tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760181083902283712024-03-05T00:22:52.989-08:00Nine Dragons Photography and ThoughtsMusings on life, photography and knowing myself.Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-37126617494716351902014-06-24T16:54:00.000-07:002014-06-25T10:57:55.076-07:00Strong Women<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMbkrT-iY-0WLVaIOJ_3AEJQMpg0qs62bPMPtd7hUKUDTsljAycpphv8ZARJIkQgnxn9AEXk_-KJJMCR-aY7IMHqJoxfNK155Jc3orQS7j1VwoDrQC8yPE672eorw22w8KEhYi4U18gtIb/s1600/20140528_110252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: Helvetica; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMbkrT-iY-0WLVaIOJ_3AEJQMpg0qs62bPMPtd7hUKUDTsljAycpphv8ZARJIkQgnxn9AEXk_-KJJMCR-aY7IMHqJoxfNK155Jc3orQS7j1VwoDrQC8yPE672eorw22w8KEhYi4U18gtIb/s1600/20140528_110252.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hello again. I’m a big fan of Donna Grossman and That Girl Knitz. Her work is unique, creative and very fun. Be sure to check out her website, you'll find a link below. Donna invited me to write a guest blog, I’m happy to oblige. Bear with me, I’m feeling fanciful today.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Strong women. They rock, they lead, they inspire. A few of my personal favorites: Mae West, Clare Boothe Luce, Eleanor Roosevelt, Katharine Graham, Beryl Markham, Freya Stark. There are hundreds of thousands of them. Many are known to the world, others are known quietly — only to their families. I look for them in movies, in books, in my own life and I learn.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Strong women show up in my photography. I see them on the street, I glimpse them in old buildings. Hidden in plain sight, their messages to me are written on their faces and carved into the architecture of their bodies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I took this shot while trekking across San Francisco on foot — the </span><i style="letter-spacing: 0px;">best </i><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">way to travel with a camera in hand.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">An oasis in a landscape bereft of beauty, she was painted by the talented female artistic team of Alynn-Mags, in brilliant, bold color.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Peaceful and determined, I imagine she’ll unfold long, graceful legs and step off that wall to rule the world.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">She reminds me to breathe and stay centered.</span></span><br />
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This mermaid caryatid, perched just off the Florida shoreline, supports a carved stone barge with purpose and grace. Embracing whatever comes, waves or wild weather, you can see she’s not a whiner. When she’s busy with other projects, she arranges for dolphin pals to “stand in”. She inspires me to ask for what I need…and to take up swimming again.</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Art Deco. An era when women shrugged off all those heavy layers of Victorian clothes and played with abandon. The sculptor of this piece may think he has our muse clutching a phallic symbol of urban strength on her left, but here’s my take on it: she’s fully embracing her masculine side (yin and yang you know) while remaining utterly feminine and holding wings to soar as well. She encourages me to accept all aspects of myself.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You’ll find more strong women when you visit my shop. These images and many more may be found in my Urban Art and Architectural Detail Shop Sections located on the upper left side of my home page, Shop Sections make shopping quick and easy. Links Links and More Links: </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My Shop: <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragons"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragons</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span>That Girl Knitz: http://www.thatgirlknitz.com</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Thanks for dropping by,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">E. England</span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-68803806703858287102014-06-05T11:42:00.001-07:002014-06-05T11:43:49.657-07:00Do You See What I See?<div style="font-family: Helvetica;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Photography is a blast — totally fun. Why else would I do it? It’s also widely open to interpretation by each viewer - as is all art. I’ve been pondering that lately, so I thought I’d tip-toe out of my comfort zone and onto a tiny little ledge to personally share what I see in this photo, taken one day in the city.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Here’s the photo.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It’s an old, city wall with a clump of ivy hanging over it and a large, orange graffiti scrawl across the lower right side. Based on an unsolicited critique (by a fellow photographer!) of another of my photos, some may see this as nothing more than a “casual snapshot”. Look a little longer, there are some interesting things going on. Here’s what I see.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Our brains like balance, which is provided nicely here by four loosel</span>y<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> color-blocked quadrants: Green/grey, grey/pink, white and orange. The rusting “chair rail” that cuts almost diagonally across the image creates a tidy top and bottom. It’s trimmed with a heavily inked line of black across the top, adding depth and movement from left to right. The two darkly rusted strips of metal that run vertically up the wall draw the eye upwards, adding more movement and a corseted structure. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There’s more. The heavy scrawl of vivid orange graffiti acts to anchor or ground the image while the cascade of deep green ivy provides (again) that comforting balance. The black “@“ sign, or encircled ‘e’ to the left of the ivy feels vaguely hieroglyphic and I think about the level of importance future cultures may bestow on the Graffiti we are leaving behind. There’s also a metaphorical balancing in the naturally wild, organic growth of ivy and the urban-wild scrawl of spray paint “growing” across the lower wall. I could go on, but I'll show mercy and stop here.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Each viewer will see something different, or nothing at all, but I promise you, the longer you look, the more you’ll see. Wondering what to do with a photo like this? Frame it in basic black or in pale wood, adding urban “edge” to a Wall Grouping or ask for a deckled (torn) edge and float it in a plexiglass frame for a sleek, modern and thoroughly original living room focal point. Oh, and feel free to use my crazy art interpretation at your next uber-sophisticated cocktail party!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Test your own Art Critic skills here — one pro didn’t do so well (neither did I):</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/jenlewis/quiz-can-you-tell-the-difference-between-modern-art-and-art">http://www.buzzfeed.com/jenlewis/quiz-can-you-tell-the-difference-between-modern-art-and-art</a></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">All the best,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Elizabeth</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Here’s a link to my shop:</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://www.ninedragons.etsy.com/">www.ninedragons.etsy.com</a></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Here’s a link to more Urban Art:</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragons?section_id=12963822">https://www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragons?section_id=12963822</a></span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-8082682379605922572014-05-07T16:51:00.000-07:002014-05-13T07:16:30.868-07:00Food for thought...<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This recipe was inspired by something Martha Stewart posted just before Easter. I love avocados and try to add the occasional egg to my diet, so Martha’s recipe caught my eye. You should know I’m lazy; to be clear, I’m actually very lazy — especially when it comes to cooking. My house however, is filled with post Easter hard-boiled eggs and I got hungry. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Here’s what I came up with. It takes me about 30 minutes to whip up — it will only take <i>you</i> about 10 minutes to make. I’m appallingly slow in the kitchen.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcc3yHl648hy0Zi5ndLfQGJlhpkSJSLydByxs32HE41M1qUgbtFeHhUIilcNhYtxcUmiazYLCvs26pmvd7g7DyQpPFM33Ew4N4zdsNVysLUs6UonIxDMGQwKMGC0e3BqmwY3wdnfUt2geb/s1600/IMG_0054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcc3yHl648hy0Zi5ndLfQGJlhpkSJSLydByxs32HE41M1qUgbtFeHhUIilcNhYtxcUmiazYLCvs26pmvd7g7DyQpPFM33Ew4N4zdsNVysLUs6UonIxDMGQwKMGC0e3BqmwY3wdnfUt2geb/s1600/IMG_0054.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Why it’s healthy (aka Ingredients):</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">2 hardboiled eggs, chopped </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">1 slice of feta cheese, crumbled</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">1/2 lime</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">drizzle of olive oil (don’t be stingy)</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Directions: Rub a little olive oil on the pita breads and slice them into 1/8ths. Pop them into the oven to toast if you like a little added crunch. Combine the chopped and crumbled ingredients in a bowl. Drizzle with olive oil, the juice of 1/2 lime. Add hearty shakes of the spices. Mix well. That’s it. Gently combining the oil, lime and feta creates a creamy “dressing” without the mayo. Serves 2 hearty eaters or 4 dainty types. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Stop here if you care only about taste and not so much about nutrition or health.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Healthy Facts (based on a super quick internet search):</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I loathe mayonnaise or Miracle Whip, homemade or otherwise -- it’s a taste thing for me, but I also love eating fresh and healthy, which lets me feel virtuous and indulge in my love of chocolate more often. One little tablespoon of mayo adds up to approximately 94 calories; 10 grams of fat, no protein, fiber, vitamin A, vitamin C, iron or calcium, so it’s high in calories without much in the way of nutrition except for fat.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Eggs: High in protein, contain all 9 essential amino acids, highly concentrated with vitamins and minerals and one of the best sources of choline (good for the brain) you can get. Rich in two antioxidants <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lutein"><span style="color: #042eee; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Lutein</span></a> (eyes) and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zeaxanthin"><span style="color: #042eee; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Zeaxanthine</span></a> (whatever <i>that</i> is).</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Avocado: Excellent source of fiber, <a href="http://www.webmd.com/vitamins-and-supplements/lifestyle-guide-11/supplement-guide-potassium"><span style="color: #3689b9; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">potassium</span></a>, and vitamins C, K, folate, and B6. Half an avocado has 160 calories, 15 grams of <a href="http://www.webmd.com/heart/picture-of-the-heart"><span style="color: #3689b9; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">heart</span></a>-healthy unsaturated fat, and only 2 grams saturated fat. Contains more than one-third the daily value of <a href="http://www.webmd.com/vitamins-supplements/ingredientmono-1001-vitamin+c+ascorbic+acid.aspx?activeingredientid=1001&activeingredientname=vitamin+c+(ascorbic+acid)"><span style="color: #3689b9; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">vitamin C</span></a>, and more than half the day’s requirements of <a href="http://www.webmd.com/vitamins-supplements/ingredientmono-983-vitamin+k.aspx?activeingredientid=983&activeingredientname=vitamin+k"><span style="color: #3689b9; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">vitamin K</span></a>.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Onion: A powerful antibiotic, onions exceed Red Wine in heart-protective properties by lowering cholesterol, inhibiting hardening of the arteries, adding elasticity of blood vessels and helping maintain healthy blood pressure. Regulates blood sugar and racks up hundreds of scientific citations on anti-cancer properties. Who knew?!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Olive Oil: A monounsaturated fatty acid (MUFA), considered a healthy dietary fat — as long as you’re replacing saturated and trans fats and not adding to them. MUFA’s may help lower your risk of heart disease. They have been found to lower your total cholesterol and low-density lipoprotein cholesterol levels. May also help normalize blood clotting, regulate insulin levels and aid blood sugar control. (so says the Mayo Clinic)</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Turmeric: Anti-inflammatory - pretty color too.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Cumin: Aids proper digestion and nutrient absorption. Cumin is also a source of iron, making it a good metabolic support for efficient energy production and robust immunity.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Chili Powder: Boosts metabolism and immune system. Inhibits inflammation. (I use Santa Fe Seasoning’s chili powders - they taste amazing)</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Feta Cheese: Lower in fat and calories than most cheeses, but so yummy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 0px;">Tasty + healthy.</span><span style="font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 0px;">Let me know how you like it!</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">www.ninedragons.etsy.com</span></div>
Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-54008486764046075342014-04-27T14:56:00.000-07:002014-04-27T15:29:58.467-07:00A Fresh Idea For Mother’s Day!<div style="font-family: Helvetica;">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Send flowers. Not so fresh you’re thinking? Ah, but these flowers are crisp, romantic photographic images printed on luxurious, museum-quality watercolor paper using archival inks for a noticeable layer of texture and rich, long lasting color. You can almost smell them. Here’s a peek at a few flowers available in my shop that will last a lifetime.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8iq4LaeyxXNICJUrtc5pFam1syrfiuIlJ6harLX2tp0JgjLlshzuAQFFk947UAc4D3vquyNTodrCBvekri9bus2m-0fWEDm0YoMphUQvIFJKUteBJ3o2EY0TI5hOqfvaiBCUCb7tutTJ/s1600/DSCN3459+-+Lilacs+Square+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8iq4LaeyxXNICJUrtc5pFam1syrfiuIlJ6harLX2tp0JgjLlshzuAQFFk947UAc4D3vquyNTodrCBvekri9bus2m-0fWEDm0YoMphUQvIFJKUteBJ3o2EY0TI5hOqfvaiBCUCb7tutTJ/s1600/DSCN3459+-+Lilacs+Square+%25283%2529.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lilacs in a Ball jar.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM92xihKOAFFVSq-QV0p35TM-2hr-7hIeJSmm8xYgo0uWYpTLVsKg7mw_Hbx5KY6X-790PH3Y1hCp_qOg0P0y1X7coolimclaEHuGUdpEYjgeoy1ULt6phAMEcxcHKMoPMvwF3tzVUrHKc/s1600/DSCN3514+-+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM92xihKOAFFVSq-QV0p35TM-2hr-7hIeJSmm8xYgo0uWYpTLVsKg7mw_Hbx5KY6X-790PH3Y1hCp_qOg0P0y1X7coolimclaEHuGUdpEYjgeoy1ULt6phAMEcxcHKMoPMvwF3tzVUrHKc/s1600/DSCN3514+-+Square.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White Dogwood in bloom.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFhTT69NfnOchl5X9nmllCJXkLVJ-fZ_c2tp7zI0AYLETCVOngNs6oaIJCDBrsH5pg3Xzr3Q_88j89bOB7cG71cCdqqFyVcNoQS0nDkNuWp1HkFX08dw3ClZ9YNx1Yn9scYEvg-H9-KQde/s1600/DSCN3516+-+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFhTT69NfnOchl5X9nmllCJXkLVJ-fZ_c2tp7zI0AYLETCVOngNs6oaIJCDBrsH5pg3Xzr3Q_88j89bOB7cG71cCdqqFyVcNoQS0nDkNuWp1HkFX08dw3ClZ9YNx1Yn9scYEvg-H9-KQde/s1600/DSCN3516+-+Square.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lilacs in the city.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8rXLBxvBlSIf1SmHbeOwXwOKtKaNywbK2tgoMw6yA56kZxTLz3V2rDRFNY5Zz8JYY0wLbZe1FsHuV6fvSWu7F7b3KUBkBgQbS6RG8x2a5X96xX3I1-XqRGj44SnX3NP1-WuqXwdYoSED2/s1600/DSCN3530+-+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8rXLBxvBlSIf1SmHbeOwXwOKtKaNywbK2tgoMw6yA56kZxTLz3V2rDRFNY5Zz8JYY0wLbZe1FsHuV6fvSWu7F7b3KUBkBgQbS6RG8x2a5X96xX3I1-XqRGj44SnX3NP1-WuqXwdYoSED2/s1600/DSCN3530+-+Square.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White with the freshest green.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3tiKToXc-Ai0J17YkaEmYAtclCal0g61PpsMNO-5XXdF3T4jd4nh0Bhd9AHKTst6M-Z_EgFT9AVk3hCM72CzzUWpQPjBLQ04Fog3id7aFd5XECCwcXu3h6d13OJKTGjvyOMvCDLNy8Nw/s1600/DSCN4446+-+Daisy+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3tiKToXc-Ai0J17YkaEmYAtclCal0g61PpsMNO-5XXdF3T4jd4nh0Bhd9AHKTst6M-Z_EgFT9AVk3hCM72CzzUWpQPjBLQ04Fog3id7aFd5XECCwcXu3h6d13OJKTGjvyOMvCDLNy8Nw/s1600/DSCN4446+-+Daisy+Square.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simple beauty. The daisy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOw-l9sgb_1WtGhK1KpofYKdrzPcQ_fkixvIP5hJ9A4zc1r2mTaEVl_khIfl1dyuIxwKgf22WZxOxo1Z2vnAwc6rWZyDS5jB2_zlFzS9T2YL-ksdxjq5y-tt4X7oLdw61AP737yWpS2oFf/s1600/Wisteria+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOw-l9sgb_1WtGhK1KpofYKdrzPcQ_fkixvIP5hJ9A4zc1r2mTaEVl_khIfl1dyuIxwKgf22WZxOxo1Z2vnAwc6rWZyDS5jB2_zlFzS9T2YL-ksdxjq5y-tt4X7oLdw61AP737yWpS2oFf/s1600/Wisteria+Square.