A Photographer on a Journey

Lazy Sunday Reading

2011-10-16T15:28:00.002-04:00

many, many thanks to Dean Poling of the Valdosta Daily Times for this fantastic (and unexpected prior to him contacting me) Sunday feature article on my fine art photography and the Turner Center for the Arts show! So utterly grateful! http://valdostadailytimes.com/features/x345567966/Photographic-Journey-The-Old-Masters-style-of-Jacquelynn-Buck

The Turner Center for the Arts in Valdosta GA features Photography by Jacquelynn Buck

2011-09-23T13:55:00.001-04:00

You're Invited!

"Journey" - Photography by Jacquelynn Buck

Josette's Gallery inside the Turner Center for the Arts

Opening Monday September 26th, 5-7PM

Show runs through November 2nd

(Left photo, "Canyon Sentry" Photography by Jacquelynn Buck;

bottom right photo: the work of Walter Hobbs and

top right photo: the work of Po Chi Chu)

Day Seven: Revelations {7 days, 7 photos, 7 stories}

2011-08-22T11:10:00.000-04:00

If you've gotten anything from these last 7 days, it's maybe been more of a glimpse into my character and motivation towards my images than into the images themselves. But, as I suspected, the photos had a story to tell. And apparently it was a story about me. This is an incredibly insightful concept, though. Because this is the truth - the real story often lies under the surface, buried deeply, waiting for the right person with the right question to come along and ask. And then, listen.

Take the image above. You could have been there and spent a minute contemplating the boats on the water, the opaque backdrop of fog a pretty contrast and the only indication that this was not an "east coast" scene. You might have seen this. Admired it. Taken the photo and moved on.

Or.

Or you could linger for a moment. Sit a spell. Stop and watch and listen. Because what if the fog rolled away, as it clearly did, and revealed what was hidden on the horizon. What might you have missed if you'd assumed that what you saw was all that there was to see?

People are like that. A pretty, foggy scene that given enough patience, care and time, reveal something amazing underneath. What it takes it someone willing to spend enough energy reaching beyond the obvious to find the story waiting to be told. And as a photographer, that's what I try to do. To tell the story, the real story. Whatever that might be.

Whose story will you discover today?

Day Six: Perspective {7 days, 7 photos, 7 stories}

2011-08-21T13:35:00.004-04:00

You are unique. No one else in this world is like you are. And no one could ever replace you. You are you. Maybe you're not quite the person you want to be, yet. Maybe you are still on your journey - trying to discover the real you. Maybe you have arrived. But you are who you are meant to be. And embracing that is perhaps the only way to ever fully become.

Because I am who I am, and my perspective is mine and mine alone, every image that I take, every word that I speak, every thought that I have, is mine. It may initially have been something I found, heard, was inspired by, thought to try on for size, but once it was run through the filter of the person that I am, it becomes changed. Altered. Something unlike anything else. It is influenced by my past, by my present, by my opinions and quirks and inner self. And it is, therefore, uniquely and wholly mine.

They say everything has been done before. Every idea has been had. Every thought has been thunk. But I think they (whoever they are) are wrong. Because there are as many new ideas and new perspectives as there are people on this earth. If you are true to yourself, if you do not copy ideas and regurgitate thoughts but instead take what you find and make it your own, then you are well on your way. And no one can stop you.

This photo above is about perspective. It's about seeing something that lots of other people saw but making it my own. Is it an eye? Is it a staircase? Is it both? What do you see through the filter of the person you are? And how might you have done it differently?

Find perspective today. Take an idea and make it your own. Share it with someone who matters.

Day Five: Every Moment {7 days, 7 photos, 7 stories}

2011-08-20T11:03:00.000-04:00

Once I was chastised by a fellow photographer who told me, in no uncertain terms, to slow down. He thought perhaps that I was too quick to be the first one on the scene, that I moved too fast or too furiously to get where I was going. I heard what he said. I really did. But then I promptly decided to mostly disregard his advice. Because the thing is, I'm not moving quickly because I want to be the first one there. I'm moving quickly because I am that excited about getting where I'm going. I'm moving quickly because the undeniable urge to seize every moment is so tightly woven into the fabric of my being that I simply can't turn it off. I am a doer. I am a goer. And I cannot, don't want to, stop.

Within those parameters, though, I am not careless. I don't trample over others to get where I'm going. I don't risk the safety of anyone (other than myself occasionally) to achieve my end. And that, I think, is the difference.

This photo above is a result of the winning combination of being in the right place at the right time and of seizing the opportunity to move quickly into a situation that was perhaps a little dangerous. It was taken in Santa Barbara, CA at the old mission there during the Jesusita fires two years ago. I was aided by two lovely people who were willing to drive me into the fire, literally, when everyone else was driving away. And for this moment in time I felt very much like a war photojournalist might feel - completely abandoning any thought of personal safety to capture an epic moment.

So, yes, I tend to leap before I look. Yes, I sometimes head towards the fire when I should be walking away. And, yes, it has the potential to get me in trouble (ask me about the time I was almost arrested for trespassing and why I don't do it anymore) : ) But this character definition is clearly that - a definition. This is what makes me who I am. This drive to always move and see and do is what has helped me find my voice. My life is about seizing every moment - stepping up to it, assessing it, meeting the challenge and swallowing it whole. Living with intention. Walking to the edge. And taking a flying leap into the unknown, somehow trusting that I will fall gently.

However.

I have also been learning the art of slowing down. A little. God has a way of putting people in my life who have a strong enough presence and influence to urge me to pause, not because they think I am moving too fast, but because they recognize, as I am learning to, that the process of getting there is an enjoyable journey, and that arriving, while amazing, is maybe not what it's always about. And as I move towards finding balance, I can't say thank you enough to those willing to steady me along the way.

