Afterwards we went for a walk along the river and took photos. It was kind of a cloudy day so everything I took has a depressing quality to it.

Preita and I were talking about her 365 self-portrait project. She has been keeping it going for a few years and I’ve enjoyed it’s progression through the years. A couple of other friends have done them in the past, as well. I find the 365 days project fascinating. Each person has their own unique spin on it and I find that uniqueness interesting. I’ve toyed with the idea off and on for a few years. At times I’m repelled by the idea. There is a judgey person inside of me who thinks it is narcissistic. But then there is that other side of me that likes to explore her creative side, and that is the part of me that is interested. So five days ago I started my own 365 days project that can be found here. I’m not sure I will be able to get through the entire year. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get through the entire month. Knowing how I am, I’ll probably get sick of myself pretty quickly.

My mom is on her way here to visit this weekend and I’m so excited to see her!  We are going to a wedding reception this evening. My cousin’s daughter got married. So I’m looking forward to seeing some extended family later on today, as well. I’m planning on taking her to the Japanese Gardens tomorrow. Hopefully the nice weather will hold out for us.



Like everyone else in my family I enjoy a drink now and then. I come from a very Catholic family and Catholics like to drink. At least in my mind they do. Maybe this is just my family and not the reality. Regardless, I grew up around adults who drank (this included the Priest at weddings and funerals) so it seemed like the normal thing to do.

I didn’t start until I was in High-school. I don’t remember how it started. I’m sure it was with my friend Kelly, or maybe Udawna. And we probably snuck it from somewhere. And I’m sure it was pretty crappy, whatever it was we snuck.

I do have specific, sad, memory though (now that I’m writing about this it bubbled up to the surface). I must have been 18 or 19. A group of my friends gathered together at this place called Rimrock. It was a place in the town I grew up, Spokane, where kids would go party. Which is exactly what we did that night. I was in love with a guy that was with us. He was my boyfriend the Summer before and we broke up a few months earlier and I still had feelings for him. He didn’t feel anything for me, though. He moved on and it broke my heart.

Somebody brought a bottle of Mad Dog. Mad Dog is a terrible, horrible, drink that might as well be called “Turpentine With Cherry Flavoring Added” because that is what it was. We passed the bottle around and I quickly got wasted. I vaguely remember myself that evening. The more I drank the sadder I got about the situation with this boy. And, apparently, I threatened to fling myself over the cliff because of him.

This boy died in a head-on collision a year after this, breaking my heart even further.

It has been a long time since that happened. I don’t drink to get wasted like I did in my youth. When I do drink I like to enjoy a really good tasting beer and I usually only have one. Two at the most.

I can think of many reasons to quit. First and foremost is that alcoholism runs through my family. I know that I’m not an alcoholic but it is a disease that I need to watch out for.

Another reason to quit relates to my interest in Zen Buddhism. In Buddhism drinking is something that is not encouraged. I find myself drawn to the teachings of the Buddha so one of these days, if I really want to be serious about being Buddhist, I can see myself adopting the precepts (one of which is to not consume alcohol).

But until then I will enjoy my one beer on Saturday evening after a hard days work.

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The Sliding Glass Door

Books, Music, Art, Movies
There I am in print!

There I am in Black and White. woohoo!

The sliding Glass Door by Scott Poole.R and I received in the mail yesterday a book that we both had a hand in the development of. The Sliding Glass Door by Scott Poole. R designed the cover of the book and I took the author’s photo. I wrote a little bit about it, vaguely, in April when I went to Live Wire. It’s crazy to see it in the flesh! To pick it up and hold it. To turn to the verso and see my name right there! To see the photo that I took on page 67. It’s all very, very exciting!

This is my second photo credit for a book. The first was for a book called, The Real Work: essential slight of hand for street operators by Paul Price. I took some photos of hands demonstrating some of the tricks. I didn’t use my first name though. I am credited as M. Smith. I really regret that. I should’ve just used my full name.

But the past is the past and the present is here and presently, I am holding this fantastic book of poetry in my hands. R did a beautiful job on the cover. I’m so proud of him! And of myself. This is a day to remember.

Someone Who Has Influenced the Way I See the World


love – Photo by Moyan Brenn.

I’ve thought about this a lot lately. Obviously, there are many people who have shaped me into who I am today. One person who answered this question on Plinky mentioned that they are influenced by everyone they meet and I would have to agree with that completely. Everyone I come into contact with affects me and makes me who I am.

But I’ve lately been specifically thinking about my husband and how he has influenced me. He is the reason I am who I am at this moment. We have been together for the entirely of our adult lives, which is almost 20 years. We are best friends. We have been through so much together.

We have real conversations. Like really real. About life, the universe, and everything in between. Politics. Right and wrong. Religion. He makes me think. He has always made me think.

He actually likes to read stuff that I write and he encourages me in these creative pursuits. He gives me great feedback and suggestions. His feedback and encouragement have pushed me along, given me confidence to keep going and challenged me to see things in a different way.

He makes me laugh. His twisted sense of humor causes me to see humor in things that I might not otherwise.

I wonder what kind of a person I would be today if I hadn’t met him at Skate Church 20 years ago? I’m not sure I would recognize myself.

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My Dad vs. The Six Million Dollar Man.


Steve Austin vs. Inspector Gadget (338/365)Photo by JD Hancock.

When I was a kid my brother and I were really into the television shows, “The Six Million Dollar Man” and “The Bionic Woman” (I’m probably showing my age here). There were dolls that went along with these shows and we owned them and loved them. The dolls were nothing short of awesome. I can’t quite remember all of the details of their awesomeness but I remember that with one of them you could roll the “skin” on the arm up and see the secret robotics hiding underneath.

One day my dad came home from work and he was grouchy, as adults generally are when they come home from work (being a middle aged adult I know from experience). My brother had his Six Million Dollar Man doll laying the floor. My dad got kind of twitchy when us kids left stuff laying around. He liked things picked up. So when he walked in the door and tripped on Six Million Dollar Man he got pissed and threw the doll down the stairs (toward my brother’s room). I was totally devastated, and my brother was too. Poor Six Million Dollar Man’s robotic arm broke off, rendering him lame and ordinary.

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