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green Man w/wisteria.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnOWnyaKZMW6x2EVJvuzBWMc6Zk5F2Kemt7Li8LSnqqvVH8osekgPN8pUz1Fyii9BbrpzDnwCPrd1Gc7Kr48H3r3Qt7OG_zzQz-2qYDXYMPzorw2E-aT7W1fleLPge20xu__4LSyUnTml/s1600/Pink+Geraniums+8x10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnOWnyaKZMW6x2EVJvuzBWMc6Zk5F2Kemt7Li8LSnqqvVH8osekgPN8pUz1Fyii9BbrpzDnwCPrd1Gc7Kr48H3r3Qt7OG_zzQz-2qYDXYMPzorw2E-aT7W1fleLPge20xu__4LSyUnTml/s1600/Pink+Geraniums+8x10.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pink Italian geraniums.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3K36famUBUzLx8XvUSQPiJNlx2KY4JD_YS3q97F6ThxFx02y8RPb9245izktSXBVuVwmQej4gXG8nyfe_Hx3xDF1JcGTpnC1pM8NbKopGsnwvIqc_DP5FtcrkM15mMjjlIm235x_OLPRA/s1600/DSCN3324+-+Version+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3K36famUBUzLx8XvUSQPiJNlx2KY4JD_YS3q97F6ThxFx02y8RPb9245izktSXBVuVwmQej4gXG8nyfe_Hx3xDF1JcGTpnC1pM8NbKopGsnwvIqc_DP5FtcrkM15mMjjlIm235x_OLPRA/s1600/DSCN3324+-+Version+3.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh White with Hot Pink.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Mom’s not into flowers so much?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">No problem, stop into my shop — I’ve got an unusual selection of Travel, Nature, Urban, Abstract and Nautical Photography to choose from.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Standard and custom sizes are always available.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">www.ninedragons.etsy.com</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Happy shopping & all the best,</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Elizabeth England</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Nine Dragons Photography</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-7595861540010704272014-02-14T14:26:00.000-08:002014-02-14T14:26:33.712-08:00Hearts<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy Valentine's Day. Today seems like the perfect day to confess that I love hearts. I'm a glass-half-full kind of girl and I see the world as an astoundingly lovely place...which may be why I seem to find hearts just about everywhere. Here is a photographic series of hearts I've "collected" and find very dear. It's amazing where you see them once you start to look. Each one is available in my Etsy shop: www.ninedragons.etsy.com Or simply enjoy them here!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl564Bw0qtALUh6pKcBayKrZ3SZ34roO3F-SF-6K3PLyB_uet52mlq-vk45284fUTC8v7vPpd_KjAR4mO9jdnokqA5ZJR_W9lRWap1daTFwexFciJpMa7aa1RBHfaUDHMgXkG_xY5wtrv-/s1600/DSCN2064+-+8x10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl564Bw0qtALUh6pKcBayKrZ3SZ34roO3F-SF-6K3PLyB_uet52mlq-vk45284fUTC8v7vPpd_KjAR4mO9jdnokqA5ZJR_W9lRWap1daTFwexFciJpMa7aa1RBHfaUDHMgXkG_xY5wtrv-/s1600/DSCN2064+-+8x10.jpg" height="255" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">City Heart</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeP07med6Zr77TzPUn_gEYiO8ZllcAK94ckEw5BFZGLhH-MoHNZeKxPJ-Zm3a0RGxFtcRVK1-Njli8qD91XHLHxc45TFfqNyBvSFIY8qwb4WQNMUEYXrD56_lQAqJ_ue8QXBHJ3RY2KlP/s1600/DSCN4474+-+Square+-+Version+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeP07med6Zr77TzPUn_gEYiO8ZllcAK94ckEw5BFZGLhH-MoHNZeKxPJ-Zm3a0RGxFtcRVK1-Njli8qD91XHLHxc45TFfqNyBvSFIY8qwb4WQNMUEYXrD56_lQAqJ_ue8QXBHJ3RY2KlP/s1600/DSCN4474+-+Square+-+Version+5.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crusted Heart I</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUXShHCDosVOmA6amnjWwE62UAcufpNaAn-vKUfCgnw5aOGFCLF_3gtglwV2brccE1IE9HXRbGL6bUVJWMPMLE9meedrjl2TwevYdIz1FjtKQi_4iKJizRFXa2pbCnxYYnybBedkm9IKid/s1600/DSCN2373+-+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUXShHCDosVOmA6amnjWwE62UAcufpNaAn-vKUfCgnw5aOGFCLF_3gtglwV2brccE1IE9HXRbGL6bUVJWMPMLE9meedrjl2TwevYdIz1FjtKQi_4iKJizRFXa2pbCnxYYnybBedkm9IKid/s1600/DSCN2373+-+Square.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marathon Heart</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UFjCCN8GYX_GwwXNDr4Xbn8Ahn1JdLj4iWRgnOHcIUIR_MseSP9uR_LQckSr8IgNS5YjsqjnIAIDGxHz20qKgye_8cj8sjQMKX75Mynvk9anSz3zahrjXLwD5W-Doe1OBo1dJOfOwsr4/s1600/DSCN2825+-+Sandstone+Heart+II+-+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UFjCCN8GYX_GwwXNDr4Xbn8Ahn1JdLj4iWRgnOHcIUIR_MseSP9uR_LQckSr8IgNS5YjsqjnIAIDGxHz20qKgye_8cj8sjQMKX75Mynvk9anSz3zahrjXLwD5W-Doe1OBo1dJOfOwsr4/s1600/DSCN2825+-+Sandstone+Heart+II+-+Square.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandstone Heart II </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7rSXsjeiCBUXCscq8-nFILUsAtnLBPKHi9k5M1gXJlnNIxZf76WnFoKjX_ofxwbEDvNs1BvjHXe2A4aVSfMMvl_J445KmA0b5bVjMcuAE6ZJMp54zqhQwPG391dyPkH_XxlTR8sQQWKdR/s1600/DSCN2842+-+Version+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7rSXsjeiCBUXCscq8-nFILUsAtnLBPKHi9k5M1gXJlnNIxZf76WnFoKjX_ofxwbEDvNs1BvjHXe2A4aVSfMMvl_J445KmA0b5bVjMcuAE6ZJMp54zqhQwPG391dyPkH_XxlTR8sQQWKdR/s1600/DSCN2842+-+Version+3.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stone Heart</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVihNDY8uQ6BORMZOm2evlc_ZlLfgD7xQSucm99e4-myY26vlmzBDEiq4i75u77sDWg9JUSEaYLZsUBTMqe2JfasqCcb5HTiSHJBXYtcU0ucT9nGIQxv4YCTGDwt4MCI4f6XcrJYDFRxoj/s1600/DSCN6413+-+Square+-+watermarked.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVihNDY8uQ6BORMZOm2evlc_ZlLfgD7xQSucm99e4-myY26vlmzBDEiq4i75u77sDWg9JUSEaYLZsUBTMqe2JfasqCcb5HTiSHJBXYtcU0ucT9nGIQxv4YCTGDwt4MCI4f6XcrJYDFRxoj/s1600/DSCN6413+-+Square+-+watermarked.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Urban Heart</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglO5RENEhMVvJa_0THwET930drfOO2NjTa3AsRXT4Zs-4HPtriravfAHQBQWDt2Wp5bfmQ7HOPIXTCe4-or7ownAk3qr1aNIw82o0MLYNXPIhKqDJL4nnuoGVL-qP_VIpaJNHYHEB1TNmG/s1600/Blue+Valentine+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglO5RENEhMVvJa_0THwET930drfOO2NjTa3AsRXT4Zs-4HPtriravfAHQBQWDt2Wp5bfmQ7HOPIXTCe4-or7ownAk3qr1aNIw82o0MLYNXPIhKqDJL4nnuoGVL-qP_VIpaJNHYHEB1TNmG/s1600/Blue+Valentine+Square.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue Valentine<br /><br /><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Blowing little kisses your way, I wish you hearts filled with loving kindness, passion and joy. All the best, E. England</span></td></tr>
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<br />Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-63388667035575771742014-01-30T12:51:00.000-08:002014-01-30T12:52:22.910-08:00Strange Attractions...<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oi1p7rVlLhtLqIOfNn_6VDiAMjmzJCuaYujTWQcyr4vC0t1ZN6JjFFMzPvX9V5GbntCvaBO4iDdr7sn1DKjsKrfFAoEnWBs5EUV8Wfx2arPPZCgfOtrIldCH4Rxdws9VsCCzkWaz8mjj/s1600/DSCN6303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oi1p7rVlLhtLqIOfNn_6VDiAMjmzJCuaYujTWQcyr4vC0t1ZN6JjFFMzPvX9V5GbntCvaBO4iDdr7sn1DKjsKrfFAoEnWBs5EUV8Wfx2arPPZCgfOtrIldCH4Rxdws9VsCCzkWaz8mjj/s1600/DSCN6303.jpg" height="200" width="142" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Some things are little mysteries. Like my somewhat strange attraction to the carved wooden figures of Native Americans that can be found outside of cigar stores or in high end antique shops.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">They have an interesting history. T</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">obacco was introduced to remarkably ungrateful</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">early visitors to Virginia by Native Americans and as the fondness -- or craving -- for tobacco took hold, the two became entwined.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">In England, small counter-top sized wooden carvings of Indians appeared in the early to mid 1700’s. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> L</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">ife-sized “Cigar store indians” have been around in the U.S. since the early 1800’s.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Some are elegantly carved, others are more crude, but at a time when many were illiterate they clearly marked a shop as one carrying tobacco products. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Like the large carved wooden signs depicting eyeglasses, the ubiquitous red and white striped barber shop pole and the over-sized key of the locksmith, these hand carved and brightly painted figures were effective advertising.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">They were also, for the most part, inaccurate, as many of the craftsmen had never seen a Native American during careers</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> working in shipyards carving fantastical mastheads of buxom babes for wooden sailing ships. As steamships made their debut in the 1800's, craftsmen turned their skills to advertising and imagination.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">To some, they are understandably controversial figures, but they evoke a tenderness in me I don’t really understand. I see so much in their weathered and worn, aged-by-time faces, in their costume and in their stance — each one looks as though it wants to tell me a story. Here’s a small collection of some I’ve noticed and photographed. What do you see in them?</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0rYbcV0lE7JnnWPYpOqRRT6OxOUKJMk6n1r4YsPXos35wpwTw0nAr9hqbAN_gKnyk_n68Q_Lx8nkOuX8d5dyf0nlqdM3_aOlvzkEfOxd6HYaQGoW3qbf6cec4rCQjjuWH9S0TSSDMqEy/s1600/DSCN1202+-+5x7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0rYbcV0lE7JnnWPYpOqRRT6OxOUKJMk6n1r4YsPXos35wpwTw0nAr9hqbAN_gKnyk_n68Q_Lx8nkOuX8d5dyf0nlqdM3_aOlvzkEfOxd6HYaQGoW3qbf6cec4rCQjjuWH9S0TSSDMqEy/s1600/DSCN1202+-+5x7.jpg" height="640" width="451" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson Hole, WY</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0LnmgmSVwxXdj_VJQA6_ESeQvv320TFGBvsD_Gj1OCWHgBF-ZKj2oiHmerzpmtGzLQRxKIVNMIZ52y6DToOOdcqkaWHh_7i7A5acaZQTZN-bEguJTXDxgdYbifBEfHdV5_Lwn1UGtJNJ/s1600/DSCN1203+-+5x7+desat..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0LnmgmSVwxXdj_VJQA6_ESeQvv320TFGBvsD_Gj1OCWHgBF-ZKj2oiHmerzpmtGzLQRxKIVNMIZ52y6DToOOdcqkaWHh_7i7A5acaZQTZN-bEguJTXDxgdYbifBEfHdV5_Lwn1UGtJNJ/s1600/DSCN1203+-+5x7+desat..jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson Hole, WY</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_-d8QpQ_dFhF-pe7keAMdc70KfMYfNVoQMzDl5YUZDaXNv0obprI5FhfrUmgKbNux_OUoanJDZ_ikRHdJ4dyEMr0ku9QbgoQUw15MCvm5vFAT66cM3xe3fQIVmSSShIMH3NgO2NNez5V/s1600/DSCN2128+-+5x7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_-d8QpQ_dFhF-pe7keAMdc70KfMYfNVoQMzDl5YUZDaXNv0obprI5FhfrUmgKbNux_OUoanJDZ_ikRHdJ4dyEMr0ku9QbgoQUw15MCvm5vFAT66cM3xe3fQIVmSSShIMH3NgO2NNez5V/s1600/DSCN2128+-+5x7.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NYC</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwIVhnvbDjeGfHXgnzYWSYHPWLcG9W3zqYnEvsgjOYt5D0z_RQuq3kB42qSL78wNdl88fmSvt0mTIIxXi8Jjvjk5gsitAih3DUBOx8kkWbREMZcOPsZ6aO9u4CprTUH0p6u9_QdNzUg2ce/s1600/DSCN2390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwIVhnvbDjeGfHXgnzYWSYHPWLcG9W3zqYnEvsgjOYt5D0z_RQuq3kB42qSL78wNdl88fmSvt0mTIIxXi8Jjvjk5gsitAih3DUBOx8kkWbREMZcOPsZ6aO9u4CprTUH0p6u9_QdNzUg2ce/s1600/DSCN2390.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Washington, DC</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPRiLGeCKW55zZKsN2zuKxzmEw7iZAnM8PQ0cf5_5fbKPmY7rqyIy8SjrZWBSwbGAnxEqnlTG7cv2svd3BErC6VwQ4VJFYn_THuqhnBh5vRV_obEr7L8k-4B7ROX2l7Z7keklXnZL3Z3oi/s1600/DSCN6416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPRiLGeCKW55zZKsN2zuKxzmEw7iZAnM8PQ0cf5_5fbKPmY7rqyIy8SjrZWBSwbGAnxEqnlTG7cv2svd3BErC6VwQ4VJFYn_THuqhnBh5vRV_obEr7L8k-4B7ROX2l7Z7keklXnZL3Z3oi/s1600/DSCN6416.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Philadelphia, PA<br />
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Lots of interesting things catch my eye. Come visit my shop<br />
www.ninedragons.etsy.com<br />
Or follow me here:<br />
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/ninedragonsphotography<br />
Twitter https://twitter.com/ninedragons9<br />
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Thanks for stopping by. E. England<br />
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-59994200468033028612014-01-09T07:08:00.001-08:002014-01-11T13:33:07.434-08:00Reflections of 2013<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Wanderlust should have been my middle name.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I love to travel, whether out in nature hiking on my own two feet, carrying everything sufficient for three or four days or in cities large and small.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because the cities require little planning and there is far less to carry, I explore them often.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Looking back at a collection of thousands of images taken over the year, I have become aware that I am attracted to shop windows.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I love the challenge of the reflective quality, each image becomes as much about what is or isn’t captured in reflection as what is on display in the window.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Here are some of my favorites.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGs4Zu5W4atHFGgLb1wdmWKGe2uprJCELlGc0pCvZAB2wfrUVIWcgzHZBr2yppXiCCHj54XZ6zY0_v50zQ7gzGbKqf6DJYjruQIMhij-kO3FQCQ7JPYOgbXc7Gg7ilbGYJF6E0SEkAagt/s1600/DSCN5365+-+Square+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGs4Zu5W4atHFGgLb1wdmWKGe2uprJCELlGc0pCvZAB2wfrUVIWcgzHZBr2yppXiCCHj54XZ6zY0_v50zQ7gzGbKqf6DJYjruQIMhij-kO3FQCQ7JPYOgbXc7Gg7ilbGYJF6E0SEkAagt/s1600/DSCN5365+-+Square+(1).jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ames, IA</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZk9SCNYutsI0ANgJtsvATI8taAuwA4doCe_KrVkFe1zQimCBK0ILZoNRxhJk3a4H7Sa0ltrXQqQbb9-JO9v1UV2pTzEbSmCICARxTgpAMl4B3P7i_vz18cR5q1kqdrFeL7V4itBzyIeja/s1600/DSCN1973+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZk9SCNYutsI0ANgJtsvATI8taAuwA4doCe_KrVkFe1zQimCBK0ILZoNRxhJk3a4H7Sa0ltrXQqQbb9-JO9v1UV2pTzEbSmCICARxTgpAMl4B3P7i_vz18cR5q1kqdrFeL7V4itBzyIeja/s1600/DSCN1973+-+Version+2.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">San Francisco, Mission District</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw0TbwXi8SFolD2kIL-F3xqbPn-gX1rw-H0STaTs6RF77lLmH-i2UAtwyuAwFMmN2QdLpUo8LtNkTgNgipscbtJ-cT1rT-VbklIgrVAwpr2YO0L5H13ADP909acwsg5LMN6TwSBoX-J9sE/s1600/DSCN0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw0TbwXi8SFolD2kIL-F3xqbPn-gX1rw-H0STaTs6RF77lLmH-i2UAtwyuAwFMmN2QdLpUo8LtNkTgNgipscbtJ-cT1rT-VbklIgrVAwpr2YO0L5H13ADP909acwsg5LMN6TwSBoX-J9sE/s1600/DSCN0005.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">New York, NY</span> </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzHV6ax5jvq7XJqZWZNgEVSNN5nCU3NI2w1RXauD3kflegptqZkmH1NyvKAq_LHWIHZO7HVDp-VqxFKPu_Dn6YWmqNrpuJuCXyFJ2YSFNpO5OyQdVaFY83b4ou6Z3TllQVcausoZKMsJ5/s1600/DSCN0050+-+Version+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzHV6ax5jvq7XJqZWZNgEVSNN5nCU3NI2w1RXauD3kflegptqZkmH1NyvKAq_LHWIHZO7HVDp-VqxFKPu_Dn6YWmqNrpuJuCXyFJ2YSFNpO5OyQdVaFY83b4ou6Z3TllQVcausoZKMsJ5/s1600/DSCN0050+-+Version+3.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">New York, NY</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIbdIb_LKIvzto9M-7WWo5-OXdO7qPMlo2K1VrigTo7JS3UClGC6MsSJnvvN9-DPjP3XLuIa3E3ZWaL93Ln9Hqsp3kM6ZXdE34OZRs1esIqe_9kDZ4_VbxNCuXyLd1jnf8LuxYsDzPLZs/s1600/DSCN2064+-+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIbdIb_LKIvzto9M-7WWo5-OXdO7qPMlo2K1VrigTo7JS3UClGC6MsSJnvvN9-DPjP3XLuIa3E3ZWaL93Ln9Hqsp3kM6ZXdE34OZRs1esIqe_9kDZ4_VbxNCuXyLd1jnf8LuxYsDzPLZs/s1600/DSCN2064+-+Square.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Philadelphia, PA</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbZC80sYcccRV5ZpOsU6gEgcF4TLk_-oSNE46M6q-OiNGesJsQ1K05Ic9PTfSmyBElHoBj2v3Q5j-R8YKF-fo6ADkIWvSxLskWOlKhol1xGItGIFu54YpU3gru-VHx9f2FV6soFV45YRN/s1600/DSCN0112+-+5x7+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbZC80sYcccRV5ZpOsU6gEgcF4TLk_-oSNE46M6q-OiNGesJsQ1K05Ic9PTfSmyBElHoBj2v3Q5j-R8YKF-fo6ADkIWvSxLskWOlKhol1xGItGIFu54YpU3gru-VHx9f2FV6soFV45YRN/s1600/DSCN0112+-+5x7+(1).jpg" height="400" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kansas City Plaza</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgactODYpd5ZS1fUdHlwGee9FqVuu1Z_1etIYwMY07zbo6vAoLqNQfrEyy7sqCiv290UFXkUNnpWFb-ixoS8BY2FBkyeq24s9X8-WiW8S7yL77Z7f0HS49XqirCOPEKZPdpQj68_Ztsw_Ae/s1600/DSCN0086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgactODYpd5ZS1fUdHlwGee9FqVuu1Z_1etIYwMY07zbo6vAoLqNQfrEyy7sqCiv290UFXkUNnpWFb-ixoS8BY2FBkyeq24s9X8-WiW8S7yL77Z7f0HS49XqirCOPEKZPdpQj68_Ztsw_Ae/s1600/DSCN0086.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">New York, NY</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfV3Xnl2olvusJa0SWjNH9N7A5Jhyphenhyphen_3UpZnHS8Wnyni5E0bUaVWVmmbhOmB0ZqVsLrBQskUKvmzjUyT5vhhf_MQlxZ3zKRTfgzpP8tLN1jP0idwgNN-qHN9x1uLv-2lITTMH8J_7EDO1U/s1600/DSCN4031+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfV3Xnl2olvusJa0SWjNH9N7A5Jhyphenhyphen_3UpZnHS8Wnyni5E0bUaVWVmmbhOmB0ZqVsLrBQskUKvmzjUyT5vhhf_MQlxZ3zKRTfgzpP8tLN1jP0idwgNN-qHN9x1uLv-2lITTMH8J_7EDO1U/s1600/DSCN4031+(1).