Day Four: Spirit {7 days, 7 photos, 7 stories}

2011-08-19T14:25:00.003-04:00

I've had a lot of people say a lot of things to me about my photography; most of them complimentary, some of them constructively critical (which I definitely appreciate), but all of them thought-provoking. I've had strangers come up to me and tell me that they can clearly identify my work from other's images, whether my name is on it or not. The mother of a family of five that I photographed told me that my work felt the way the music of Lori McKenna sounded (American folk rock if you care to google her. I did. And wow, what a compliment. There is a certain quality to that music that is both calming and soulful, filled with more than just rhythm and words). And one comment that recently resounded with me came from the mother of two boys I'd photographed. She looked me right in the eye and said that she had spent a lot of time on my portrait blog and that it was evident to her that there was "spirit" in my work.

Spirit.

What a word. And what a moment of truth, perhaps, for me. For, you see, the point of this story isn't to pat myself on the back for my accomplishments, but to say instead that it often eludes me how to convincingly communicate that what I do isn't about me. It isn't about the money. It isn't about climbing to new heights and achieving new goals. These things are all critical to owning a successful business, for certain. But for me, it's about the spirit. Without it - without the driving force of something undefinable, trailing like a thread that connects me to my photographs and my photographs to the people or subjects in them - then what, really, is the point? If there is spirit in my work it is only because that which I photograph has spirit, and I can only hope to translate that intangible something into an authentically, completely, utterly tangible thing, transcribing the essence of who or what I'm photographing into a permanent record of a moment lived and a story told.

Do I flatter myself in thinking that there really is something about my work that defines me from others? Do I wax vain in believing that this is truly the thing that I am meant to be doing, that the enthusiasm with which I greet every day and every photo shoot can not only energize and infect my subjects but also draw them out of themselves, allowing them to reveal the real person inside? Maybe. But if it keeps me going, then what's the harm in believing.

Day Three - Horizons {7 days, 7 photos, 7 stories}

2011-08-18T14:18:00.001-04:00

When I was a child I had these really cool books that I recall only as being titled "choose your own adventure." In these stories you always started at the same place, but after reading a few pages you'd suddenly be faced with a decision, and you were in charge of choosing what happened next. One choice told you to turn to a particular page while another lead you in a different direction. And on it went until you arrived at the conclusion you had dictated. The problem - I was never content with the ending. So I'd go back and read all the endings and then choose the perfect one.

There are days - there are always days - when I wish that life was like this series of books. I sometimes want to read ahead and find out what the ending is based on the choices offered up. I think this is why horizon views are always so appealing to me. Whether it's the sunrise over the mountains or the sunset over the rocky sea-tossed coast, I love looking out and being able to see everything, from here to eternity.
Or thinking that I can.

Seeing all your choices, and your endings, laid out before you would certainly make a difference in how you choose. But, really, what fun would that be? Because, let's face it, I may wish at times that I knew the ending, but I kind of love that I don't. I love the mystery of what lies ahead, the joy of discovering what happens as a direct result of the turns I take on the path I'm walking, and the satisfaction I have knowing the courage required to arrive without knowing the end. In truth, if every decision and every ending were clear, where would the adventure be?

Day Two - Doors {7 days, 7 photos, 7 stories}

2011-08-17T14:24:00.016-04:00

They say that the eyes are the gateway to the soul.

For me, doors are the gateway to mine.

Whenever I go, wherever I am, whoever I am meant to become, it will always be doors. Doors that are closed but are meant to be opened. Doors that are opened that cannot be closed. Doors that should maybe be closed but instead remain slightly ajar, waiting for the right time and place to be flung open wide to the deep blue sky and the story untold. The mystery lies in what quietly bides, just out of reach, for the decision to be made. The decision to open, to close, to look but not touch, or to walk resolutely by.

How might your life be altered if you choose one door over another? Could you bypass the right door? Or could that have been the best thing you never had? Will you ever actually know the answer? Not likely. And so, as we do, we press ever onward; choosing, closing, opening, and walking in the only direction that seems to work - forward and through.

7 days, 7 photos, 7 stories: Day One - Magic

2011-08-16T18:45:00.001-04:00

I am fortunate enough to be preparing for a photography show at the Turner Center for the Arts in Valdosta, GA that begins on Monday September 26th (opening is from 5-7PM). This show is a little different than others I've done because, as I review the thousands of images I've captured in the last 5 years, I'm not looking for the ones that I know are technically accurate. Instead I am listening for the ones that have stories to tell. And I am going to tell them, right alongside the photos.

So for the next 7 days I am going to be writing a blog a day - a teaser of some of the images you'll see if you come to the show. Some are images you've seen before, maybe here. Some are new even to me (first time round for edits). But all offer a glimpse into the journey - heavy with travel, poignant with memory, and fueled by a fire that just wants to burn brighter.

Day One: Magic

Many children make their first journey to Disney Land or Disney World at a young age. Hand in hand with their parents, they take the first steps towards what will become life-long vacation traditions that they'll then share with their children, soaring into imagination, dreams and magic with just a hint of pixie dust.

I, on the other, hand, didn't set foot in the world of Walt Disney until I was the ripe old age of 21. As a result, I went in with the mind of an adult with just a brief nod to my child's heart that still apparently hoped to be swept away to a time when eating ice cream for breakfast was perfectly acceptable and there was a beautiful fairy godmother waiting only to grant my every wish.

Despite being older than most, it turns out I was not, am not, immune to the magic of this place. I have, in the years between that one and this, been to both Disney World and Disney Land probably more than 20 times. Which isn't saying much when comparing it to those who go every year, or every weekend. But it's not a bad start. I don't, however, feel as though I am putting on rose colored glasses or living the life of an adult who only wants to be a child again (well, ok, maybe a little) upon entering through those arched gateways. Instead, as an adult, what I see is a world that has come to life beyond the planning and expectations of any who worked on it. I am, quite simply, in awe. I am in awe of this - one man's dream. I am in awe of everything that has come forward from that dream. I am in awe that it was one man with a vision and a willingness to defy anything that had been done before and do it anyway, despite what others thought, that made all of this possible. And then he didn't just do it. He out did it.

