laughing with Kevin, was sitting in his Mom's car or maybe it was Mrs. Ackerman's car, looking through tapes.  It was not uncommon to sit in the car in the church parking lot before our Moms came out ready to drive us home.  I was probably in middle school or so - can't remember.  We came across some kind of emotional/empowerment/encouraging tape that was entitled "Heart to Heart."  I believe we played it, but I can't even remember what it was about.  We just thought it was really funny - in the same vein as Stuart Smalley and his "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and dog gone it, people like me."  To this day we still refer to each other as "heart to heart sistas" or some variation of that.  One of my favorite Facebook posts from Kevin - back when people used to post personal/funny things - was this one from May 13, 2011 after he graduated college:

There are so many funny/my-face-hurts moments, stories, and photos, that I have shared with Kevin - and Alan.  Kevin sent me 2 Kenny G CDs for my birthday one year.  He, my brother, and I have spent a couple New Years together - I remember one year we were discussing what the saddest songs ever are ("Brick" Ben Folds Five).  We had a Sufjan Stevens dance party one time in Alan's room.  While I was away at college, the two of them created a couple DVDs with a morning show called "Warm Ice Cream in the Morning" along with other sketches which they sent to me.  I found these in my basement recently and re-watched them at Christmas.  Kevin has spent Christmas with us and visited our family in Scotland with Alan and my Mom.  He is more than a pool boy - he is part of our family.

It is with all that, that I say, welcome to the family, Danielle.  I had a great time photographing your wedding and making ya'll stand out there in the hot sticky Monroe heat.  Cheers to you both!

(Oh - and here's a little Kenny G as a soundtrack for these photos)

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