Photography

The Puddlewonder(ful) Press

Three quick notes on a rainy Friday afternoon.

  1. I cannot take credit for this gorgeous photograph. (How I wish I had taken it!) This is the work of my partner, Damien Pitter.

  2. Recently, Damien has redesigned his photography blog, The Puddlewonder Press. You can check it out here.

  3. In the new year, Damien plans to open an Etsy store to sell some of his photographs as prints. He would appreciate some feedback regarding which prints people might like to own. If that sounds like fun to you, here’s the game:

  • Click on this page
  • Please look over the photographs below
  • Use the form at the bottom of the page to indicate your top 10 choices

His photographs make me happy + I am happy to share them with you!

The Noticers

i
We are observers
DP and I.

ii
I’m a noticer of emotions,
the clouds that pass over a person’s face
when remembering
a small slight,
some words left unsaid
or too many words
expressed in anger.

I notice shifts in relationships
the small sea changes
of our love-comings and goings

I notice when people are lying.

I love the way
the homes of our friends say,
“This is who we are
and what we love
and how we choose to live.”

I am a sucker for beauty
in all of its forms
and also for kindness.
{Are they not often the same thing?}

iii
We both love people-watching.

In a square in Barcelona
children play football
with their grandfathers
and the friends of your parents
become your family.

At school
we notice which kids are artistic
and which ones have big hearts
and which ones need to be encouraged
more often.

We notice
each other,
what the other
wants and needs
which is no small thing
after all these years.

iv
DP is a very special noticer.

He sees tail-fins of whales
in the Atlantic
where I see only waves.

He always spots
immediately
the item for which I’ve been searching
in a grocery store.

He detects patterns
where I see chaos.

He sees poetry and math
as partners.

He sees the structure of stories
as clearly as I see metaphor.

He notices people’s agendas
and he knows
in his bones
whom we should trust.

Now,
at the Red House
in Newfoundland,
he notices the small shifts
in the diamond sea,
the mackerel sky
and the fog that rolls in
like ghosts.

His photos are proof
of his noticing.
He sees life
unfolding
and captures
slight changes,
tumultuous beauty
instinctively,
the way my father tells a joke.

With his lenses
he captures the world
like stars caught
behind clouds on a clear night
in Newfoundland.

{These photos of Pouch Cove, Newfoundland were taken in July 2012 by DP who used a Canon 7D.}

Following happiness home

what is it about friday afternoon
that makes us giddy?
i love my work
(even when it’s exhausting…
all good things are, sometimes)
but friday afternoons
leave me effervescent,
light and fizzy
like a pink drink with an umbrella
sipped on a beach.

perhaps
it’s the promise
of all that freedom.
48 hours
of exactly what i choose
and nothing else.

yes.

yesterday
these two school girls
in their navy uniforms
and i walked home
from school.
(our students don’t wear uniforms.
i wonder what it’s like.)
they walked very close
to each other
merging their selves
like girls do when we love.
as we neared the park,
the girls began to run.
my heart jumped
and wanted to follow.

in the park
a tiny two-year old in a purple dress
with white polka dots
stared at a small bush
as if it were
a work of art.
(it is.)
she leaned towards it
and whispered.
{oh, how i wish
i understood japanese.}

two teachers
and ten small students
skipped rope on the grass
outside the escalator.
they sang while they skipped.
skip. skip. skip.

outside the daycare,
two women pushed six toddlers
in a trolley
(the kind normally used
for delivering mail
in offices too big
to know everyone’s name.)
the wee ones,
dressed in pastels
like easter eggs,
were standing up in the trolley,
looking about and laughing.
their giggles made me laugh
and also
the girl just ahead of me.
as we rode down in the escalator,
she kept turning around
to look at the babies.
the girl wore small, round glasses
and she seemed especially smart.
at the ground floor
she tore off to catch her train
to the neon city.

at the exit
onto motomachi shopping street
a boy and a girl held up their hands
to the sky.
it was raining
confident, plump drops
and the pair seemed delighted
at this sudden change
in the weather.

crossing the street
i fell into step
behind a tall teenage boy
in a red baseball cap.
he was nodding his head
to the music from his ipod.
by the time we reached
the red light
head nodding
had turned to dancing.
(this kid had swag.)
the japanese people
moved back slightly,
surprised at this sudden outburst
of joy
at street level.

he crossed the street
dancing.
i followed him
dancing in my own way.
happy.
happy in my own way
on a friday afternoon.

the walk home

i’d like to take a moment
to remember
how often the sweetest
things
in life
are also the simplest.

it had been raining hard
all afternoon
and when the bell rang
the kids went running
from the building
with yells
and stolen umbrellas.

by the time i left school
the sun was pushing her blonde head
through steel grey clouds.
the concrete was still wet
and the sun bounced there
like hard red rubber balls
in a playground.

at the end of golden week
in japan
the bluff was filled
with tourists
admiring the city
from the cemetery.
(a strange but true vantage point.)
the late-afternoon sun
made their faces soft
and kind.

the world smelled new.

i walked home.

Freshly Pressed Gratitude

Hello!

If you are new here,
sent over from Freshly Pressed,
I’d like to welcome you!
Pull up a comfy chair
and stay a while.

If you liked
how to be a japanographer
I think you’ll enjoy:
The Tale of the Charming Sale and the Sun.

Finally,
a heartfelt thanks
to those of you
who “liked” a post,
left a comment,
re-blogged a post
or followed MonnaMcDiarmid.com

You’ve made my day
(even) lovelier.