Walt Disney, for all that I can perceive, was one of the most forward-thinking individuals that ever walked this earth. No, he didn't invent the cure for cancer. No, he didn't achieve world peace. But what he did was create a place where people could go and leave behind their troubles. A place where the adult could become the child, and not be laughed at for wearing Mickey Mouse ears. A place where the culture of the creation infuses magic into both the people who visit and the people who work there. I am amazed at how we embrace - maybe need - this concept, at the way that adults and children alike spend money well-earned and long-saved to once a year or once in a lifetime make the trip to this empire - this world of imagination beyond any boundaries.

I have a friend who works for Disney Land, and through him I have been able to learn not just about the place, but a little about the man who created it, and a lot about the reasons and care and thought and detail that went into this world without end. And more than anything, I look at each excursion to Disney Land or Disney World as a reminder that all it takes is one person with the determination, against all odds, to make a dream happen. And I am refreshed in believing that this too could be, is, me.

Disney said it best: "Somehow I can't believe there are any heights that can't be scaled by a man who knows the secret of making dreams come true. This special secret, it seems to me, can be summarized in four C's. They are Curiosity, Confidence, Courage, and Constancy and the greatest of these is Confidence. When you believe a thing, believe it all the way, implicitly and unquestionably."

Well said. Now go out and live your dream. With a little bit of bibbity bobbity boo, anything is possible.

Santa Monica

2011-08-14T22:03:00.001-04:00

Sweet Southern California - why am I so drawn to you? Every chance I get, for business or pleasure, I find myself walking the Pacific coastline, lured in by the color and ridiculously temperate weather - blue skies, sunshine and low humidity. From the mountains, to the coast, to the beaches of LA and the charm and grit of the city - it really is the stuff of movies. Extremes around every corner, people watching like you cannot even imagine, and simply amazing hair days. Really, what's not to love?

On Maryland's Western Shore

2011-08-03T12:21:00.000-04:00

In a rare 20 minutes of down time on my last portrait road trip I took advantage of the early morning light to photograph a little piece of Rock Hall, MD. Nothing says MD like boats, crabs, and shore birds in flight over still water (not necessarily in that order). Enjoy!

Sand between my toes

2011-07-09T14:45:00.001-04:00

If you've been a devoted reader of this blog you'll maybe know that I have an affinity for the sea. More than any other place on earth, here, where the salt, sun and seagulls mull together like the best muddled mojito, I can find the most certain of paths to tranquility. Daily traversing the length of the beach, collecting rough worn pebbles and shells, tilting my head back to drink in the briny breezes; these things are divine therapy for any soul. The sand between my toes, the susurrus of the sea grass and the crash of the water, endlessly beating its rhythm on the shore, sing the song that lulls me under. Here is peace. Here is vacation.

And though I do find the time to relax, even I can't sit still for long. And so, within the parameters of beach walking and shell collecting, there's always room for a little bit of sightseeing. And no better place in Miami than Vizcaya a formerly private home, in era with the Biltmore (another of my favorite destinations) where the rich came to play and escape the cold northern climates when Florida was wild with nothing more than swamps, gators, birds and sea. The inside of the home was off limits for photographs, but their gardens were fair game!

Retro-Fabulous Miami

2011-06-18T17:20:00.000-04:00

Art Deco and Miami - can you think of one without the other? Vibrant. Geometric. Architecturally identifiable. Historically relevant buildings originating in the 1920s and 1930s Ultramodern then. Retro-fabulous now. Add in a few palm trees, some unique murals, a few Charleston-esque gates and you have one colorful journey.

Bienvenido a Miami

2011-06-17T16:25:00.000-04:00

Five glorious, sunny, beach-filled, mojito-drinking, Cuban food eating, delicious and delightful days in Miami with the hubby. Oh, I miss it already!

Post 1 of 6 : ) - South Beach, the food, the character, the people and the drinkies.

(come back for Little Havana, Art Deco, the Beach, Vizcaya and the Night Life)

Around South Beach

cafe con leche. mmmmm.

Pork Belly, Ceviche and Avocado/Tomato Salad. Cuban delights!

Drinkies!

Coral Gables

The Seaquarium

Our fabulously delicious dinner at Zuma

some iPhone group shots : )

the waiter took this one

Colorful and Classic: Cars gone Wild

2011-05-27T23:05:00.000-04:00

So one good thing (ok, yes, there's maybe more than one) about my husband now owning a classic car (1970 Plymouth Roadrunner if you didn't already know. Lime green. But I digress) is that he frequently goes to car shows with the big green machine. And no, the good thing isn't that he's out of my hair, but that when I go with him I get the chance to see some vehicles that are oldies, goodies, and in fine condition. So this time I took along a favorite lens and created some, well, unusual views. Enjoy!

meep meep! this one belongs to my husband!

Southern Sojourn

2011-04-30T17:00:00.001-04:00

Well, OK, so when you live in GA there really isn't much farther south you can go, other than Florida. But to most people, South Carolina is the South. And though I am temporarily a Georgia peach, I won't always be, and I will always think of South Carolina when the south is on my mind. I recently had the opportunity to spend two afternoons revisiting some of my favorite places - Edisto Beach and Charleston. And because I am doing a 365 blog using only the iPhone (you can see the past four months here http://www.crimsonstripe.com/photos/jacquelynnbuck) I have been using the iPhone a lot more than the camera for travel photography. It's interesting to me, however, that despite the fact that I am using a phone (and yes, I know it's an iPhone and has a kick butt camera), the photos are quite pleasing to me. I'll never forgo the real deal in favor of a phone - that would be silly - but particularly for places I've been to many times before, it's almost a creative challenge to see what I can accomplish with simply a hand held device. And there's definitely a sense of freedom to it as well - small, compact, portable - the world at my fingertips!

So I share it, with you. Enjoy - from Edisto to Charleston.

self portrait - beachy!

these next few I took in Walterboro, SC - a much more rural point equidistant from both Edisto and Charleston.

Around the World using only the iPhone

2011-03-26T10:28:00.000-04:00

ok, so it's not really around the world. But Epcot does a darn fine job of replicating some of the most noteworthy landmarks across the continents - I have reason to know having been to several of these places for real. But the magic of Epcot is that you can see it all, in miniature, in under an hour, and eat and drink your way somewhat authentically through some of the coolest places.