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Philadelphia, PA</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptEDKIyGaXOExlPgOeQ8ylfAqTsEKejDWAgcsLta5vhUbZLnmoPAHEtGynsphwKIRk0PmLj5vPzBKnhr2-t1fxYCT4eR2EFzu0QA0kjP9fezzW4j2-TyMt7ID2b3-UliMJDzmgBBG8VeP/s1600/DSCN2388+-+Version+2+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptEDKIyGaXOExlPgOeQ8ylfAqTsEKejDWAgcsLta5vhUbZLnmoPAHEtGynsphwKIRk0PmLj5vPzBKnhr2-t1fxYCT4eR2EFzu0QA0kjP9fezzW4j2-TyMt7ID2b3-UliMJDzmgBBG8VeP/s1600/DSCN2388+-+Version+2+(1).jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Washington, DC</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFNcikp3hWnH4c_CY1fhAqdCdlxqbftIXNMXwmSXmOo_Plpj_QrDOAPoqqXLAp4yGaE98fpiPYSut3zM1O2gtXQedZAIf53YQPv26aLAdrFMw16wbx_M6BLlBvJ9UP6Cm4iEsSBXNRFkD/s1600/DSCN5337+-+Version+2+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFNcikp3hWnH4c_CY1fhAqdCdlxqbftIXNMXwmSXmOo_Plpj_QrDOAPoqqXLAp4yGaE98fpiPYSut3zM1O2gtXQedZAIf53YQPv26aLAdrFMw16wbx_M6BLlBvJ9UP6Cm4iEsSBXNRFkD/s1600/DSCN5337+-+Version+2+(1).jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Des Moines, IA</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIPxwJuPKPuc7co_bacgHu59Up8H2CSf-cjesxPOIoCQBGZQl20MovZ9GmW1N70lOqnap094WPgyrA7mNdRCINM9IqflmGcI01Zixi0BfHwcUTM0DkBn7iSbDHdE4KlXLrdIh-lqzKtUU/s1600/IMG_0406+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIPxwJuPKPuc7co_bacgHu59Up8H2CSf-cjesxPOIoCQBGZQl20MovZ9GmW1N70lOqnap094WPgyrA7mNdRCINM9IqflmGcI01Zixi0BfHwcUTM0DkBn7iSbDHdE4KlXLrdIh-lqzKtUU/s1600/IMG_0406+(1).jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Princeton, NJ</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I look forward to sharing my reflections of 2014 with you. Come find and follow me here:</span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-86570511771910153272014-01-05T16:17:00.000-08:002014-01-05T16:24:46.942-08:00Happy New Year: Do You Recognize These Antique Ornaments?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-E3v9lGUpoEz8DrNuwvFsYkSZZRnU1XvPWHv6hffUqzWxc6-mWFxcTRZJIkDISpl50x0yxF1nPK9OgZqyWzpDMDBsYeujMKqICqiU5QOj2dzbFiO-5vlQaEk4RXrFGSC9SyDjKcTvMxbH/s1600/DSCN6241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-E3v9lGUpoEz8DrNuwvFsYkSZZRnU1XvPWHv6hffUqzWxc6-mWFxcTRZJIkDISpl50x0yxF1nPK9OgZqyWzpDMDBsYeujMKqICqiU5QOj2dzbFiO-5vlQaEk4RXrFGSC9SyDjKcTvMxbH/s1600/DSCN6241.jpg" height="200" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 0px;">Our first big snow storm of the year hit on trash and recycling night this week and the City of Philadelphia (which is not known for it’s multi-talking skills) has thoughtfully given us a week-long reprieve for taking down the Christmas tree and provided me with some time to tell you a little story.</span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My husband and I had friends over for pre-dinner and post-dinner cocktails one night during the Holidays. Mid-way through the post-dinner cocktails, one charming pal squinted at the tree from across the room and wondered aloud about several ornaments. He wondered because they looked…well, vaguely familiar — in fact — oh my goodness, didn’t his very own family have the same ornaments, long-forgotten in someone’s attic?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNUohUBKdazOnG1US-bXQ3WElYdZJDpW8S7ZMX7x3Ze4rdP7nHGP91HA-abwT57AwoImV022bOpuaA6V2NbiIUWor4PLpPCKT91v96E5lfVhEaIOWmkvlHK7JIwSVUbFneqX_Nq8aj1xx5/s1600/DSCN6337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNUohUBKdazOnG1US-bXQ3WElYdZJDpW8S7ZMX7x3Ze4rdP7nHGP91HA-abwT57AwoImV022bOpuaA6V2NbiIUWor4PLpPCKT91v96E5lfVhEaIOWmkvlHK7JIwSVUbFneqX_Nq8aj1xx5/s1600/DSCN6337.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Nothing unusual in that you may be thinking, there are millions of ornaments made every year. What is she going on about? But each of these ornaments was handmade by myself or one of my immediate family members. There are nineteen of them (ornaments, not family members) and they hung from our family tree for many, many years.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdoA_jT1O-Rno7bjhvhjmLFhIpDP2gPUrkppZPfQlLoiTTSiWdpFPQIO27qEcuG1OE7nNg5dtilq8Ls4flWz9zgGbeKZc8-najyXLP0IkbAPuh5cfFJI3oaCcxqr0pi3gbdVmWe7yCKyIw/s1600/DSCN6335+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdoA_jT1O-Rno7bjhvhjmLFhIpDP2gPUrkppZPfQlLoiTTSiWdpFPQIO27qEcuG1OE7nNg5dtilq8Ls4flWz9zgGbeKZc8-najyXLP0IkbAPuh5cfFJI3oaCcxqr0pi3gbdVmWe7yCKyIw/s1600/DSCN6335+(1).jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In the early 70’s, for several years in a row, my mom had the idea to whip up a batch of plaster, pour it into plastic molds and, once dried, pop out a variety of ornaments for the four of us to paint while gathered around the dinner table in the evenings. There is a trumpet blowing angel, a fish, a candle, a peacock, three wise men, a Santa, the head of a snowman, a Christmas tree, a wreath, a Christmas stocking that says Noel, a gingerbread man and two “ornament” shapes. There used to be a funny little, sperm-shaped, baby Jesus, but I think he may have been over-looked one year and taken out to the curb with the tree after Christmas. I’ve looked everywhere and he is not to be found. It’s our very own mystery of the baby Jesus — I suppose we should have put a little tracking device on him like they do in public nativity scenes now because the baby Jesus is so often stolen.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The history behind these ornaments is not unlike a Davis Sedaris tale. Such a wholesome, family-bonding project for the four of us, wouldn’t you think? But my dad had always had one-too-many martinis and my mom was Martha Stewart before there was Martha Stewart - expecting nothing short of perfection in all things large and small. My brother and I were sullen and resentful of the extended time around the table, cruelly separated from our friends. I remember a year when my boyfriend sat in with us, but his artistic skills were deemed unacceptable by ‘Martha Stewart’ and he was not invited back. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Nevertheless, as I pack each one away, I smile to remember a time spent together laughing, bickering, competing and decorating. They are fragile bits of plaster, glitter and gold that represent our bonds of love and disfunction as well as a somewhat creative family gene pool.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In almost 30 years of Holiday gatherings, before last week, exactly <i>no one</i> had recognized or remembered these ornaments. I had come to believe my tiny family, alone in the universe, had thought to decorate small plaster ornaments for Christmas. Now it appears there were others. Do you recognize them? If you’re old enough, perhaps you and your own family decorated little ornaments just like these? The thought of a larger community of us — each with their own sacred, crazy-family tales to tell — thoroughly warms my heart.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Happy New Year, </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">E. England</span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-60925869826461656252013-12-02T13:33:00.001-08:002013-12-02T13:33:26.668-08:00Not Another Tie...Not Another Pair of Earrings<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It’s not that I have anything against ties and earrings…I’m a big fan of both.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I’ve been known to dip into my collection of vintage men’s ties and channel some Diane Keaton as Annie Hall style.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> Geez</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">, it’s only the first paragraph and I’m already wandering off track.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Back to my point, which is creative gift ideas:</span></div>
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The last of the leftover turkey is nearly gone and my thoughts have turned toward Christmas and gift giving. My solemn vow this year? I will not give another tie…nor another pair of earrings. This year, I will stretch my imagination and vow to keep it fresh. This year I’m dipping into my very own Etsy shop for a little inspiration. <br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">You know I’m a photographer, right?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">With a shop on Etsy — here’s the link www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragons.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Last week as I explained to a potential customer why photography makes lovely, unexpected gifts, it occurred to me that I should really be taking my own advice and I’ve added a handful of my images to the pile of gifts for several people on my list.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">If you’re not familiar with Etsy, it’s a global marketplace with Sellers both large and small offering vintage, hand-crafted and unique items for sale. Perfect for unique gift-giving and definitely my kind of place. I’ve purchased fantastic items from Greece, Italy, Canada, Japan as well as from shops right here within the United States. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So now for those gift ideas…</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyEy4UA68qvidr_nnpen8i1LMSfNRiSs0ivUFgMYnIgCWPRp09NhrzBos1cmwr5SUHbCmd-EABOevetoOsG8B_H0iceC1IBLrMZNWPwJ7Pnu7r_uxQAM1RZygdBT4cE8UDiHGLPJT5-Bd2/s1600/DSCN6081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyEy4UA68qvidr_nnpen8i1LMSfNRiSs0ivUFgMYnIgCWPRp09NhrzBos1cmwr5SUHbCmd-EABOevetoOsG8B_H0iceC1IBLrMZNWPwJ7Pnu7r_uxQAM1RZygdBT4cE8UDiHGLPJT5-Bd2/s320/DSCN6081.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My mom is a writer of notes. Birthday notes, how-are-you notes, thank you notes, condolence notes and here’s-something-that-made-me-think-of-you notes. She doesn’t want anything, she’s at that stage of her life where she’s getting rid of all of her stuff. So this year I’m giving her gift certificates for her favorite restaurant and notecards since she’s always running out. I had a batch specially printed for her using images I took the last time I visited, which I know she’ll love. I’ve just listed a series notecards in my shop that include images from Italy, Chicago, Philadelphia and some Urban Graffiti shots. They’re packaged up really pretty too and ready to gift.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My brother and I are polar opposites and I never know what to get him. Ever. He’s got a big heart and is very sentimental and as his big sister I can say that I find his decor sadly lacking, so this year he’s getting - framed up and everything, mind you - a large photograph of a vintage Mobil Oil pegasus sign. I found it in a coffee shop out in California, but they wouldn’t sell it to me, so this is the next best thing. Our dad worked at Mobil Oil all of his life and we miss him every day. Perfect. Masculine, colorful, and a personal connection to the image.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Spoiler Alert for my husband: Don’t read this if you want to be surprised when you open one of your presents this year. I may be biased of course, but my husband has very good taste in art — we collect it together when we travel. So, when he says he loves one of my images (wise man), I’m honored. He’s asked me several times (a patient man as well) for one of my Abraham Lincoln images for his office and I’ve been something like the painter who never manages to get his own home painted…so this year, Mr. Lincoln it is. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We really loved the movie with Daniel Day Lewis that came out earlier this year too. So. Perfect. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWLtdDYRtwaWJ97uWpnbhFkWmHl-D-YoXZAkXYfV39eCZW-1zvs6O8-bfboPlVBa4ck12sNB-2DDW8pigoYsYExR0yEK_K56CdjyBcFn53I-zd48LtGvRb_qy9sanyGW1kPK0xUPCQjLFR/s1600/DSCN1474+-+Lincoln+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWLtdDYRtwaWJ97uWpnbhFkWmHl-D-YoXZAkXYfV39eCZW-1zvs6O8-bfboPlVBa4ck12sNB-2DDW8pigoYsYExR0yEK_K56CdjyBcFn53I-zd48LtGvRb_qy9sanyGW1kPK0xUPCQjLFR/s200/DSCN1474+-+Lincoln+Square.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyD2mwtqHFHj1dgs_bVEOW5sMptmXrmIOq2J8FZe-ox_a2Rq4kZCXlEpROZDp1RR9NByZLhyZLJoD7F5ztzm10gBfBOlXFsaR55HnXdsHQExK4ikEHp8HXRiCF3RwR3VwQIsf5iNCbJcjB/s1600/DSCN1476+-+Lincoln+Eagle+5x7+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyD2mwtqHFHj1dgs_bVEOW5sMptmXrmIOq2J8FZe-ox_a2Rq4kZCXlEpROZDp1RR9NByZLhyZLJoD7F5ztzm10gBfBOlXFsaR55HnXdsHQExK4ikEHp8HXRiCF3RwR3VwQIsf5iNCbJcjB/s200/DSCN1476+-+Lincoln+Eagle+5x7+(1).jpg" width="141" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Here’s my A. Lincoln and the companion American Eagle image — I like them together — maybe he’ll get both.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">My friends and pals read my blog…so that’s all I’m saying for now. Stop by my shop and wander around — think outside the box — be original, be creative. It’s so much fun! Easy too, since you can opt for gift wrapping for a nominal </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">charge and make your Holidays that much easier. Enjoy your December…it only comes once each year. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">All my very best wishes to you,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">E. England</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragons">www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragons</a></span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-70044395477504689092013-10-01T07:56:00.001-07:002013-10-01T07:56:58.783-07:00Nature & Inspiration<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc9F_JwQK1FSIW7KBUU5m85HR4kV-XPPZP-h5i1IlmUpDr4ZxUAahng6ZBVYGrQOtBAvWg20N8DURRyLyutjzrCw2DxfjEIM0y75euHNx1j142r1KbkJNVVnDSQ66XgXwnIqyMUgfX3RZ0/s1600/IMG_0212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc9F_JwQK1FSIW7KBUU5m85HR4kV-XPPZP-h5i1IlmUpDr4ZxUAahng6ZBVYGrQOtBAvWg20N8DURRyLyutjzrCw2DxfjEIM0y75euHNx1j142r1KbkJNVVnDSQ66XgXwnIqyMUgfX3RZ0/s200/IMG_0212.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpGtGCkMroxUcfBKFbyvrptds3Je-mElx0kBKuEmS_gWDPKeVbORlPbdpHVHu8tZNzSIrfRptlGw-j5kGyT0QtiuQUdHEOT-x1r98zdmtOs81VekdyjECW4zXhKBOg8PAQ1lVZyWviDL7f/s1600/DSCN5170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpGtGCkMroxUcfBKFbyvrptds3Je-mElx0kBKuEmS_gWDPKeVbORlPbdpHVHu8tZNzSIrfRptlGw-j5kGyT0QtiuQUdHEOT-x1r98zdmtOs81VekdyjECW4zXhKBOg8PAQ1lVZyWviDL7f/s200/DSCN5170.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Fall has just begun and already I’m seeing subtle shifts in the nature activity all around me. In late August the waters of the Eastern Shore of Maryland were teeming with brilliant blue crabs which we greedily gobbled up one day for lunch along with frosty cold beer. A little turtle made an appearance along with caterpillars and an emerald green frog. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGDHtBOLibLhIqalvcbzS0RDQ2O-PT9VYJtB0Kw82hZ_O1EVkqT7vkILELtnTrOrx9OVcsbA5Fc-MZN1QPpprR72PfIOe_mGRUHu9QSZc3TghUT4wI66ksUNK8sI-K0szMLXC8bWRKU73d/s1600/DSCN5215+Castle+&+Gardens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGDHtBOLibLhIqalvcbzS0RDQ2O-PT9VYJtB0Kw82hZ_O1EVkqT7vkILELtnTrOrx9OVcsbA5Fc-MZN1QPpprR72PfIOe_mGRUHu9QSZc3TghUT4wI66ksUNK8sI-K0szMLXC8bWRKU73d/s200/DSCN5215+Castle+&+Gardens.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Traveling in the midwest in mid-September, I saw more hummingbirds in one small suburban garden than I’ve seen combined over my lifetime -- unfortunately, they were much too fast for me and my camera, so I’ve included a photo of a fantastical castle and garden instead. They were made by two blond faeries I know and love. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Several hours of driving through some of the most beautiful farm land you can imagine took me back to Minnesota where I was born and then into Wisconsin.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">While I was there, catching up with some of my favorite people on the planet, I was lucky to see some pampered koi in a cool, shaded pond and happy chickens keeping a low profile to avoid the sharp eyes of ever present eagles. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Speaking of eagles and sharp eyes...did you know that eagles can see something the size of a rabbit more than three miles away?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;">I didn’t, b</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;">ut I learned that and lots of other cool things when I visited the National Eagle Center in Wabasha, Minnesota to get up close and personal with the five rescued eagles in residence there.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;"> Y</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;">ou know how sometimes, when you meet someone for the first time, it feels like you’ve known one another forever?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;">That’s how I felt when I gazed into Angel’s golden eyes for a long moment.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;">There was a current of connection between us that I’ll remember for a very long time.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXJs5z1OyeaLc_Eh8d0v5X3JfShPzH54rMTHFujnmi-ql00uh5Tbx94_5iuv5T6Q06lcVWd18OYQXbpxvtR7nYwsvjXGtuL6VoCvG2v07lav8xcQCdMdHt8D18_Ac3C0HO1b-jJnWvpiu/s1600/DSCN5378.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXJs5z1OyeaLc_Eh8d0v5X3JfShPzH54rMTHFujnmi-ql00uh5Tbx94_5iuv5T6Q06lcVWd18OYQXbpxvtR7nYwsvjXGtuL6VoCvG2v07lav8xcQCdMdHt8D18_Ac3C0HO1b-jJnWvpiu/s320/DSCN5378.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">On our final morning, on the way to the airport...one of the eagles that rules the wide open sky near my cousin’s home saw us along our way as she (or he) sat at the tippy top of an old, bare Halloween sort of tree spying out over the cornfields and countryside -- maybe looking for breakfast. </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Now that I’m back home on the East Coast, I’m keeping an eye out for the monarch butterflies that will begin their southern migration soon, the little owl that sometimes hangs out in our pine tree and a fast red fox that travels in the sand dunes...wish me luck.