The Story of the Light, Day No. 26

26/365: The Battle for Water Rights

June here in Maine has been rather cool—up until a day or two ago. Now the temps are just right for water balloons, hoses, and silly battles among siblings.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 25

25/365: Spilling

My daughter and I wandered around the local garden center with our cameras. These happy, magenta pixies caught my eye, but I can't remember what they're called.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 24

24/265: Reading Glasses

Last year, I tried bifocals. I readily admit that I didn't give them much of a chance, but walking while wearing them made me feel wonky. I couldn't imagine what driving with them would feel like. Besides, I don't wear my glasses (to correct nearsightedness) often: just for driving and watching movies. Therefore, I had the lenses switched to a single focus for my nearsightedness, and had my old glasses fitted with the lenses my optometrist deemed appropriate for reading—just in case. I figured I'd be wearing them only when I was working with tiny beads or something. Well, last night, I realized the time had come for me to add the glasses to my reading basket and carry them up to bed with me. To be honest, it depresses me a little.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 23

23/365: Her Bunny

Stella was sitting near the window, holding her bunny, Maria, when I realized it was time to grab the camera. "Don't move!" I said, as I headed out of the room. When I got back less than a minute later, Stella was still there, frozen like a statue. She tried to talk without moving her lips, and I laughed, telling her that I had simply wanted her to not leave the window seat.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 22

22/365: Do You Like Butter?

One of my childhood memories includes buttercups. Whenever my brother, sister, or I found them growing in the backyard, we'd pick one to hold under the chins of the others so we could ascertain that we each did, indeed, like butter.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 21

21/365: Drenched

The pine pollen around here has been intense lately. Today was cool and windy, with clouds of yellow pollen swirling like fog. When I stepped out on to the deck and turned to pull the sliding door closed behind me, I noticed the yellow dust all over the handle and instead of closing the door, I walked back through it to get my camera. I shoot on manual, generally not paying much attention to my settings until I've snapped a shot or two. This was the first one out of the gate, and I'm pleased with the high key effect.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 20

20/365: A Bit Bored

I caught Stella looking a bit glum today. Thankfully, she was being that way right next to the sliding glass door, which added plenty of light to her face. The boredom/glumness didn't last long. A few minutes after I took this shot, she was outside playing with her brother and the boy next door.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 19

19/365: Showstopper

The frilly, spectacular irises out front bloom every other summer. While it's disappointing to get nothing but leaves one year, the beauties the plant produces the following year make it just about worth the wait.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 18

18/365: Broken Beatrix

The Beatrix Potter Mrs. Tiggy Winkle cup met its match the other night when it met the tile floor in my studio. Jack accidentally knocked the cup from my desk. Thankfully, Stella had already drunk all of the tea in it. I washed it out and set it next to the sink. I'm not sure what I'll do with it (it may up in the trash soon), but it caught my eye today.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 17

17/365: Me and My Camera

I caught sight of the light reflecting off one of my earrings and thought it might make a good photo, especially if it were taken out in the sunlight, so I carried a mirror to the deck, set it on a chair, and proceeded to take about a dozen photos of my reflection. I never got a good shot of the earring.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 16

16/365: Missed by the Mower

Our maintenance around here is lacking, especially outside. The lawnmower makes its rounds, but the weed whacker never comes out of the garage. Nature encroaches every chance it gets, and I tend to record its progress rather than check it. I sometimes imagine a beautiful home and lovely grounds, but right now, I'm just not willing to fight for them.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 15

15/365: Trapped in the Leaves

I glanced up from my book this afternoon and caught sight of these leaves on the tree out front. It felt like there were lit up just for me.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 14

14/365: Stacked

At the two-week mark, I was faced with a rainy day, but I cranked up the ISO and managed to get a shot of some of the art books we've collected over the years. They sat on that chair while I dusted the shelf they normally live on. I do that every now and again.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 12

12/365: Caught

I found this delicate little petal, with some pink life still in it, cradled on a leaf of the crab apple tree. The scene was fleeting and lovely: that tenacious petal and the leaf with an air of big-brother protectiveness about it.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 11

11/365: Highlights

I caught a shot of my daughter Bridget while she was sitting on the front stoop chatting with her brothers Henry and Sam.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 10

10/365: Dishes in the Sink

Last fall, we bought a dishwasher, after being without a working one for years. The transition from the sink to the machine wasn't exactly smooth, with some confusion at first about whether the dishes inside were clean or dirty. We now have a magnet that prevents most mix-ups. Of course, there are still dishes to wash by hand each day, but I generally don't mind doing them, as it gives me time to think.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 9

9/365: Black Paint

I finished reading Realistic Abstracts: Painting Abstracts Based on What You See by Kees van Aalst this afternoon, and of course, I was inspired to try a little of what I learned. So I got out a painting I started a few months ago and began making it more abstract. So far, so good, but I didn't do much, using only this brush and some black paint. The shimmery dark goodness you see here it what was left on the piece of acrylic I use as a palette. I'm not sure where the shimmer came from; most likely it was hiding in the bristles of the brush, which apparently, I don't wash as well as I think I do.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 8

8/365:Lilacs Smell Like Memories

We have one lilac bush in the backyard, but it's really more like a tree, topping out at about eight feet. Each year, near June, I ask my son Henry to cut some lilacs for me. At nearly six feet tall now, he finds the job easier than ever.

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The Story of the Light, Day No. 7

7/365: Complementary

The crab apple tree next to the house gets absolutely covered in frothy pink blossoms each spring, and I try to get outside and capture a bit of the beauty before it falls to earth. Today I was joined by a number of bees who were showing their appreciation, too.

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