My personal review if you want to know: the pretzels are better in the real Germany, the Fish and Chips in Epcot's England are just as good as the real deal, the French pastries are definitely better in France, the Gelato is much better abroad but still worth a try in Disney's version of Italy, the Tequila bar in Epcot's Mexico is my new default location for drinking and Tequila tastes just as divine wherever you're drinking it! and the beer, well, the beer is as genuine as it gets, no matter which country you're in.

Every chance I get, every time I'm in Orlando (which happens much more frequently now that we're a short 3ish hour drive) I take a stroll around Epcot and experience the wonders of the world, condensed, but still worth the journey.

the mountains win again

2011-03-13T23:30:00.002-04:00

once upon a time there was a girl who yearned for the desert. who felt that the song of mountains called to her in a way that perhaps the wet streams and valleys of the east did not. she spent her days longing for every breathtaking panorama seen from an airplane that brought her closer to the rugged, desolate majesty; for all the 23rd floor views of the sunset and sunrise over the jagged peaks of forever, for all the glitz and glamor of a city walled in on all sides by nothing. We always want what we do not, or cannot, have. But perhaps that's what makes the having, if even only temporary, so worth the wait. Every time I approach the mountains, see the red rock formed from things I cannot even comprehend, made so long ago that I don't dare to imagine; every time I drive a straight and narrow road that goes into eternity, yellow lines stretching farther than the eye can see; every time I taste the tang of the dry, cool air that lacks the saturated feel of the eastern seaboard, I know that I am in a place that I could call home. But until then, or until never, all I have are these fading glimpses of the stark and restless abandon of the high desert and all that follows after.

Enjoy one of my favorite songs while you peruse : )

images from Red Rock Canyon, Valley of Fire, and LasVegas

{apologies Misty Enright, for this last photo if it was yours. I know I downloaded some of your images from when I had picked up your camera along the way (or grabbed it from you) so I am not sure if this is yours or mine. I think it might be yours...but I like it. So consider it shared credit : ) }

2011-02-16T08:03:00.001-05:00

New Orleans

2011-02-03T22:26:00.000-05:00

While visiting this most muggy city in the heat of August I took more photographs than even I could blog the first round...or even the second (and that's saying a lot). So, while working on a small side project I came across some that were definitely worth sharing! Enjoy another glimpse into NOLA. A city of contradictions.

The Sound of the South

2011-01-18T13:17:00.001-05:00

Pebble Hill Plantation. Thomasville GA.
The sun filters through the wisps of spanish moss dangling from the overwintered branches above. the quiet is absolute at times, broken only by the twitter of birds hopping from tree to bush and the occasional but distant whuff of a horse shaking his head and blowing flies off his nose. though this plantation isn't very old, the seemingly ancient and achingly tall oaks give the impression that many wanderers have gone before me, walking these same dirt roads, shadowed by these same arches, listening to these same sounds, leaving footsteps that no longer are visible except as ghostly shapes in the wind of memory. if you listen very closely, you can hear the clip clop of horse drawn carriages, the laughter of children, the call of a dog to hunter when prey becomes victim. this home is one of the many, some crumbling and invisible, some dwindling on the edge of forgotten, that line the now-paved roads of civilization. here and there, tucked out of sight and away from the chatter of daily life, the cotton still grows. the fields, though less of them, are still tilled for profit. and the world that once was meets the traveler of today who wishes to remember. this is history come to life. this is the sound and the season of the south. listen.

the quiet approach to Christmas

2011-01-01T14:35:00.002-05:00

(experimenting with multi media)

My husband and I decided to take the quiet approach to Christmas this year since we couldn't be with our families (located about 15 hours north and buried in a foot of snow, poor babies), and did so gratefully on one of the most peaceful places on the planet - the remote Georgia coastline's Jekyll Island.In a lovely historic hotel (the Jekyll Island Golf Club) that's been a part of the island's history for many years, on a lovely southern winter day with temps topping 60s, with the crash of the ocean and the call of the gulls and the friendly waves of strangers connected in Christmas away from home, we rang in one of the most magical and religious of days on the Christian calendar. And as always, I found the solitude to be not only soul lifting, but soul quieting, and a very special memory at the close of 2010. Enjoy the photos. And let 2011 be one where you find the quiet soul connections that help you move forward with your dreams.

the island wildlife

driftwood beach

the hotel

the sunset over the intracoastal waterway

the piper who played christmas tunes on christmas eve

inside the hotel

along the water

aaron enjoying the peace and sunset views

Christmas at the Biltmore

2010-12-17T17:52:00.000-05:00

Oh joyous time of year, when the brisk chill of winter whirls and swirls, when the cheery lights of the season wink on in windows and dangle, glowing and swaying from shingles and shrubbery in homes across the world. The sights, sounds and smells of Christmas are all around. And there's simply no better place, in my opinion, to celebrate this most glorious season than the Biltmore Estate in Asheville NC, because nothing says Christmas like a 40 foot pine laden with gifts and ornaments large enough to hold court alone under our most humble household tree that are instead dwarfed in size by the others they share stage with. And oh yes, the snow. Ordered special for us, I suspect. How amazing to wake to a wonderland of white, sun rays struggling to peek through gray clouds, illuminating bare branches heavy with ice, glinting and shimmering in the light. And even better than all of that alone is sharing it with friends, and with husbands just returned from far off lands fighting wars we wish we didn't have. From me to you, dear followers, I wish you and yours a Very Merry Christmas and a peaceful new year!

"We hear the beating of wings over Bethlehem and a lightthat is not of the sun or of the stars shines in the midnight sky. Let thebeauty of the story take away all narrowness, all thought of formalcreeds. Let it be remembered as a story that has happened again and again,to men of many different races, that has been expressed through many religions,that has been called by many different names. Time and space and languagelay no limitations upon human brotherhood" - New York Times

Yes, Christmas - that magic blanket that wraps itself about us,that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave aspell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, butalways it will be a day of remembrance - a day in which we think of everythingwe have ever loved. - Augusta E. Rundel

having a blue Christmas (blue doesn't need to mean sad!)

wine tasing! who can resist?

reflections!

ingenious people built snowmen.

staying warm in the greenhouse.

just for fun!