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I hope you’re enjoying </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">the Fall season.</span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-8008219316534043752013-09-10T15:51:00.000-07:002013-09-10T15:51:41.667-07:00Rituals & Remembering<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The town where I live for a large part of the year feels like a 1950‘s Mayberry time warp much of the time. It’s a small shore town in New Jersey with a five mile wooden boardwalk featuring two amusement parks in addition to a main street (called Asbury Avenue here) in the heart of town. The people at the post office know your name, as they do at the hardware store and in the restaurants and shops. People are nice -- they take their time -- they’re not overly fond of change. It's a dry town (no liquor served) due to early Methodist roots. Every few years some of us hope for just enough change to allow a glass of wine with dinner, but it gets shot down every time which may or may not be a good thing. It's very much a family sort of place.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Crime here consists mainly of “borrowed” bicycles which usually turn up at the other end of town within a day or so. People leave their doors unlocked here. I forgot and left the garage door open one time and was gone for two weeks. When I returned home, everything was exactly as I’d left it - bicycles, tools, a spare fridge full of beer and wine, half a dozen beach chairs. Amazing.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2yGFRmqH3NoWlu6z-Ydkl8Rd9rJTZ53Ude7qgEqIlhTQgU415MhzSY_ZJAkzbCOibzBueLIbVkXEgiKXvCIiysmqKphPTpSAGAnjmO2cHOL6VHAIgjngm5QUWS0HL_FeiXhZ-Gv5_tVZ/s1600/DSCN4996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2yGFRmqH3NoWlu6z-Ydkl8Rd9rJTZ53Ude7qgEqIlhTQgU415MhzSY_ZJAkzbCOibzBueLIbVkXEgiKXvCIiysmqKphPTpSAGAnjmO2cHOL6VHAIgjngm5QUWS0HL_FeiXhZ-Gv5_tVZ/s320/DSCN4996.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It gets a little crazy here in July and August when the vacationing hoards arrive and traffic is wacky with too many sun baked drivers and pedestrians zombified by long days at the beach and too much sugar. Summertime rituals are savored -- the smell of sunscreen, the sound of the lifeguard’s whistle, the dolphin that swim by about 9:00 a.m. each morning when I remember to pay attention. Gorilla Golf, the Ferris Wheel, the Log Ride at Wonderland Pier, the peanut-buster parfait at DQ and the daily screaming melt-down of a child on the boardwalk that always makes me smile and wonder what earth-shattering event has just occurred.</span></div>
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There is another daily ritual that takes place here during the high summer season. This particular tradition began eleven years ago tomorrow and occurs each morning at 9:20 a.m., weather permitting. It happens at the waterpark. I don’t completely understand the need for a waterpark in a beach town, given that it’s located approximately 20 yards from a huge, mostly blue ocean with real waves to ride, but here it is and it’s very popular. Out in front is Jimmy’s Hot Dog Stand and on top of Jimmy’s, two tall flag poles from which two, crisp American flags fly. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwltx6MYGoRUbGEW6WHmvBOQqUxBh5jg2pZwse239j1wuI8XhtcSMzV5kvXkP_pMnUeL5dj-_yAOWshaY5KAu7xk9oiIdR_6orwYqeUG0CgDHMBax6MwE4q3h3ZUpW9vll1aTKjvR0Z2lP/s1600/DSCN5014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwltx6MYGoRUbGEW6WHmvBOQqUxBh5jg2pZwse239j1wuI8XhtcSMzV5kvXkP_pMnUeL5dj-_yAOWshaY5KAu7xk9oiIdR_6orwYqeUG0CgDHMBax6MwE4q3h3ZUpW9vll1aTKjvR0Z2lP/s320/DSCN5014.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Each morning as a few dozen locals begin to gather and chat, a couple of young waterpark employees climb up a ladder to stand at the foot of each flag pole. Many mornings, a third gentleman stands with them, at attention. At 9:20 a.m. on the dot, a recording of Proud To Be An American by Lee Greenwood plays and walkers, runners, bicyclists and surrey riders gradually slow and then come to a stop, wondering what’s going on. The crowd gets bigger and then the National Anthem plays. It’s the version by LeAnn Rhimes. The two flags are raised slowly, simultaneously. Nearly all boardwalk traffic has now come to a halt...hats are removed, hands are held over hearts, war veterans in the crowd salute. It gets really quiet except for the music and the crashing of waves. The notes rise sharply near the end of the song at the word “free” and hold for a moment. The song ends - a rousing cheer goes up and suddenly the boardwalk is all animation and movement. Life goes on.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Rw0Q9x6HCHRkWe3tno0NPKQ46yNaHLsYU2Sswau_X5x9bCtGVOwxL3HOKTQbEILklITvjXeItgvX1nrI6fh1_G_qsN9x8W5WnZYX2-GPUEzP3yFC_QnBeg6hkLfhZs8RAkvTz1CDT2qw/s1600/DSCN5015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Rw0Q9x6HCHRkWe3tno0NPKQ46yNaHLsYU2Sswau_X5x9bCtGVOwxL3HOKTQbEILklITvjXeItgvX1nrI6fh1_G_qsN9x8W5WnZYX2-GPUEzP3yFC_QnBeg6hkLfhZs8RAkvTz1CDT2qw/s400/DSCN5015.jpg" width="284" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">If you've had your coffee and aren't too busy with your day, some of you may be doing the math and figuring out that we’re not too far from New York City here in my little town at the Jersey Shore. You may have had a little "aha" moment and understand the significance of two tall flagpoles as part of this ceremony. Eleven years is a long time, but remembering is important and they still know how to do things right in a small town when it comes to ritual and remembrance. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life Goes On<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">The daily flag raising ceremonies have ended for this season and the water park has closed - or will close soon I'm sure. I'm already looking forward to next summer when they begin again. </span><span style="font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">Wishing you your own special rituals and </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">remembrances. All the best,</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">Here’s a link to the National Anthem sung by LeAnn Rimes -- I think it needs to come with a hanky warning:</span><span style="font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBd5PL3ZsRc" style="font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #021eaa; letter-spacing: 0px;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBd5PL3ZsRc</span></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Gillian's Island Salutes America's Freedom Ceremony:</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Join us each morning this summer as our Team raises the American Flag for the day in tribute to America's freedom. This year will mark our 11th Season of performing the Flag Raising ceremony, and we are proud to continue on what has now become a tradition on the Ocean City Boardwalk. All of the details for the ceremony are listed below - if you find yourself up early and heading to the beach, stop by and pay respects to our great country with the Gillian's Water Park and Adventure Golf family!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>WHEN:</b> Daily from 9:20 am to 9:28 am.*</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>WHERE:</b> Out front of Jimmy's Hot Dogs and Gillian's Island Water Park on the Ocean City Boardwalk.</span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-17993254402807302562013-08-16T10:03:00.000-07:002013-08-16T10:03:20.251-07:00A Love Letter<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">This is a love letter of sorts. As is the case with nearly all of my blogs, this one begins as one thing; a celebration marking two years in business and ends up as another thing altogether; an acknowledgement of gratitude to the many who have helped me make it through these years of modest but steadily increasing success.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It’s important to celebrate milestones, not only because I love a good party, but also because a celebration helps me recognize what I’ve learned and experienced along the way. Marking a specific stage of progress acknowledges, in a heightened way, the work I’ve put in and the personal or professioal growth I have or have not achieved. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbPH0YRVHdhK7aLbNYGPYxkfPEtkUj6nOm7fZIDV31NVsAzzVbW00KOA6B4JAubBRa0q-2JYEueTv0gCPSMX45BLBrMoGDnXPy121dhdPmWjJP5Hu_mKswvVE2zUY4Uxffy2w1FfTq3bx/s1600/DSCN4196+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbPH0YRVHdhK7aLbNYGPYxkfPEtkUj6nOm7fZIDV31NVsAzzVbW00KOA6B4JAubBRa0q-2JYEueTv0gCPSMX45BLBrMoGDnXPy121dhdPmWjJP5Hu_mKswvVE2zUY4Uxffy2w1FfTq3bx/s320/DSCN4196+-+Version+2.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This month I celebrate my second year selling photography on Etsy. It’s been a major adventure that has stretched my brain in ways I could never have imagined. I finally fully mastered the computer - a beast I never thought to tame and made the leap from PC to Mac, which may have helped in the taming. Moving from film to digital -- something I swore would never be -- happened almost without my noticing. I’ve met and made amazing new friends -- many of whom I may never actually greet face to face, but who know a part of me better than some of my oldest, dearest friends. Each of these new friends is on a similar journey and each has shown a generosity that astounds me. They have helped me solve problems and maneuver hurdles. They’ve listened to me whine in my worst moments while pushing me to set goals and grow. They have each shared personal knowledge and expertise and best of all, they seem to want me to succeed almost as much as they want to succeed themselves. These new friends have been a very great gift.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7cydXPKECRqu1-fEuW0RJoWQK3G99XETNFVoXUACLrX459uahujOC9RMyshhZqS7LCmTL5vBGT-UycqNFkpy8G6GPoKjYBv0ZJsoZwcHWPLB4CjiMimN1x14OrBaJ7JpN8wgvmOozGiG-/s1600/Goddess+III+Hor+2.25x3.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7cydXPKECRqu1-fEuW0RJoWQK3G99XETNFVoXUACLrX459uahujOC9RMyshhZqS7LCmTL5vBGT-UycqNFkpy8G6GPoKjYBv0ZJsoZwcHWPLB4CjiMimN1x14OrBaJ7JpN8wgvmOozGiG-/s320/Goddess+III+Hor+2.25x3.25.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My lifelong family and friends have shown their support as well, of course. Offering advice and listening as I verbally think through various challenges, always offering emotional encouragement and support, waiting patiently by my side while I take ‘just one more’ photo. Some of my friends have become my best customers, coming back time after time to purchase my work. I don’t imagine they understand how much those purchases have meant to me as I strive to grow a small business and master the mysteries of search engine optimization -- also known as “getting found” in the massive shopping mall that is the internet. During dark moments when I doubted success -- and those moments came more often than I’d like to admit -- one of them would magically appear to make a purchase for themselves, or for a family member or friend. Each one of those sales provided enough encouragement to lift my spirits through what were sometimes months of scarcity as I continue my forward progress.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0lIbAyNcVGqePNzpKECAq0TxBtGK5TS9T-OSillViojiAo2bC4c28wwczgsX7P9a0FVYUu9Ebh2nLN9F7rMFkHxTDKWFS9-54KvKeF-JeFXTk1IhtfIfYaZImeh-ilHgluIxvsuONEJmo/s1600/Reflection+2.25x3.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0lIbAyNcVGqePNzpKECAq0TxBtGK5TS9T-OSillViojiAo2bC4c28wwczgsX7P9a0FVYUu9Ebh2nLN9F7rMFkHxTDKWFS9-54KvKeF-JeFXTk1IhtfIfYaZImeh-ilHgluIxvsuONEJmo/s320/Reflection+2.25x3.25.jpg" width="221" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Do you wonder why I’ve chosen sailboats to brighten my love letter? They were a wet, wild, exhilarating adventure to photograph and they represent a sample of my work, but they also visually represent my journey as I personally and professionally sail forward into bigger seas -- finding grander waves of adventure and discovery and occasional deep and scary troughs of rough water. The lesson I’m learning over and over is this; if I wait calmly and quietly for a little while - and try not to battle the current - the weather will clear and the sailing will be smooth once again. Giant leaps forward may be what I crave, but thousands of teeny tiny baby steps are my natural pace; the one that takes me where I’m headed if I can remember to be patient.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Michelangelo said something like this about sculpture: “Every block of stone has a statue inside and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.” That’s how I feel about the images I choose to offer for sale. If I can photograph the beauty I see around me in such a way that allows another to see it as well, then a lovely connection unites us; we are joined in a way both impersonal and personal. It’s like sharing a wonderful secret -- how better to delight in something treasured than to share that treasure with a friend?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So cheers and thanks to you my loved ones, my friends old and new and my customers past, present and future for your support and recognition of this glorious adventure into beauty that I call my business. Wondering where my sails will take me in the next two years...I hope you’ll be with me. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">With gratitude & love,</span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-67590572761200049512013-08-05T08:41:00.000-07:002013-08-05T08:59:17.357-07:00Farmers Market Freshness<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWm-lviDcckoabQqouN0IY24V4XhhHpgQnTC7m24smOif4mnC5i1aBwL520I1E5azgUX5feQdl64Bc_OP5L1LsVMfjjoK9OVBI0Qeukqb8m49zEdPgl11f1uu2mOKv0Cn3mfH0EJ4k9Kk/s1600/DSCN4251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWm-lviDcckoabQqouN0IY24V4XhhHpgQnTC7m24smOif4mnC5i1aBwL520I1E5azgUX5feQdl64Bc_OP5L1LsVMfjjoK9OVBI0Qeukqb8m49zEdPgl11f1uu2mOKv0Cn3mfH0EJ4k9Kk/s200/DSCN4251.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I spend my time in the City, most Sunday mornings will find me over at the Headhouse Square Farmers Market picking out fresh goodies for the week. Nearly every Sunday, it’s crazy jammed with shoppers and baby strollers and too many friendly dogs for the tight space. But it’s a mellow Sunday morning, right? The perfect opportunity for a zen experience surrounded by goodness grown locally.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is always some history to be shared when you’re in Philadelphia and the Headhouse Square market is no exception. The sturdy, picturesque structure is an outdoor Georgian “shed” originally built in 1745 for the same thing it’s used for today - to shelter merchants selling their wares. With arched open-sides made of brick, there is a “headhouse” at the north end which originally housed the master of the market (think quality control) and a firehouse which was added in the early 1800’s. A cupola topped by a weathervane sits on top and cobblestone streets border each side. The shed in this location, between Lombard and Pine streets, is known as the Shambles by locals and was restored in the 1960’s - it’s been in use off and on ever since.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQ1g8w0bbtYr34qM_sFuvkF6yE9mzE6TdcCANLPwHwTDQpsII7vYU2AzyW-EGnfPZn53tLiRXQfFK0qTz7vQM-zcBV0a5GumavCVHhygfXCtLsj3j7EdmzHiizUDH0WEXdoqrN8xgulFq/s1600/DSCN4264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQ1g8w0bbtYr34qM_sFuvkF6yE9mzE6TdcCANLPwHwTDQpsII7vYU2AzyW-EGnfPZn53tLiRXQfFK0qTz7vQM-zcBV0a5GumavCVHhygfXCtLsj3j7EdmzHiizUDH0WEXdoqrN8xgulFq/s200/DSCN4264.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During Summer and Fall weekends, tables are stacked high with local produce, cheeses, chocolates, fresh cut flowers, Alaskan-caught fish, fresh roasted coffee beans, breads and pastries, local honey and candles. There’s even a garden plant man who gives great advice on what to plant and where best to plant it. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZdK3EgwkdIRSxwVW1wj0q60pomTe3z14ZRGz10uIsy6VHj3JgJMVgKzoQMm6YSISfEe2AmOFVJfX8yaH9Bc3QKpM1SSTn0SViRC11fTgz3c65f5R_dTMJyvhpzZ3utOPCNXmC-ECFC_7z/s1600/DSCN4267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZdK3EgwkdIRSxwVW1wj0q60pomTe3z14ZRGz10uIsy6VHj3JgJMVgKzoQMm6YSISfEe2AmOFVJfX8yaH9Bc3QKpM1SSTn0SViRC11fTgz3c65f5R_dTMJyvhpzZ3utOPCNXmC-ECFC_7z/s400/DSCN4267.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">This week the beets looked amazing -- red, golden, orange -- and I started thinking it was time to whip up a couple of goat cheese and beet towers for a light summer salad.</span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ingredients: Four (4) medium size beets</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> One (1) small package of fresh goat cheese: herbed, plain or pepper</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Two (2) shallots, thinly sliced</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> One (1) bunch of red leaf lettuce, washed and patted dry</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Pine nuts (a handful or so)</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Olive Oil & local honey (enough to drizzle to taste)</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Boil or roast four medium size beets until tender. Any color you desire, or mix it up. Toast pine nuts over a medium heat until golden brown in a non-stick skillet - set aside to cool. After the beets have cooled, slip off the skins and slice into 1/2” slices. Gently tear red leaf lettuce and divide onto four salad plates. Lay the first beet slice on top of a lettuce bed, top with a very thin slice of goat cheese, add the next slice of beet (alternating colors makes a very pretty salad). Top each layer of beet with goat cheese. Keep going. One beet per plate. Add the shallots to the lettuce and drizzle each plate with olive oil and honey. Squeeze lemon juice over the lettuce to taste. Add fresh cracked pepper, salt and a sprinkle of toasted pine nuts. Enjoy. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What are you finding at your local farmers market? Even better, what are you cooking?</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Come visit my Etsy shop: <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragons"><span style="color: #021eaa; letter-spacing: 0px;">www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragons</span></a>. I hope to see you soon. Until then, enjoy your August.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Elizabeth</span></span><br />
