LittlePurpleCow Photography

That man right there... is my little brother. During the last day of our visit earlier this fall, I convinced him to give us a tour of his kingdom up at the high school. Naturally, we've seen him with his coaching staff and players in action on the football field many times over the years, but I wanted to go behind the scenes. I wanted to see what was on the desk in his office... to sit in his chair. I wanted to brush my hand along the concrete walls of the weight lifting room where he had carefully painted bold words of encouragement and hung detailed charts tracking the progress of his young Red Foxes. I wanted to smell the reality of a high school locker room... to study the artifacts and photos he casually placed along the shelves. And in that space – for the first time, in a very long time – I reconnected with his boyhood spirit in a way that still lingers with me today.

When I was pregnant with my girl several years ago, I remember having a brief conversation with God as I was walking through the grocery store one day. I was headed toward the dairy products when a series of questions came to my mind... "I wonder what she'll be like? I wonder who she'll look like? Maybe she'll have blue eyes? I'd be okay with brown hair. Maybe I'll get a glimpse of my mother when I study her face? Well, whatever you decide is fine with me. Please take care of her. I love her already. Amen."

This image reminds me that God hears all prayers. Even the wacky ones.

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In anticipation of Thanksgiving, over the next ten days, I'm planning to share ten people, places or things for which I am truly thankful. Perhaps you are inspired to do the same? Share your thoughts in the comments each day or include a link to your blog post or flickr image and tag it "giving thanks" so we can wallow around in thanksgiving-ness before it's time to haul out the holly.

"In order to function in the language of art, we must learn to live in it comfortably. The language of art is image, symbol. It is a wordless language even when our very art is to chase it with words. The artist's language is a sensual one, a language of felt experience. When we work at our art, we dip into the well of our experience and scoop out images. Because we do this, we need to learn how to put images back. How do we fill the well?

We feed it images."

– Julia Cameron, excerpt from The Artist's Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity

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This weekend I dusted off my copy of The Artist's Way (published in 1992) and reacquanted myself with it. I remember starting and stopping it many years ago and feeling weighted down by its intensity. It seems I'm ready for it now, though I have not yet committed myself to it completely. If you've followed the path of this book, please share your experience with me. I'd love to hear about it.

I've held a magnifying lens up close to my soul for quite some time now. Searching. Thinking. Wondering. Examining how I spend the bulk of my weekday hours. Letting my mind wander back to the envy I felt when I saw the term "Artist" define my great grandfather's occupation on my grandmother's birth certificate many years ago. Wishing. "She's an artist," my mother used to say. And as I rolled around in this state of self-absorption paralyzed by a powerful force commonly known as "fear," my friend Paul H. finally kicked me in the gut when he asked me why I wasn't pursuing photography in the professional sense.

"The timing isn't right," I said.

"What are you waiting for?" he said.

[POW]

I had no response.

Fast forward a few months and I'm now standing on the edge of my destiny... taking a leap of faith. I'm departing a 12-year partnership with my current business, Elemental Interactive, at the end of this year and launching my own business, LittlePurpleCow™ Productions, on January 1, 2009 to focus on photography and the creation of documentary-style digital media productions (audio, video, copywriting, social media). And while I know I'm taking on a whole new set of risks, learning curves, questions and challenges, I've never been more excited.

It's funny how some life experiences just scream to be validated with an image. Had I told you that we attended a pig race at our local pumpkin patch a few weeks ago, you might not have believed me. It's casual captures like this that visually document the quirks I love about life in the south – a place where we'll gladly leap at the chance to squeal with a few swift-moving swines.

Southern friends, what quirks do you love about life in the south?

Cross-posted at Shutter Sisters