Rich & K.C. frolicking in the snow!

inside the Inn at Biltmore

the difference a day can make!

Glimpses of Me

2010-11-12T16:56:00.005-05:00

In February of this year, after returning from yet another amazing journey to Las Vegas and WPPI, I decided to make some changes. Inspired by one of the speakers at the conference, Mary Marantz (http://www.justinmarantz.com), I concluded that my "about me" page on my website was a boring, oft repeated mantra of "this is where I grew up, this is why I love photography." Not that I thought there was anything wrong with that - it got the job done. But I wanted something more. I wanted to tell a story, or start to, with the same creativity and truth that I try to use when I tell the stories of my clients. So with my usual speed and motivation to complete something, especially when driven by the passion that is my blessing and occasionally my curse, I revised and updated my "about me" page a little over a month, and many revisions, later. I am satisfied with the result. I believe it gives readers, followers, clients and friends a glimpse into the every day me, into the person I am and the person I want to be. And today I decided to add to that via blog. There are a few things I left off the list of what I love (and have now added to the website). But here's a detailed version. Enjoy!

Love: indulging in retail therapy moments, especially in regards to on-sale sexy shoe shopping. Score today - one pair of silvery glittery strappy ready to dance stiletto heels that make me think that it's been too long since I've been clubbing. And to further justify the purchase, my friend Katy Perry comes on the in-store radio with her oh-so-catchy "Wakin' up in Vegas" song. Flooded with the overwhelming urge to shake it combined with almost-lust for blood pumping dance remixes, I stride confidently towards the checkout counter and spend 25 well earned dollars, committed to using these in January when my hubby and I hit up the Miami scene for the first time.

Love: fresh flowers and arranging said flowers in my creative collection of glass vases that I manage to tote from state to state without breaking. Today, Publix market and their fresh selection woo me with bright fall colors that bring me back to my own fall wedding bouquet, 9 years and one month ago. There's something so cheerful and romantic about bouquets and the art of displaying them is almost as therapeutic as shoe shopping. Almost.

Love: the satisfying crack of the spine of a new book. In this case, four new books. Yes, I am an informed consumer crossed with a techno geek. I definitely follow the trends, though do my research first. I own the iPhone 4. I'm seriously considering an iPad (strictly for business, of course). And don't even get me started on cameras. But for all the rave reviews of the Kindle and similar devices, I cannot seem to transition from the real feel of pages between my fingers to yet another computer screen to stare at. Yes, I've seen how realistic it is. Yes I understand downloading new books is cheaper (especially at the rate I read) than buying hardcovers. But I. still. can't. do. it. I love books. I love folding over the corners to mark my place. I love the smell of new ink on new paper. I just do. So thank you, Amazon, for making my inability to get on board with technology still somewhat affordable.

High Cotton

2010-10-31T16:55:00.000-04:00

I love this time of year around here - cotton puffs everywhere. If you've never seen it, grown or harvested, you're missing out!

Rothenburg, Germany!

2010-10-15T14:41:00.000-04:00

I was simply charmed by Rothenburg. Completely the vision I had when I pictured small German towns, ripe with history. Enjoy!

Heidelburg, Germany!

2010-10-12T13:28:00.001-04:00

My first excursion into Deustchland was definitely one for the memory books. It was only a short trip comparative to the size of the country, but still I felt like my friend and I covered much ground. Our first stop on the Romantic Road was Heidelburg, complete with a real medieval castle, partly in ruins and partly rebuilt (as they all seem to be) and a wicked steep climb to the top, but totally worth it for the view, both inside and out. I had one of the best meals ever at the hotel restaurant - authentically German of course - and again at lunch. Sausage and Sauerkraut and Schnitzel, oh my! And did I mention the BEER. Delicious varieties and sizes. All told, an excellent start to only three days on the road. Have a look!

early morning silhouettes. I was up with the sun to see the sites.

in and around the city squares.

fall was falling.

up to the castle we go!

one of three largest wine barrels ever. Apparently only filled 18 times since the middle ages. But larger than two grown men standing one on top of the other and longer than perhaps four of those same men.

Canci resting after the climb!

lots of weddings!

breakfast, lunch and dinner. and beer. and German Eis Wein (Ice Wine) and a German Riesling. Yum!

the city, by night.

Leiden, Holland

2010-10-07T20:00:00.001-04:00

Leiden: charming, quaint. simple. beautiful. dutch. enough said!

he totally posed for me!

the station!

delicious donut thing. language barrier but not a fail. it had a surprise cherry filling. yum!

lunch! tosti and soup!

no idea. but there was a big carnival the night before. I can only assume that had something to do with this!

one of these things is not like the other...

Old Amsterdam

2010-10-05T19:01:00.008-04:00

This was my second time in Amsterdam, having visited once before on my first trip to Holland almost 10 years ago. I am not sure much had changed, though much about me has. It was interesting to see the city with 10 years of life lived to color my impressions. I went again to the Van Gogh museum and found myself rushing through, not really appreciating the art the way I did the first time. I walked the city streets, still somewhat aimlessly wandering, lost at times, but with a better sense of direction and leaning much less towards intimidation when wrong turns and completely unfamiliar street names cropped up. As they always do. I attempted the language more, but, today, English is practically an official tongue in the Netherlands and so it wasn't really necessary. Though still polite to try!
But, really, I recall a moment, 10 years ago, sitting on a park bench in this same city, feeling utterly alone and small in the world. I was lost, hungry, felt isolated by the language and cultural differences, stymied by the map, and constantly had to shake the urge to look over my shoulder and guard my bag lest some random stranger, having stalked me to said park bench, was waiting to leap out of the bushes and run away with my camera. My film camera. Indeed, much has changed. Perhaps the world is getting smaller? Perhaps my adventurousness and frequent travels have made me more savvy and less bothered by chance and change? And perhaps things just are...different...the second time around, with some things worth repeating, and some better left undone (because sometimes the first time really is the best), and some simply seen more clearly when seen again.Whatever the reason, Amsterdam was both old and new again, for me. And while I certainly have changed, for the better, and grown, in the best of directions, travel is still a way for me to feel the wild thrill of adventure coursing through my veins. Whether it's in the first impressions or in the repeat performances.

in a study of the impressionists. perhaps Van Gogh's influences have become mine?

my new favorite bier. sweet. awesome. crisp. more like cider but more hoppy. yum!