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-31958320980553277902013-05-14T22:27:00.003-07:002013-05-15T06:45:21.076-07:00A Mermaid & An Evening Walk<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQHgMq_lGYaSubCZ3KYn69Tmn2iU2cAEBUQg4G8UuZ7g2LObzu0S3j2hEU6U56ux0bREGI1aV-rx1dV8sQjr7r_miDXFnzrgetYByOgCfXqvJrGygyy8C1TN609W-bPpA8xQStl-7PwCUT/s1600/DSCN3678+Patterns+-+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQHgMq_lGYaSubCZ3KYn69Tmn2iU2cAEBUQg4G8UuZ7g2LObzu0S3j2hEU6U56ux0bREGI1aV-rx1dV8sQjr7r_miDXFnzrgetYByOgCfXqvJrGygyy8C1TN609W-bPpA8xQStl-7PwCUT/s320/DSCN3678+Patterns+-+Square.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">This is the time of evening when the mermaids come out....I’m certain of it.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">As yet, </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I haven’t seen one, but I’m hopeful.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> Each evening, t</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">he beach empties and the sky turns a lovely milky-blue and so does the sea, tinged with gold or, on some evenings, deep shades of lavender and pink.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The wind usually picks up around 4:00-ish and blows for an hour or so whipping up whitecaps in the water and etching mesmerizing patterns in the sand.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Then...a stillness settles over everything for as far as the eye can see. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">As I walk along the water’s edge, I keep a casual look out for what I imagine will be the sudden flash and shimmer of a silvery blue-green forked tail as my conjured mermaid -- or merman -- slaps the surface of the water, showing off just a little for me.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKLqD5etAsLqwv3ErmV08OgMdRZp6lqke6ksUI3jkGkxK3Ln3r6EYrIV95KBfgcWPduwNFzuynI53tlkitXz9x_2ool2l-ENIfBQl739Pr5t5D0v4rIP6NlDcwbRsRTBZ1P5m2wsBS5o_/s1600/DSCN3675+Casting+Shadows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKLqD5etAsLqwv3ErmV08OgMdRZp6lqke6ksUI3jkGkxK3Ln3r6EYrIV95KBfgcWPduwNFzuynI53tlkitXz9x_2ool2l-ENIfBQl739Pr5t5D0v4rIP6NlDcwbRsRTBZ1P5m2wsBS5o_/s320/DSCN3675+Casting+Shadows.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Everyone knows that a forked tail makes for a swift swimmer. In fact, the deeper the fork, the faster the swimmer, but my mer-creature has paused mid-swim with a curiosity to match my own. Eying one another cautiously across the gently lapping waves, we'll nod hello - which is the polite thing to do after all and then continue, alone once more, on our terrestrial and aquatic locomotions. Each a little shivery with the bit of magic that has occurred; one walking barefooted in the damp, cooling sand leaving a trail of happy footprints, the other slipping smoothly through the water leaving no trace at all.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaTD18XF_kCHvNjiNLjxjgj7pFO3cgP-0j2vImfWTlX6NpKTMLB8Wyq-ccwsQ3tkNcO9Fcs0X9xxkiEKlcmD11JlpY0volbPikQxUQ6cAolClWiLyLeTTjieRGG2bmWi-mJC8LJt2_tdJ/s1600/DSCN3685+Seagull.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaTD18XF_kCHvNjiNLjxjgj7pFO3cgP-0j2vImfWTlX6NpKTMLB8Wyq-ccwsQ3tkNcO9Fcs0X9xxkiEKlcmD11JlpY0volbPikQxUQ6cAolClWiLyLeTTjieRGG2bmWi-mJC8LJt2_tdJ/s1600/DSCN3685+Seagull.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Here are a few photographs of what I <i>did</i> find this evening as I roamed the quiet beach. </span></div>
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1. Patterns in the Sand</div>
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2. Casting A Long Shadow</div>
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3. Seagull</div>
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4. Feather in the Sand</div>
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5. The Fence</div>
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Sign up to receive my none-to-regular blog posts -- I hope you'll share them as well. Visit my shop at www.ninedragons.etsy.com to see more of my photography. Wishing you magic wherever life finds you. E. England<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-78552440131437930262013-04-26T12:47:00.001-07:002013-05-12T14:47:48.862-07:00Lilacs. The Sense of Smell<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">For the sense of smell, almost more than any other, has the power to recall memories and it is a pity that we use it so little. – Rachel Carson</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lilacs. I would fill my home with them if I could -- all year round. There are none to be found at the market, but my neighbor has one that has burst into full bloom, filling the street with it’s heady scent. I make up excuses to step outside and wander over -- just to put my nose deep into the flowers and inhale. Mmm...better than any drug and so much finer than diamonds they are to me this morning. Their peppery sweet scent tells me that Spring has settled in for good and another Winter hibernation has ended. I want to dance with the joy that bubbles up inside. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday, late afternoon sun on the blooming flowers made quite a feast for the honey and bumble bees. I watched as they lazily buzzed, warm and looking a little drunk - drinking deeply from the floral cups, moving from one to the next, positively humming with giddy contentment.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This morning, I feel just like yesterday’s drunken bees as I sip my tea and attempt to form cohesive thoughts; engulfed in a scent that fairly numbs my brain -- from a few stolen lilac sprigs sitting in a small Ball jar filled with fresh water on my bedside table. A mourning dove has taken up a place in my brick-walled garden and croons to me through the window as I type. This is one of those magical moments to breathe in and savor, because in this moment, I feel an expansive stillness and am fully aware of my connection to all living things.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEra5Y5bBG5Iykkon5mNKtwbR0vq-Ms4i-2n-kQo9oPOM4LzA4HeOhVf3vI__rqOI1jxzyLpRMJQyhn9WPjsJJ7UDuGsOI4gAYyfTsc7DIqAJhd0V3_7DazF9-Tqv2VcgJQLJFf8fBnyRd/s1600/DSCN3415+Bee+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEra5Y5bBG5Iykkon5mNKtwbR0vq-Ms4i-2n-kQo9oPOM4LzA4HeOhVf3vI__rqOI1jxzyLpRMJQyhn9WPjsJJ7UDuGsOI4gAYyfTsc7DIqAJhd0V3_7DazF9-Tqv2VcgJQLJFf8fBnyRd/s320/DSCN3415+Bee+Square.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before the sun started to rise this morning, I tip-toed out the front door in full bed-head mode, still wearing my yellow and white check cotton pajamas, stopping long enough to wrap a scarf around my neck and slip into an old jean jacket that I keep by the front door before slinging my camera around my neck. Have you got the visual? Not a moment was to be wasted, so strongly was the near primal urge that drove me to be back among the lilacs. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ve read that smell is the oldest sense. A single scent can, in the blink of an eye, magically time-travel us to our fondest memories, our most embarrassing moments, our saddest times. This morning, the city was still quiet and when I closed my eyes I could <i>almost</i> feel green grass under my bare feet. In an instant, I was whisked all the way back to my grandmother’s garden on a beautiful, sunny, Kansas morning with the scent of lilac everywhere. My twinkling grandmother has been gone for many years and sadly, so is the sturdy, Craftsman-style cottage my grandfather built with his own hands. But I was there again this morning...dancing among the dewdrops with the fairies.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">Some photographs were stolen this morning from my neighbor’s garden as well -- I’ll slip one through his mail slot later, as payment for my thievery.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">I hope you enjoy them, please let me know if I can list one for you in my Etsy shop</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"> or just feel free to stop in and browse.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">Spring is such a lovely time to freshen up interior spaces and Mother’s Day is just around the corner.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"> P</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">hotography makes a perfect, rather unexpected gift.</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragons" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">https://www.etsy.com/shop/ninedragon</a><span style="color: #021eaa; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">s</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></span></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, close your eyes, conjure up the scent of lilac...where does it take <i>you</i>? </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">Wishing you the very best this Spring,</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">E. England</span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-48248055847786441702013-03-26T08:00:00.000-07:002013-03-26T22:45:46.025-07:00Say Goodbye -- The Great Graffiti Controversy<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Life is so very interesting.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Several weeks ago, I wrote about using architectural detail as a theme for my photography.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I’d planned this post as a sort of Part II -- to ramble a bit about the beauty and diversity of Street Art, Urban Art, Graffiti and Mural Art.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I’ll still do that, but I’ll be heading in a little different direction, because of something that occurred yesterday... </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVCae5_1sg0_8SoMqc5q6sem-i_gtNex6pT5t_OhhGJk8GMY6-UwOry3koLySyL-b23Uwd2LVgnVeISxlED_9s2rA31DPI7eolJowoMkDofLrkuWQzADRjtn9XE22rXLaGPv_yVf_tW09w/s1600/DSCN1985+-+Tiger+at+the+Door+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVCae5_1sg0_8SoMqc5q6sem-i_gtNex6pT5t_OhhGJk8GMY6-UwOry3koLySyL-b23Uwd2LVgnVeISxlED_9s2rA31DPI7eolJowoMkDofLrkuWQzADRjtn9XE22rXLaGPv_yVf_tW09w/s320/DSCN1985+-+Tiger+at+the+Door+Square.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">For years and years, the controversy over graffiti was “those damn kids” with their spray paint; defacing property, contributing to Urban blight and the general “moral corruption” of society. Writing that made me chuckle out loud, but I can recall my parents and their friends saying things exactly like that.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">If you read my blog, you’ll know I was raised up nice and healthy in the Midwest -- Kansas to be exact -- with room to roam and the freedom to do it. But I’ve been a city dweller now for a majority of my years and life in the city has shown me clearly that the definition of beauty is not the narrow, confined standard proscribed by society -- rather it is huge, unlimited -- sky high. It’s whatever we want it to be and it is constantly evolving.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When I travel with my camera, I nearly always choose a city where I can unpack my bags and roam on foot finding “my” coffee shop, “my” bookstore and “my” local bar to hang in as I begin exploring. Traveling on foot allows me to see who’s out on the streets with me, what they’re doing, what clothes they’re styling, how they maintain their homes, their trash, where they play, their music scene - it also lets me feel virtuously healthy burning a multitude of calories as I walk. Wandering around on foot also allows me to see so many of the details that disappear in a blur breezing along in a taxicab. Cherubs, lions, the face of a native american unexpectedly carved over a doorway and weird, wild, wonderful graffiti of all kinds.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Graffiti as an art form has evolved from the repeated signature scrawl of a name or “tag” and morphed into full fledged mural art by talented artists and biting political commentary like that of the now famous - or infamous - Banksy. The determination of graffiti artists hasn’t changed over the years, but their work has matured, becoming much more detailed and complex - very possibly because they don’t have to paint it on the run any longer. Graffiti - and street art have come to be appreciated as “real art” and its “ownership’ is being fought over on an international level including in auction houses. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Because it can disappear or be completely defaced in a moment, I’m drawn to document graffiti and mural art with my camera. While San Francisco, unlike the majority of U.S. cities, seems to embrace the work of its graffiti artists, here in Philly, it’s still painted over by city workers almost as soon as it’s painted...no matter how lovely. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZMBIJlwA9qHPwjDuwMLa7DVC5FUJr5vPiKMHQ6aOmHwndY6CtVD8w095EK279stslhwHNAJtHMBkO5bQVW8ketNK8SK9H_D-c3_7Agbe4Hu3_lCFuXoaRQ3-juylbQim522vcVulQjPb/s1600/DSCN1932+-+Flower+Tattoo+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZMBIJlwA9qHPwjDuwMLa7DVC5FUJr5vPiKMHQ6aOmHwndY6CtVD8w095EK279stslhwHNAJtHMBkO5bQVW8ketNK8SK9H_D-c3_7Agbe4Hu3_lCFuXoaRQ3-juylbQim522vcVulQjPb/s200/DSCN1932+-+Flower+Tattoo+Square.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When you take an interest in photography, you are drawn toward what the photographer has seen in any given moment in time. That moment - just like a snowflake - will never be recreated or captured identically again -- no matter what the subject. The light will never be exactly the same, another photographer will “see” the same view very differently, a month of sunshine will fade the pigment, each camera will capture the moment just “this much” differently - making it unique.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This is the place where I was going to talk about using graffiti and mural photography as a unique way to bring contemporary art and the feel of the city into your home or office, because I was feeling rather pleased with my little unofficial, one-woman Street Art - Graffiti Art - Mural Art Preservation Program. Instead, today I am preparing to pull some of my favorite images from my shop. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A San Francisco mural artist contacted me yesterday and asked me to remove my photographs of his work. It’s disappointing for a number of reasons -- chief among them? I was excited to share this art. The flip side though, whether legal, illegal or debatable is that I would be leaving a fellow artist feeling like his work had been stolen and that seems in poor taste...at the very least.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwK_bQsi4gBhK74etDYY7JOk2VxL9m2qBkcfJt-07tCFqxWgYVsUIuTSH1um5PmQJ7D0fmdqFfYYaRqb-g4dPfn3GQD000_h8lkKnwT_v_Fs7BD9Bz7gxC0Wu08cBAL2y1EKsZ7kMf-gwC/s1600/DSCN1964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwK_bQsi4gBhK74etDYY7JOk2VxL9m2qBkcfJt-07tCFqxWgYVsUIuTSH1um5PmQJ7D0fmdqFfYYaRqb-g4dPfn3GQD000_h8lkKnwT_v_Fs7BD9Bz7gxC0Wu08cBAL2y1EKsZ7kMf-gwC/s320/DSCN1964.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Conversation went back and forth a few times, I asked advice from several different sources to consolidate my thinking. Closing in pretty quickly on the undeniable fact that I would obviously remove my photos featuring his work as requested. Something had me unsettled and a little on edge though. It took me awhile, but I finally worked it out in the wee hours. The artist is convinced I willingly meant to do him harm. There seems to be no way to convince him otherwise -- he is certain I am evil. My offer to contribute proceeds to a Youth Mural Program or Mural Preservation Group of his choice were viewed as disingenuous, stated with harsh words.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’m that person who happily holds doors open for young and old alike, shovels half the block when it snows because so many of my neighbors are older or in ill health and “blesses” total strangers when they sneeze in public. Am I Mother Theresa? Definitely not. Can I be thoughtless? Oh yeah. Being seen as the devil incarnate definitely bugged me though and I spent far too much time trying to explain myself and my intentions to someone who will never hear me. The poor man is just trying to protect his interests after all and that must be one tough job considering his work is outside in an alley -- in an area known for graffiti. Good grief - head shaking - laughing fondly at self in a Christopher Robin sort of way.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Street art has come a long way from its public nuisance, in your face, </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">spray paint scrawled roots. It is now fine art -- exactly the point I was trying to make when I started writing this. Protected, copyrighted, guarded carefully as if safe within museum walls. Ironic, isn’t it? This may be the last time you see several of these images...unless you plan a trip to San Francisco’s Mission District to see one of the most concentrated collections of amazing graffiti art murals...in person. Just don’t take your camera!</span></div>