The Signs Say

2010-10-04T19:11:00.000-04:00

After reviewing my photos from Amsterdam today I found I had taken a number of sign photos. I am sure to the average Dutchperson these signs are no more interesting than Stop signs are to Americans, however, to be fair, I also take photos of Stop signs. So maybe I just like the idea of signs. Telling you where you are. Reminding you what to do (or that rules are made to be broken, in some cases). Giving you a sense of place, of what's important, of what's critical even. Signs, with and without words, help tell the story. Here are just a few...reminding me that, yes, indeed, I am not in Kansas anymore.

Being Dutch, day 1

2010-10-03T07:54:00.001-04:00

rainy dusk in Den Bosch

I do love coming here. And while my purpose this time around is two-fold - to visit my friends Canci and Ronald, but also to photograph Sophie and Roelof's wedding on Friday! - I always enjoy a bit of siteseeing. Here are some photos from my first day in Holland (which was a day that turned into an evening that turned into the next morning, on jet lag, but totally worth it). Some are from the Saturday mad market rush in Utrecht and some from the evening in Den Bosch (where I attended my first hen party, with some of Canci's lovely university friends and former colleagues). All of these were all taken with my iPhone and processed with a very cool iPhone app. Loving having some fun by limiting myself to only certain tools! And very portable ones at that. And, as always, loving visiting with Canci and just, well, being Dutch!

Sint Jans Cathedral

Utrecht market french fries - curry kethcup, mayo and onions. I'm hooked!

train from Utrecht to Den Bosch

Utrecht

City scenes in Den Bosch

Canal view in Utrecht

evening falls in Den Bosch

Sunday Morning Breakfast!

Every Vote Counts in this Stairing Contest

2010-09-30T09:39:00.002-04:00

I love collaborations! Especially with my Cali peeps. Just wish I could see the real world display in person! Maybe another trip is called for? Hmmmm. But if you can't make it to CA, never fear - you can online vote by visiting the blog below:

http://jasonbarrettphoto.blogspot.com/2010/09/lets-have-stairing-contest.html
The Quick Explanation
It's A Stairing Contest!
Vote for your Favorite! Check out four unique perspectives (yes, one of them mine!) when it comes to Stairs.

Categories:
Iron
Black and White
Stairs with a Human Model
Spiral
Interpretive Stairs.

Find the images and details on that blog link above and make your selections by leaving a comment (simply type the category and choose "A," "B," "C," or "D" for each).

And if you happen to be in California, you can actually check out the photos in person at at The Last Drop Cafe in Claremont, CA (located in The Village at 119 Harvard Ave., (909) 482-1870). They have graciously agreed to display our work!!

Thanks Jason, Rico and Chris for making this happen in the "real" and not just virtual world. You guys are all awesome!

The Jersey Shore!

2010-09-23T23:05:00.000-04:00

Love me some Jersey Shore - the grit of the boardwalk, the neon signs, the junk food, the smell of sunscreen and salt air, the sunburned faces of children, cotton candy clutched in their hands, eyes turned up in amazement to the whirling swirling lights of the amusements summer brings. It certainly takes me back to time well-spent when I, too, was a child. Glad I'm not too old to still appreciate the wonders. And a waffle with ice cream (a must!).

Curves Ahead

2010-09-10T16:14:00.000-04:00

The joy is in the journey, but for me it's even more in the negotiation of the curves ahead. The thrill of the unexpected. The finding of friends in places you weren't looking. The delight in collaborations with partners, old and new, that arise from simple conversations. The excitement when the timing works out....just right. My life is, has been, and continues to be all of these things. Real Women has been, and continues to be, all of these things as well.
Here's how it happened.
A wish turned into an idea turned into a plan. The plan became a vision that became a reality. The concept spoke to some women, some of who graciously have allowed me to use their images, with and without names, to show the world that they, that women, are beautiful just as they are. And it continues to speak to women, nationwide. I was invested enough in the concept to pursue, and obtain, the trademark for Real Women Photography. I wrote an article, from the heart, on how this concept came to life, on how inspiration is the motivation for a dream to become the truth. And then the article was published, in Rangefinder Magazine. And on the heels of that, with the encouragement from a friend, I moved even closer to the dream by putting myself in the running for a speaking slot at the Wedding and Portrait Photographer's International Convention in Las Vegas in February 2011. And was accepted. I'll be speaking, demonstrating, motivating (I hope) on Real Women in a two hour master's class. And tonight, debuting at the Color of Energy Gallery in Dayton OH, some of my Real Women, who alone are fine art, have been elevated to the status of a gallery showing. Sometimes, the joy is in the journey. But it's also in the negotiation, and thrill of, the curves ahead.

New York City

2010-08-23T21:40:00.003-04:00

The city that never sleeps. the big apple. or {thank you Jay-Z} "the concrete jungle where dreams are made of."

What is it about New York? I grew up a brief hour-ish bus ride from this city and spent many a weekend trailing behind my Baba as we made our way from Bloomingdales to Saks to Lord and Taylor to Saint Patrick's Cathedral to Rockefeller Center to Broadway to Rumplemeyers to the Plaza Hotel to FAO Schwartz to Times Square to Carnegie Deli and back. This was my childhood. This kind of travel, this exposure to culture and to places outside of the comfort of my eastern PA world, helped form me into the person I am today. In other words, my grandmother is the reason travel is my drug of choice. And New York City is where it all began.

Going back to the city as an adult I appreciated it from a completely different perspective. Gone is the child who used to tap dance on the stairs of the Sheraton hotel, wishing she was Shirley Temple. In her place is a grown woman, though perhaps with no less desire for attention, certainly with more appreciation for a) what things cost and b) the benefit of having someone with me who knows her way around (yes, that's you Misty, thank GOD you were there because letmejusttellyou that I would still be wandering the streets, alone, with my camera and my very heavy 70-200VR that you made me buy). But I digress.

Taking it one step further, seeing the city through the lens is also a new experience for me. Because while I have been back several times through the years, this was really and truly the first time I'd had a "real" camera with me. And with a slew of lenses at my disposal, I didn't know where to look first, or which lens to use, or where to stop in the event that one step in any direction would result in my getting run over {splat} by a mad cabbie. Just try to follow the erratic pattern of my brain as you view the pics. Up, down, all around, fisheye, zoom, wide angle oh my. And let's not even talk about why I cannot decide if NYC looks better in color, sepia, black and white or some other funky hue.

Let's face it - this is the stuff dreams are made of, in any color, through any lens, and at any age. Enjoy!

Pastrami, where are you when I need you?

2010-08-18T23:35:00.004-04:00

It's been 18 days since I blogged just because. 18 days. 432 hours. 25,920 minutes. how do you measure a day? in daylights? in sunsets? in midnights? in cups of coffee? (humming along). Or maybe in what you're missing. What are you missing from your life right now? Is it something you've always had that you don't have anymore? Is it someone? Is it a feeling that's lost? Or one you've never had? Is it a place you spent a lot of time as a child that you no longer have access to? Do you live everywhere and thus nowhere, always looking forward to going back to that place? THAT place where you can find IT again, whatever it is. Can you ever go back?
Some things you can go back for. Pastrami happens to be one of them. Well, unless you live in Valdosta GA, like I do. Google was decidedly unhelpful when researching whether anywhere in Valdosta carried the one thing I am craving. But it's OK. Because not having makes the having that much better when you can finally have it. And thus there's always Pastrami to look forward to. In CA, yes. Been there, loved that. In Atlanta maybe? I'll let you know in November. In NYC for sure, every time I go. But, why this? Why now? For some odd reason Pastrami has been on my brain lately. Perhaps it's because of a recent (and delicious) post of a photographer friend and his wife regarding Pastrami. Or maybe it's because I just went through my photos from NYC and came across the ones from the incredible, edible, amazing Carnegie Deli. Or maybe it's just because I have this sinking suspicion that I cannot have what I want most ardently right now - which is a thick, juicy, melt in your mouth, mold the bread around it, fat and calories don't count pastrami sandwich. So I guess I'll just have to wait. And drool. And look ahead, knowing that whatever IT is, it will be better for the waiting.

DC by dusk and by dark

2010-07-31T12:32:00.000-04:00

I didn't spent a lot of time photographing landmarks while in DC this time, but I did manage to snap a few. DC is as beautiful a city by night as it is by day - maybe more so. See what you think.

Sugar Shock

2010-07-30T14:12:00.002-04:00

I love visiting Washington, DC because, quite honestly, of the food. I really think that despite it being the center of our political infrastructure, a city of tales and history, and in general an architectural mecca, it's the food that brings me back. My stomach grumbles happily in anticipation when I begin my final approach. And I never leave disappointed. It helps that Leah, one of my best friends and oh, btw, a tried and true foodie, lives there and has thankfully worked her way methodically through the offerings of the city, so she knows where to take me.
On this trip we dined for my birthday at Proof (fabulous) where I discovered what is now my favorite Chardonnay (Martinelli Zio if you care). We had dessert at CoCo Sala, a chocolate lover's dream (though not really the place to meet men, if you're looking. It was a very female-centric locale with tons of ladies getting their chocolate on). We lunched at Two Amy's Neapolitan Pizzaria where I had the real deal Margherita Extra pizza with Tomato, mozzarella di bufala, and cherry tomatoes (the only time I've had better was in Sicily last summer), and the most delicious deviled eggs with this crazy pesto sauce (trust me, it was incredible). And, of course, despite the hype, went into sugar shock over Georgetown Cupcakes. I was determined to try every flavor that called to me, so I bought 6: Coconut, Caramel Sea Salt (my hands down fav), Vanilla, Red Velvet, Maple (at Leah's request..not my favorite but only because I don't care for maple unless it's on pancakes) and Lemon. Leah, her husband, and I slowly, carefully worked our way through them, making them last over the course of 24 hours. And let me tell you, if you're an icing fan (and not just that fluff icing that's more sugar than substance) and you love flavorful cake, this is the place to go. Even if you have to stand in line (yes, we did. For 45 minutes in the middle of the day).

I only took photos at Georgetown Cupcake...so below is my tribute to a few delicious days spent in DC. Enjoy! And thank you, Leah, for not just being right about every restaurant, but for hosting me for days on end :)

Air Force Memorial near Washington DC

2010-07-27T21:48:00.002-04:00

When I initially blogged this series, I didn't feel the need to write any words to accompany the images. Or not many words. I suppose it's partly because I was absorbing still the purpose and meaning of this site, but perhaps also because, quite honestly, the air force is my life, so what more is there to really say? But looking back I feel a bit remiss in not having said something about the feelings evoked within me, walking around the memorial, looking at the remembrances that others are leaving behind for fallen airmen. And I definitely feel that I should have acknowledged the emotions that rose to the surface when I looked at the shiny black wall etched with the long list of wars that we have fought, some with start and end dates neatly inscribed, some with only start dates because we're still there, with no end in sight. A small part of me shuts this kind of thing down because, being married to an airman, an airman who fights these wars, I don't want to see it. I don't want to know about it. I just want it to go away. But the reality is that it probably never will. And for some, their loved ones don't come home from conflict. And every day I should, and would if I could, muster up the courage to be conscious of that fact and grateful for every person who has been braver than me and stepped forward to serve.

Off we go...