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The fabulous top mural was obviously created by the very cool Zio Zeigler, the stunning middle mural is by the wildly talented team of Alynn-Mag. More information may be found on these artists in my Etsy Shop. Come visit.<br />
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-35722321300410842692013-03-06T15:58:00.000-08:002013-05-12T15:23:29.571-07:00The Philadelphia Flower Show - 2013<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Flowers - by the first week of March I'm craving them.</span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The theme of the 184th Philadelphia Flower Show is Brilliant Britain with inspiration coming from -- where else?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Our talented and stylish gardening friends in England.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After a few hit-or-miss years, the Flower Show is “back” with lush, sweet-smelling displays that are big, creative, whimsical and luscious.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Piped in music highlights all-British bands and provides great energy -- "Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away..."</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">If you Google the show, you’ll see lots of spectacular floral displays I’m sure, but I came away with some favorite pics that are, perhaps, a little different.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Here’s what caught my eye this year...</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Hats.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I adore hats and these fascinators are so stylish!</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> A certain amount of savoir faire would be required to pull them off and these beauties would require regular watering as well...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">This gorgeous evening gown made of...l had to look very closely...nearly toppling into the display - rice. Oh, and there's another hat involved as well...f</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">un.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">A classic display of architecture and statuary, surrounded by a verdant lawn, richly colorful, heavenly scented flowers and a fountain.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Hold on...did that statue just</span><i style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> move</i><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> She did. Ever so slowly and not very often. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I loved watching the faces on the folks in the crowd as they slowly -- or suddenly -- realized the statue in the center arch was gracefully ALIVE.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Double fun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0px;">If you haven’t been yet, this is a great year to go. The giant reproduction of Big Ben that tolls the hour...</span><i style="font-family: Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0px;">almost</i><span style="font-family: Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0px;"> allows you to believe you’re in London...not Philly.</span><br />
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-36555024771067372432013-03-04T08:01:00.000-08:002013-03-04T16:23:36.835-08:00Saturday Surprise -- Goals Unmet<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This is <i>not</i> the blog I’d planned to write today. I was going to write about Graffiti Art and my recent obsession photographing it, but instead, I’m going to tell a little story on myself...because I find I must brag about my pals.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My plan for Saturday was to be up, out of the house and walking by 9 a.m. I spent the week sitting - ugh - in front of the computer working in my Etsy shop being <i>massively </i></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">productive.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">As a result, my sad little bottom feels flat and flabby and I was more than ready for a brisk walk across town to the Museum of Art to run sets of the “Rocky Steps”, stop for oatmeal and coffee and then continue the walk back home.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">A good six+ miles roundtrip -- </span><i style="letter-spacing: 0px;">and</i><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> those brutal steps working up a good sweat along the way - I knew I would feel wildly virtuous afterwards.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I envisioned a halo on my head and a sleeve of Girl Scout Cookies in my future..</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEGky6Fmqw_FujRml0TO7OhBYQgU95Mbbg7lMtgM4HQvC3TtJBsAxa5EDlRnV7CwWhYcKezCsfsq2yLePPMMlB9kelJGmJJWCRd8zcrKc8cd7yL-aMmtlpRnzyu3LySNk7TXClH_Gw0YOP/s1600/DSCN2390+Tea+&+Toast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEGky6Fmqw_FujRml0TO7OhBYQgU95Mbbg7lMtgM4HQvC3TtJBsAxa5EDlRnV7CwWhYcKezCsfsq2yLePPMMlB9kelJGmJJWCRd8zcrKc8cd7yL-aMmtlpRnzyu3LySNk7TXClH_Gw0YOP/s320/DSCN2390+Tea+&+Toast.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Here’s what <i>actually</i> happened on Saturday. I got up, put on my comfy old robe and slippers, made a cup of jasmine tea...and sat down in front of the computer. Vowing to get up and go “right after I finish this” at least a dozen times -- <i>this</i> led to <i>that </i>when three cups of tea and six hours later the doorbell rang. Still in my P.J.’s mind you, I sheepishly answered the door to find dear friends - Ms. X and Mr. Y - in town for the day visiting Mr. Y’s lovely daughter Z who’s studying at Penn. Pleased to meet daughter Z for the first time, we laughed, we chatted, we had a whorl-wind catch up and out the door they went. Great fun -- they didn’t seem to mind a bit that I looked like I’d just crawled out of bed with my teeth unbrushed, my hair a fright and the house strewn with newspapers, tea cups and toast crumbs.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I was so happy to have seen them -- even briefly -- because, as I’ve known for many years, I have remarkably special friends. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m so lucky, but I have world class, creme de la creme, hands-down<i> the best people</i> on earth for friends. Here’s an example of why: several hours after Ms. X, Mr. Y and daughter Z departed, laughing their merry way down the sidewalk, I got an email from Ms. X. Here, in part, is what she said to me: </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“<i>You wear those silk pajamas well....It's rare that our friends are so "uptown" that they appear at 4 p.m. on a Saturday in silk pajamas and cashmere robes. Do you know Myrna Loy???”</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You know you are lucky in your friends when they surprise you at your worst...but manage to <i>see </i>you in fine, rare light...and of course Ms. X <i>would know</i> that Myrna Loy is one of my role models! I’m afraid husband T did not receive William Powell comparisons in his sweats and baseball cap...I’ll be hunting up a vintage “smoking jacket” for him...on Etsy of course.</span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-79708128361950339262013-03-01T16:25:00.002-08:002013-03-01T16:25:48.608-08:00Home Decorating Ideas: Architectural Detail<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOu-AJAHqgjTMk8URYE73e6HdqEoFq1hN_LcDyy4L8aBxKIGJjwCwD9qYPf5CHrGsmcAsX05CTvDnjFHe80elqRcZb9etT5LYtZJlnM9mG8YYzK66aCAYjsz26ViAg_0M8dWfGpHkN10K/s1600/DSCN1758+-+Wooden+Cherub+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOu-AJAHqgjTMk8URYE73e6HdqEoFq1hN_LcDyy4L8aBxKIGJjwCwD9qYPf5CHrGsmcAsX05CTvDnjFHe80elqRcZb9etT5LYtZJlnM9mG8YYzK66aCAYjsz26ViAg_0M8dWfGpHkN10K/s200/DSCN1758+-+Wooden+Cherub+Square.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My name is Elizabeth and I’m an addict. Not an addict in the traditional sense, happily, but I am addicted to the beauty I find in old, romantic, classical architecture. Specifically, the architectural detail that divinely decorates the grand old buildings constructed during the time of Kings and Queens, Czars and Czarinas and more recently in the United States, by myriad railroad, oil and steel tycoons who reigned here during the late 1800‘s well through the turn of the century.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Considering my addiction, which developed gradually while traveling in Russia, Turkey, France, Italy and England, I’m a lucky girl to live in Philadelphia -- an eminently walkable city with plenty of old money. Close proximity to New York City and <i>not that far</i> from the famous Cliff Walk mansions of Newport, RI certainly helped as well. In fact, when big name architects of the time weren’t busy with grand office buildings and palatial homes, they were commissioned to build magnificent mausoleums to celebrate the dead as well. So, even our cemeteries offer amazing works of art.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigg4otmjj6b93TpkegCCPffdmMDHFi3pNXckWeA_ZF4SF63Z5Z42dnskNhcDzWFLUaB5t0DTVNIhIoTkhIuGTgPMA3tyIExo3V4PVbV9Jzk23_TK4IJXqI2_YxsgUvcFDdG-nlg2ADp9C_/s1600/DSCN1735+-+Star+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigg4otmjj6b93TpkegCCPffdmMDHFi3pNXckWeA_ZF4SF63Z5Z42dnskNhcDzWFLUaB5t0DTVNIhIoTkhIuGTgPMA3tyIExo3V4PVbV9Jzk23_TK4IJXqI2_YxsgUvcFDdG-nlg2ADp9C_/s320/DSCN1735+-+Star+Square.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">One sweltering summer, not long after moving to Philadelphia, I offered to help a friend shut down her antiques store across town. Every morning for much of the season, I’d set out on foot early to beat the heat, taking a different route every day to make it interesting. With nobody yet out on the sidewalks racing to work, I could pay attention to the world around me rather than dodging cars and other pedestrians. In this way, I discovered the extraordinary architectural detail and design of my new home and was almost giddy with excitement.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The architecture of Philadelphia has been well maintained and is wonderfully weathered, adding to the charm. The newness has long since worn off and moss-green, rust and the patina of time enhances the beauty of each unique detail. Harking back to an era when labor was cheap and ornamentation a sign of wealth and success, intricate ironwork, tile-work, mosaic and architectural detail embellish nearly every structure. Thousands of masterpieces -- large and small -- can be found within the larger body of each building. I marvel at the skill of the craftsmen who labored on these projects. Where did they come from? Why did they come? How did they get here? What has happened to their magnificent skills?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1AIQi_hdBEHftIwh0uEbnbcSxMs7BR_4_82hfmzCHZVyYTdIGE69HdyMpPpSBmAhaDkz74kwo9yyApUjyE9Jiz6YZI_dVZNnfwNU0J_FWdpacY_MTpuV-c-vtsmU960PY52uDoKl3kCtX/s1600/DSCN1461+-+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1AIQi_hdBEHftIwh0uEbnbcSxMs7BR_4_82hfmzCHZVyYTdIGE69HdyMpPpSBmAhaDkz74kwo9yyApUjyE9Jiz6YZI_dVZNnfwNU0J_FWdpacY_MTpuV-c-vtsmU960PY52uDoKl3kCtX/s200/DSCN1461+-+Square.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Beautifully carved cherubs, angels, and the expressive face of a native american settled over a doorway. Horses, lions, bears -- all manner of mythological creature: the gryphon, winged dragons and gargoyles. Oh and the Gods and Goddesses...they are lovely. Once you begin to notice them, you see they are everywhere. Museum-worthy works of art -- outdoors, in plain sight, for all the world to see and yet, they are so common, they have vanished from our sight. We walk past them every day and do not notice.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5pBk5IBkUOIeacF3rgGgEXL2udBenisaSeqSpitpshUxYPYRxu0qqCDc4JPaiLKPqkcKjqqAWhKYMjgKwcJOvKH7ARtthzImIDSH43aNOGCV0th61ogJex6gBcz1luL2wysLv4h3b0Et/s1600/DSCN1466+-+Egg+&+Dard+-+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5pBk5IBkUOIeacF3rgGgEXL2udBenisaSeqSpitpshUxYPYRxu0qqCDc4JPaiLKPqkcKjqqAWhKYMjgKwcJOvKH7ARtthzImIDSH43aNOGCV0th61ogJex6gBcz1luL2wysLv4h3b0Et/s200/DSCN1466+-+Egg+&+Dard+-+Square.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRnv_tJOcBJh6gPafMJjtsVqnPCaLVXoImqEGPmhXsstOktI-oT7BqrnKbhujJTfEvaXUxIMGGFHLILO7FKv3XDnBdSEBd4eYwiQJlUnVEG1JVoPaXLAI4W3km77_2lPy9KsnsZNki5dS/s1600/DSCN1429+-+Gryphon+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRnv_tJOcBJh6gPafMJjtsVqnPCaLVXoImqEGPmhXsstOktI-oT7BqrnKbhujJTfEvaXUxIMGGFHLILO7FKv3XDnBdSEBd4eYwiQJlUnVEG1JVoPaXLAI4W3km77_2lPy9KsnsZNki5dS/s200/DSCN1429+-+Gryphon+Square.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Actually, I notice them. I stalk them with my camera...waiting for the light to mellow or shift, for the rain to come and deepen the hues, or the season to change. I stalk them and capture them and print them out on museum quality paper made for watercolor artists because it enhances the texture of the stone, saturates the shadows and heightens the richness of streaking minerals and rust. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Subject to the vagaries of time and weather, the architectural details are ever-changing and I know that what is captured today, may look very different a year from now and I am touched in a way that surprises me - a little window of awareness has opened. So forgiving of the changes in the structures I am - finding them graceful, lovely and natural -- I am inspired to practice that same generosity on myself as I observe in my mirror the changes each year brings. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Photography is remarkably versatile. Float it in modern plexiglass. Frame it in reclaimed wood for a rustic look, vintage frames for shabby chic style or classic black to blend with any decor. So, indulge me if you would. You’ve heard that walking is good for you -- take a walk in an old city -- or even in a small town that’s been around for awhile and was prosperous for a number of years. Look at the office buildings, old banks, schools, libraries and government buildings. Notice the doorways and windows and along the rooftops. What do you see? Snap your own photographs and pop them into frames, or stop into my shop and take a look at more of my images, which include a variety of travel photography, urban art and artisan jewelry featuring my photography as well. I hope you find something new and interesting and beautiful on your walk -- or in my shop. <a href="http://www.ninedragons.etsy.com/"><span style="color: #021eaa; letter-spacing: 0px;">www.ninedragons.etsy.com</span></a></span></div>
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This collection of images has been pulled from Washington, DC, Charleston, SC, Philadelphia, PA, New York City and St. Augustine, FL.</div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-79966595367037792732013-01-25T11:19:00.000-08:002013-05-12T15:47:20.305-07:00What Do You Call Yourself<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I’ve had many careers in my life.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At the time, each one felt random as I seemingly stumbled into one job after another.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Looking back, I see how each of those careers formed a stepping-stone pathway to who I am and what I do today. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">For so many childhood and teen years, as most of us do, I called myself a Student. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The monkey bars, finger paints and any projects involving glue, glitter or modeling clay were definitely my thing.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I was a tomboy, so climbing the highest trees, being the neighborhood quarterback, and making up a rough and tumble nighttime game we called, oddly, German Camp which involved a “guard” with a flashlight.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Hmmm.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Anyone else spend far too much time watching Hogan’s Heroes growing up?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I remember being fearless, ready for any adventure and I read books like I was afraid they might be taken away.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">My very best days were spent sitting in the tippy-top of a cottonwood tree high above the rooftops with a book, looking far away into the distance...wondering what adventures were out there. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj35TqLDhPi33A4G5lLp9o46NUOtVM6-N4fyJfL1c25O66LiV8JXdjHJTddTlmgim2rp_xcsq266w0SfPnLZN3llAhqQKHwXPMOc1l6euZOxp-ajufQO3io0txH9HZQc2SoOjj2SnqC1XSA/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj35TqLDhPi33A4G5lLp9o46NUOtVM6-N4fyJfL1c25O66LiV8JXdjHJTddTlmgim2rp_xcsq266w0SfPnLZN3llAhqQKHwXPMOc1l6euZOxp-ajufQO3io0txH9HZQc2SoOjj2SnqC1XSA/s200/images.jpeg" width="133" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">As I got older, I discovered sewing...my grandmother and my mother sewed beautiful, well-made clothing.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I have photos of my mother, myself and my doll wearing matching dresses and two stunning quilts my grandmother hand stitched to remind me of their talent.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">How like magic it was to snip snip some fabric and stitch it all together to create something unique and beautiful?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Empowering as well, to create such practical loveliness from so little using my two hands. I excelled at installing zippers and the neighborhood ladies brought their sewing projects requiring a zipper to me.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">No one thought to mention that I might actually study such things as I grew older.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Those projects were fun, so I did them on the side.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Financially, college was wasted on me. I didn’t know what I wanted and flitted from field to field studying a bit of everything - mastering, or discovering a lasting passion for...nothing. After leaving school, I longed for adventure. An extended trip to Europe between my freshman and sophomore years had ignited a need to explore the big, wide world. I wanted to experience different cultures, ancient architecture, spicy, new food and so I began to call myself an Explorer. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When two friends moved to the exotic and very far-away West Coast, I thought that sounded fine. California might well have been a foreign country for all I knew of it, so I slept on their sofa for a few months while I found a job and a place to live. You don’t need great skills to show up, look presentable, answer a phone, make coffee and work the crossword puzzle all day - so I mastered my first office job and earned enough to pay the rent, drink margaritas and play at the beach. Gathering a little polish, I moved on to bigger companies to answer their phones and make their coffee until someone discovered I could type like a fiend and so I could now call myself Secretary and then an Executive Secretary and then Executive Assistant right on up to Assistant FF&E Coordinator for a large hotel construction project. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Volunteering to work a fundraiser for a big-shot East Coast politician landed me in the weird world of politics - for which I was (and am) entirely unsuited. But it was an adventure and I was thrilled to explore a brand new Coast. During this time I called myself a Fundraiser and Event Planner and I became quite comfortable asking perfect strangers to write checks for absurd amounts of money without blinking. The first time I asked someone to write a $10,000 check and they did -- on the spot -- I almost choked. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZOXVDH9Bnc1h3XusE5wwIT4ZwGNgvWG5YS86GrDIr9jjj-_0hj6n8rsIgfri9NqqQwCuyKpwF0dR1PaktNmnHCd19IZ1NHDEIBnHe3y56zBFYX0IZYtbtrbL3Ieq79Rn9L58VHh3TxAs/s1600/stepping-stone-path1+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZOXVDH9Bnc1h3XusE5wwIT4ZwGNgvWG5YS86GrDIr9jjj-_0hj6n8rsIgfri9NqqQwCuyKpwF0dR1PaktNmnHCd19IZ1NHDEIBnHe3y56zBFYX0IZYtbtrbL3Ieq79Rn9L58VHh3TxAs/s200/stepping-stone-path1+2.jpg" width="120" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It wasn’t until a number of years later, when “my Party” ended and I was rudely booted out of a job, that I took some years to stop and wonder about what I might <i>choose</i> to call myself next. Nothing in particular leapt to mind, so when my husband and I moved and I had the leisure to pay attention to the world around me -- very much like a child again -- I searched out a new home and nurtured my inner Interior Designer. I became reacquainted with my old love of textiles, color, things that sparkle in the light and creativity. After tossing a well-made camera into the mix, it became something of a challenge, to end up as anything <i>but</i> a photographer. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In this present moment of time, that’s what I call myself, a Photographer. It’s a good fit. I am filled with delight when I become aware of unusual, or unnoticed, visual treasures that surround us as we journey through life. Mostly, they are ordinary things, there for all to see, but I capture them to show you their simple, perfect beauty -- each one a visual gift. I’ve called myself so many things. As I look back at the personal path I created with it’s jogs and turns and mis-steps, I am surprised to see each one leading rather naturally to the next and I turn forward and wonder what the next stepping stone will be. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Come visit my shop www.ninedragons.etsy.com Wishing you great adventures along your own path,</span></div>
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E. England</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Note: The lovely stepping stone path shown here is from: http://tedwiebe.wordpress.com/tag/rhubarb-leaves/</span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-32747013530441103352012-12-20T09:09:00.000-08:002013-03-04T08:17:42.575-08:00I Believe<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 0px;">Just over a year ago, still mourning the very recent loss of my feisty 18-year-old cat, Christmas did not hold the dancing enchantment that it usually does for me.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 0px;">It’s now “next Christmas” and snow or no snow, I feel bits of magic gathering in the air.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 0px;">This blog is about loss and a very special book and hope.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 0px;">Here’s what I wrote last year... </span><span style="font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiprSof5TZGRgQSpdG1YRKDJlkNGbOgIT0zIG1pKVNOb7py_DSZjBxp8c1vKQCOAWj4bboFYtsmlNtlhyphenhyphenzb4CMOzKnIoLvc-oRPMFSZorocpZpfTAwCRKf23GRIW-0R02Iqf32khYBe4WN/s1600/DSCN4898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiprSof5TZGRgQSpdG1YRKDJlkNGbOgIT0zIG1pKVNOb7py_DSZjBxp8c1vKQCOAWj4bboFYtsmlNtlhyphenhyphenzb4CMOzKnIoLvc-oRPMFSZorocpZpfTAwCRKf23GRIW-0R02Iqf32khYBe4WN/s200/DSCN4898.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Even with its wonderful, twinkly-lit, pine-smelling reminder of hope, peace, love and magic, I did not embrace the beauty of Christmas this year.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Emotional numbness over the recent loss of our handful of a way-smart cat and a long weekend get-away in early December left me hollow and rushing to stage a Christmas just before the big day.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">My heart wasn’t in it, the energy wasn’t there.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I could not find a way to imagine our mantle, decorated with greenery and stockings, missing one stocking for the first time in almost eighteen years.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At the last minute, we put up a lovely tree and strung it with lights, but left it free of ornaments.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The mantle had its blanket of greenery, but we didn’t hang any stockings.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">We celebrated beautifully with longtime, dear friends, as is our tradition, but my heart did not expand with the joy I usually experience.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Well into the New Year I wondered if, after all these years, the wide-open place within my heart which had always allowed me to “Believe” had quietly but firmly closed one day without my even noticing. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It was a disheartening thought in that, more often than not, I navigate happily through life on heartstrings. Then my cousin Jane sent me a photo of her beautiful daughter Quin visiting Santa. Quin turned ten on New Year’s Day and is beginning to wonder, which reminded me of an unusual book I read each year in those special, glittering days before Christmas. The ritual, forgotten this year, is to wait until the fresh green tree has been maneuvered into <i>the perfect </i>place in the living room, each special ornament has been unwrapped and, sparkling with memory, hung on the tree…and that final trip to the Post Office has been made. I then put on my favorite carols, light every candle in the room and with a large, wicked glass of spiked eggnog at hand, curl up with <i>The Flight of the Reindeer</i> by Robert Sullivan. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9ylHpjHMfEQdzYHucGfIWY-MG7vJmeLfT-8iaXVQNCEqpK6bZo47UhdKbl6s0Lh6J_9YhiFfrbSttWwLOZBLZ9pgOslA1OoeCS1HSGzMEW588tBIZXlCIoTxXskqe9a-FuQVTXdRIlT6/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 10px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9ylHpjHMfEQdzYHucGfIWY-MG7vJmeLfT-8iaXVQNCEqpK6bZo47UhdKbl6s0Lh6J_9YhiFfrbSttWwLOZBLZ9pgOslA1OoeCS1HSGzMEW588tBIZXlCIoTxXskqe9a-FuQVTXdRIlT6/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Found many years ago in a sad little discount book store, this treasure of a book is about Santa Claus and Reindeer That Fly and <i>giving</i> with some bits about science, antlers and aerodynamic lift, a famous arctic explorer and the super-secret Presidential order that clears airspace over the United States each Christmas Eve. They were asking $5.95 for it. I bought them all.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Every year, when a friend tells me their son or daughter is beginning to wonder, I dust off one of my stash and send it off to them. That little tradition began not long after I found the books when my friend Maud told me her son Billy had arrived home from school that week very upset over remarks his teacher had made about Santa. The concerned parents had a huddle over what exactly to tell their trusting child and then wise dad explained that we all reach a point when we must decide whether or not to “believe”. He went on to say that some choose to stop believing in what cannot be proven, while others, and in this he included himself, <i>know within their hearts they will always believe</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So, here I sit thinking about this magical book and loss, and the choices we make and I begin to cry -- in a good way – because I can feel that familiar ache of joy within my heart and I remember that…<i>I believe</i>. Such a lovely gift…because the sun shines brighter, the flowers smell sweeter and the people around me seem so much kinder. Happy New Year…I’m looking forward to next Christmas.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Wishing you peace, love and light this season and in the year to come. E. England</span></div>
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-40113476983824626182012-12-10T11:04:00.002-08:002013-01-22T12:34:18.024-08:00The Finer Things In Life<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In so many respects, I’m a down-to-earth, practical person - after all we mid-westerners are known for our no-frills common sense. I shop selectively and will wear, use and drive my purchases until they can be worn, used and driven no more. My current car is well over a dozen years old and has 147,000 miles on it -- I can’t bear to imagine life without it. Sturdy boxes that come in the mail are re-used, along with pretty tissue paper and paper bags -- because it seems a little sad to throw away something so wonderfully <i>useful</i>. I have been the queen of up-cycled, re-purposed and vintage since long before it was hip.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKprF0bqfdtK1dV-ArzV3EMwRrrjTII4QfoZL6rFRSEUwylE2kyso-1_9QOsmVPOgZHIuomYmE0sJQE7RMYtQYtfA5HL01CLVEriuXp1D9oxSLSnHBsyE_PBFmJjcG9hxY9ik69SZOvnq/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKprF0bqfdtK1dV-ArzV3EMwRrrjTII4QfoZL6rFRSEUwylE2kyso-1_9QOsmVPOgZHIuomYmE0sJQE7RMYtQYtfA5HL01CLVEriuXp1D9oxSLSnHBsyE_PBFmJjcG9hxY9ik69SZOvnq/s200/images-1.jpeg" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This is a very good thing - a balance to my “other” side. As a little girl, my mother would take me back-to-school clothes shopping once a year. With innocent and unerring precision, I would head straight to the dress, coat or shoes that carried the highest price tag in the children’s section. It’s a “talent” that has stayed with me throughout my life. When shopping for a special occasion dress, the one I select will be made of delicate fabric spun from the silken threads of hand-fed imperial silkworms and beaded with bits of starlight brought back to earth on the space shuttle to be hand stitched over many months by blind Tibetan monks. You can imagine how much that costs. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Y01DbyCYodIOWA1N3vr4HbltLONklgQSJijBf4DNphrqyHuy4XFFpZIvkS7SSe3nFSRYms38-vBZJXJJjp5IOmRzLrZekitlDAZGAHZNXDGnHBbkl5K0EvEnUk-oeXwQng7Kd34W0ZFL/s1600/il_570xN.301549997.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Y01DbyCYodIOWA1N3vr4HbltLONklgQSJijBf4DNphrqyHuy4XFFpZIvkS7SSe3nFSRYms38-vBZJXJJjp5IOmRzLrZekitlDAZGAHZNXDGnHBbkl5K0EvEnUk-oeXwQng7Kd34W0ZFL/s320/il_570xN.301549997.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When I began to offer my photography for sale, I did it the only way I knew how - by photographing subjects I found interesting and a little different maybe and then selecting creamy-white archival watercolor paper on which to print the finest inks. I’m drawn to 8-ply, rather than the standard 4-ply, mats. When framing my photographs of China, the most complementary mats seem always to be those of raw silk. In other words, I photograph, mat and often frame things I would happily purchase to hang in my own home. This isn’t sounding very down-to-earth or practical is it?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">An Etsy teammate, a generous man and “knower-of-all-things” has suggested to me that shoppers don’t care what a photograph or piece of art is printed on because we live in a “throw-away” society. He’s right, of course, but those words were like a cold slap in the face. Art feels so very personal to me and I assumed it was the same for everyone. After all, museums don’t allow visitors to touch the art precisely because <i>so many</i> of us are compelled to get close to those pieces that attract us. Just like love at first sight - the attraction is either there, or it isn’t. You might appreciate all of those beautiful boys on the beach, but chances are, face to face, that delicious hum of frisson will only occur with one...or two of them. Closer inspection will tell you if the connection is deeper - if the colors are true, if the subject is balanced, if you are, indeed, drawn to touch and take one home.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Hmmm. I’ve gotten a little muddled here - and you must wonder: is she talking about art now or those handsome boys on the beach? No matter. Maybe I’m missing the point entirely -- holding on too tightly to my own concept of art when art is so very many things. I could print my photographs on toilet paper and they would still be interesting and unique -- though not so easy to frame perhaps. I could forgo the satin and lace this year and wrap <i>myself</i> in toilet paper to go dancing on New Year’s Eve and with my middle-of-the-country practicality, use what’s left at the end of the evening in the ultimate act of re-cycling. I suspect though, that my connection to “the finer things” is imbedded too deeply in my little strands of DNA to find much comfort in either idea.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">Stop into my Etsy shop. Look around -- you may find something that speaks to your soul -- something that will make you smile every single time you gaze at it - something that your grandchildren might come to treasure. If you buy it, I promise you, it’s been created with care and attention to detail and made to last 100 years...at the very least.</span><br />
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-71021743684426495802012-10-23T10:40:00.002-07:002012-10-24T08:38:36.545-07:00Arroz con Leche and Love<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Dinner parties are very special to me. Gathering interesting new friends or dear old pals around a beautifully set table and chatting into the wee hours over good wine and a thoughtfully prepared meal is one of my very favorite things. Lingering over leisurely meals and a bite or two of dessert is when the best conversations take place and secrets are told. Truly, the most <i>interesting</i> stories come out once stomachs are pleasantly full, candles are burning low and the music is mellow. It’s a bit of a balancing act, making the evening special enough so that your guests know you care, but easy enough to take part in the stories as well. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmbr9YoBkx7p6ov5VnHmShs2TxzZJwxNaLmwktTsuEwqXiP-5ryaW472EGfzwNeCMiq37Wsa_b12dlChPceJW2I-3UZsgQYv1EOs78KKka-WVRRGuQGUNlI0XGE21hTWbB2vPMtubYsNJ/s1600/DSCN1551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmbr9YoBkx7p6ov5VnHmShs2TxzZJwxNaLmwktTsuEwqXiP-5ryaW472EGfzwNeCMiq37Wsa_b12dlChPceJW2I-3UZsgQYv1EOs78KKka-WVRRGuQGUNlI0XGE21hTWbB2vPMtubYsNJ/s320/DSCN1551.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Not being the best planner-organizer, I usually manage to pull together the table and the meal before 9:00 pm when dinner guests are at my mercy -- but I often run out of steam when it comes to planning and preparing a calorie worthy uncomplicated dessert. Nine times out of ten, I concede defeat and run out to buy dessert which, in all honestly, works just fine.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Still, if I can pull off a little homemade dessert that elicits mmm’s, I feel I’ve given my guests a secret hug or the whisper of a kiss on their cheek -- a tiny secret gift -- in exchange for their friendship. Silly, I know. My friends will love me either way, but I feel like I’ve just gotten away with something when I’ve hand-made the dessert.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Some years ago, I read an article written by a woman who chose not to cook. To the dismay of her mother, domestic arts were neglected and her energy went towards a career. In the article, she tells of falling in love and discovering her lover (a talented cook - how perfect) being drawn to the ethnic food made by her mother. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">She knew they were destined to be together when she realized one day that she <i>wanted</i> to learn to prepare something special for him. She loved him so much, she learned to make Arroz con Leche, a recipe which requires time and constant attention as the rice slowly absorbs the milk, sugar and flavor of the cinnamon sticks. In discovering love, she opened herself to sharing the gift of her time -- a very great gift indeed - whether offered to our lovers, our children or our friends. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Her lovely story touched me, and encouraged me to think about how easily distracted I can be and how much I sometimes take for granted. Within days of reading the article, I had ventured out to purchase the ingredients in order to offer my own dessert-loving husband the gift of my time. Such simple ingredients, such a sublime dessert! </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I realize, and certainly hope, that my dinner guests never know how much time goes into this simple, elegant dessert...as I lay small, warm ramekins at each place setting and smile inside. The crisp bite of Fall is in the air, it’s the perfect time for Arroz con Leche, cozy dinner parties and love.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Warm 4 cups of whole milk. Heat 1 cup Arborio rice with 2 cups of water, 1/8 teaspoon salt, one cinnamon stick. Slowly add milk (about 1/2 cup at a time) to the simmering rice, stirring constantly. Let most of it absorb before adding the next portion. Finally add 1/4 cup sugar and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Stop heating when the pudding is still very soupy -- 20 minutes or so. Sprinkle with cinnamon. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Note: The inspiration for this blog and the recipe above was taken from an article titled Catching a Man With Arroz con Leche by Julia Alvarez</span></div>
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Please stop by and visit my Etsy shop to see my travel photography and Buddha jewelry www.etsy.com/shop/nineddragons<br />
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Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-78706681201164839242012-09-25T16:07:00.000-07:002012-09-25T16:24:14.467-07:00The Pool Next Door - Summertime Adventures at the Jersey Shore<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Although summer is over and the Shore has returned to the quiet, peaceful place it will remain until next June, we had a birds-eye view through the kitchen window this summer of the vacation drama, excitement and celebration that takes place among the families who rent the beach house next door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The house is one of very few with a pool and therefore wildly popular among families with small children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saturday is “change-over” day and it’s a real roll of the dice to see who’s moved in for the coming week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s always entertaining….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguUgR_5kSMmNlYEjbDb6KKrU9KcrG1sN9JsgjPZ6XyXrAsZlRcIxFENPlLoumBKryjHExpMVIC0EuviosRyhO2BupXfPQla7b-OuovAqJ3bSYspAktxTyYYz96cE6566-_dj-8dONeJok/s1600/DSCN4328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguUgR_5kSMmNlYEjbDb6KKrU9KcrG1sN9JsgjPZ6XyXrAsZlRcIxFENPlLoumBKryjHExpMVIC0EuviosRyhO2BupXfPQla7b-OuovAqJ3bSYspAktxTyYYz96cE6566-_dj-8dONeJok/s320/DSCN4328.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Daddy, he’s sinking”, we heard a little girl’s calm voice float through the kitchen window one Saturday afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wasn’t alarmed, she was simply observing – as if maybe her little brother sank slowly to the bottom of the pool rather often.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, two short beats and she became a bit more insistent, “He’s sinking Daddy”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>We heard a beer bottle thunk as it tumbled to the cement and then a sizeable splash as “Daddy” leapt into the water to pull his young son to the surface.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The family calmly gathered as the little boy coughed and sputtered. Someone held his arms high over his head, while another family member instructed him to “breathe”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once it had been established that his son was, indeed, breathing as advised, dad set about removing the battery from his cell phone in an attempt to save its life as well…and pulled another beer from the cooler. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>We couldn’t help but notice the next day, the little boy was wearing “water wings” while in the pool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just another day at the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Jersey</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Shore</st1:placetype></st1:place>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276018108390228371.post-32105716970684668692012-07-16T16:38:00.000-07:002012-11-01T15:26:58.466-07:00My Friend Seymour<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Three years ago this summer I lost a friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I first encountered <place w:st="on"><city w:st="on">Seymour</city></place> about sixteen years ago when I moved into <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">his</i> neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I saw him often on the street during the late afternoons while I was out planting flowers, weeding, washing windows or polishing the old brass knocker on our front door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d come trudging around the corner in all sorts of weather wearing what looked like old military pants and some type of well-worn shirt or untidy jacket – most often with a tattered rucksack on his back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Although his house was just three doors down from mine, I didn’t initially realize he was my neighbor with that three-day scruff of beard, his statement clothing and disinclination to make eye contact or smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think having another house on the block fall to cheerful, industrious yuppies made him cranky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who were we to waltz in making our grand improvements and driving up the cost of houses and taxes in the neighborhood?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hadn’t braved the prostitutes and drug dealers and robberies of decades past – we hadn’t earned our right to recognition…yet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is a tiny apartment building at the end of our street – next door to what was <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seymour</place></city>’s house – that has space on its first floor for a small business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband and I finally began to earn our “cred” with <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seymour</place></city> when a series of unsuitable businesses tried to rent the space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t zoned for those businesses, but unless someone kicked up a fuss and organized the block, they probably would have come in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having the most on the line, <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seymour</place></city> went door to door gathering support to block the tenancy and we were happy to support him – and so finally move up a notch in his estimation. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A few more years passed and we continued to come together in support of, or opposition to, one neighborhood issue or another and I now had a vague idea that <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seymour</place></city> had done something in his career with art restoration or graphics or something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was aware that at one point he had worked at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, so whatever it was he did, or used to do, he must be, or have been, pretty good at it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8j0Za4rUcnKmnF5cKzKk4QZrZ3sMdvjz_l-fH0yFOE2vIKXA3sONLnkdMMvWmfMk4GsRdAj7naTSONbO2VtwHcpiBCuXW-BeFXLO72VzBbcGSgBot9QrW2cypfQLU0w6dqNGlo24P7_pZ/s1600/Seymour+Our+First+Painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ca="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8j0Za4rUcnKmnF5cKzKk4QZrZ3sMdvjz_l-fH0yFOE2vIKXA3sONLnkdMMvWmfMk4GsRdAj7naTSONbO2VtwHcpiBCuXW-BeFXLO72VzBbcGSgBot9QrW2cypfQLU0w6dqNGlo24P7_pZ/s320/Seymour+Our+First+Painting.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wandering around the city one weekend in June I came across the Rittenhouse Square Art show for the first time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s quite an event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The entire park is lined with talented artists from around the country - selling their work over the course of three days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I wandered from one slick, tented display to another, I was distracted by the most exquisite little paintings that were displayed clothespinned to a rope and strung between two trees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The paintings were a combination of elegant still life works and gritty street scenes of disappearing neighborhoods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were rich and detailed with the sort of colors that bring to mind Modigliani or Vermeer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then a movement caught my eye and I noticed the artist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seymour</place></city>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stood with my mouth open in complete and utter astonishment and then demanded to know whether this was, indeed, his work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He ducked his head, jammed his hands into his pockets and kicked at the grass with one foot, looking exactly like a six year old accused of filching a piece of the cherry pie you were saving for dessert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He blushed and muttered something to indicate a “yes” and the words “Seymour, who knew you were hiding the heart and soul of a true romantic behind that gruff exterior?” flew right out of my mouth. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He turned a deeper shade of blush-red and we bonded for life right there on the spot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Each year found one or two more of <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seymour</place></city>’s lovely paintings added to our collection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He made me promise I would never pay more to frame one of his pieces than I’d paid for the art.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something of a challenge considering the cost of framing and the fact that he always insisted on charging a “friends and neighbors” price he seemed to make up on the spot depending on how well he knew you or whether or not you were a starving student.</span></div>
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<city w:st="on"><place w:st="on"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Seymour</span></place></city><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> stopped entering Art in the Park several years before his death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe the rigors of setting up for the show got to be too much, but I suspect the exacting hoops he was required to jump through to re-enter each year (though he’d been a participant for many, many years) demoralized him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What had begun in 1932 with a small group of <city w:st="on">Philadelphia</city> art students as “The Clothesline Show” had now morphed into the chic Rittenhouse Square Fine Art Show, something alien to <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seymour</place></city>’s egalitarian soul I'd guess.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnzNqgcty__3_6ENaVyVFKlEkZasvxvMosAvKuvytg45dlEFQZE2iJq4jQfU1aDJOViexY96Ba2F7Lg0ggQ84-7gLlfLDTcoDO4ihz49y5XijnhfE_b1KrVC6iEE9KspmJARFyUSCbYOY/s1600/Seymour+Self+Portrait+Framed+II.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ca="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnzNqgcty__3_6ENaVyVFKlEkZasvxvMosAvKuvytg45dlEFQZE2iJq4jQfU1aDJOViexY96Ba2F7Lg0ggQ84-7gLlfLDTcoDO4ihz49y5XijnhfE_b1KrVC6iEE9KspmJARFyUSCbYOY/s200/Seymour+Self+Portrait+Framed+II.jpg" width="159" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">His son has been in touch recently…with a request that I photograph several of our Seymour Rotman paintings for a project he’s working on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m happy to help -- it’s given me the opportunity to remember my friend and look closely at our paintings once again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of my very favorites is a small self portrait I nearly had to fight him to buy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seymour</place></city> couldn’t understand what I might possibly want with such a thing – but it perfectly captures the qualities I saw in him – depth and intelligence, some unknown pain or sadness and a crankiness tempered by kindness and generosity. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I return home each day from these sometimes gritty <city w:st="on">Philadelphia</city> streets, I am met by the steady gaze of <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seymour</place></city>’s self portrait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am grateful for its artistry as well as its reminder <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not to judge a book by its cover</i> – but instead, to take some time to read more deeply into one another's story and find something within to treasure.</span></div>
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<city w:st="on"><place w:st="on"><strong><span style="color: #6c2f1f; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt; font-variant: small-caps;">SEYMOUR</span></strong></place></city><strong><span style="color: #6c2f1f; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt; font-variant: small-caps;"> ROTMAN</span></strong> 1929 - 2009 </div>
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"<em><span style="color: #6c2f1f; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;">Every year when I exhibited at the annual Rittenhouse Art exhibition, a lovely petite lady would arrive at my booth and painstakingly look through each and every one of my paintings. After a very long time during which not a word passed between us, she would look at me and smile broadly with approval. I later learned that she was Violette deMazia, the longtime curator of the Barnes Foundation.</span></em>" <span style="color: #6c2f1f; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 10pt;">Seymour Rotman, a <place w:st="on">North Philadelphia</place> native, fought in the Korean War as a young man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Upon his return home, he was awarded a full scholarship to the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in recognition of his artistic talent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a student at PAFA, he won a series of traveling fellowships that allowed him to refine his artistic skills in <country-region w:st="on">Mexico</country-region> and <place w:st="on">Europe</place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His talent has been recognized and honored throughout his career by colleagues, mentors and teachers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 10pt;">For an history of what I call Art in the Park, click here<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>http://www.rittenhousesquarefineartshow.org/history.html</span></div>
Elizabeth Englandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07237075002213208552noreply@blogger.com5