Lafayette Cemetery

2010-07-18T13:54:00.000-04:00

I know, it's a bit odd. But I love cemeteries. And something about the ones in New Orleans really appeal to me. Peaceful. Full of history. And, visually, there's literally something around every corner - broken tiles, rosaries dangling from rusted metal gates, dried, brown, lifeless flowers, dessicated from the heat and sun. All remembrances left by the living in honor of the dead. Would that we could all be remembered so well...and that someone, years from now, might be creatively inspired by our final resting place. Creepy? Yeah, OK, a little.

New Orleans - a first look!

2010-07-17T23:22:00.000-04:00

Talk about a photographer's dream come true - old doors, windows, lamp posts, interesting people, delicious food.. A city in rebirth, a historic district defined by its past, looking towards its future. The grit of Bourbon street. The sugar of beignets and chicory coffee. The slight despair of people living on the street. The sweet sound of musicians playing their songs. A city of contrasts. A city of lights. A city of liquor. A city of sites, sounds, senses engaged. Have a look. See what you think. I think you'll be back for more. And I promise I have more to share.

Adding the ing

2010-07-15T01:22:00.003-04:00

Do you know what's worse than a deflated balloon? A deflating balloon. More tortuous than a run? Running. Sweeter than love? Falling in love. Better than a well-traveled person? Traveling.

There's something about adding the "ing" to the end of most words that intensifies the feeling attached. I mean, yes a deflated balloon is sad, but it has potential. Maybe the balloon can still be inflated? But a deflatING balloon is on its way to being over, potential slowly seeping out as wrinkles appear in the once solid shape and form.

Or take running. A popular form of exercise the world over. If I've gone for a run I am proud (and thrilled that it's over). But goING for a run, or, the act of runnING, well, let's just say I prefer the past tense :)

Consider the "ing" from a positive place. Like love. Oh, love. To be in love is grand. To have loved is fortunate. But the act of fallING in love is poetic. Chemical. The act of lovING is heady.

And then there's my own personal favorite - travel. To be well-traveled is a boon. To have traveled creates a story. But to be planING travel is delicious. To be travelING is superb. My Mecca.

What is it about the "ing"? I suppose adding those three tail letters implies action rather than finished or forthcoming moments. And for the most part (save running) I'd rather be in the act of something than looking forward or looking back. The world looks better to me from a blur of motion. To do, to be, to act, rather than to stay still. This is my preference. And now that I've completed another fabulous trip, and am anticipating a few more, I can only confirm that I'd rather be Falling. Loving. Planning. Traveling. I'd rather be an "ing".

Wouldn't you?

What's your "ing"?)

PS - up next: New Orleans! Dazzling!

Chicago!!

2010-07-05T23:01:00.010-04:00

No, I didn't really do the tourist thing. I pretty much got on the train in Homewood, got off the train downtown, and spent five hours photographing my clients. But - those first five minutes are emblazoned forever in my memory as I practically drooled over the architecture, neck craned at an odd and uncomfortable sideways tilt, trying to capture the amazing towering overwhelmingly beautiful Gothic or not buildings staring down at me, illuminated by early sunlight and converging into points of obscene but somehow appropriate angles as viewed through the fish eye lens. And then, when the session was over, I walked the theatre district, snapping away, until I found my final destination - Blackbird - a fine fierce fresh food establishment with a top rated award winning chef (Food and Wine July 2010). One word - YUM.

What a city. What a day. Whirlwind but so totally worth it. And, oh yeah, I'm definitely going back.

Gulf Shore Cleanup - First Hand

2010-06-29T20:46:00.000-04:00

During a recent visit to Mobile, AL I had the opportunity to see first hand the volunteer and paid "clean up the oil" efforts going on along the Gulf Shore. The view from Orange Beach, while hot, sticky and bright, was not as grim as I had anticipated. I'm not sure what I envisioned, but it might have been more dramatic - like dead oil slicked wildlife washed up on the shore, a beach devoid of people, tar like patches floating on the water. And the fact that I didn't see these things doesn't mean that this isn't a very serious problem. The beach was definitely more empty than it should be in this peak season. There was an odd slick of orange on the water. And the people in Hazmat suits dragging things out of the water definitely was not normal. But I was heartened to note that despite the downtrodden economy that now is even more depressed thanks to a general lack of tourism because of no swim advisories, the concern and willingness to help in the community, with projects both large and small, seems to be paying off.
My friend, Irwin, lives in that area and his take on it was one of sympathy for those living along the coast who derive their only sources of income from the water...it's these people who are the most affected. The shrimpers, the hotel and rental agencies, and interestingly even the wedding trade as people who originally had planned for destination weddings remove to alternative locations, canceling the services they scheduled many months in advance. But the overall feeling was one of bonding together in the face of adversity. It's hard to imagine one person, or one group of people, making a difference in something so devastating. But small, local efforts when added together are a force to be reckoned with. And in the end, every little bit helps.

Irwin told me that the water is normally the color (as seen above).

San Diego!!

2010-06-24T22:33:00.005-04:00

No post is necessary. This city speaks for itself. The color. The history. The flavor. I'd move to the Italian District in a hot minute. I'd wake every morning to my windows thrown wide, curtains flapping in the cool sea breeze. I'd greet the day with a walk to my favorite sidewalk cafe for a hot, foamy cappuccino and people watching. I spend the afternoon photographing in an endless variety of naturalcoastalurban settings. And I'd wind down with a glass of wine or a good, flavorful beer at one of the hundreds of amazing restaurants. Then maybe I'd find a local fruit and veggie stand, buy hand picked ingredients, and throw together something fresh and delicious in my well stocked kitchen (complete with custom appliances) that also, by the way, has a ocean view. Well, I can dream can't I?

In the City

Balboa Park & Old Town

Little Italy

Point Loma Lighthouse & Hotel del Coronado

Cable Cars and Crossing Bridges

2010-06-21T20:28:00.000-04:00

While in San Francisco, I, of course, took photos of the very famous Cable Cars and the less famous but still much-utilized Oakland Bay Bridge. And, yes, of the Golden Gate Bridge as well - at least of what was visible in the May gray/June gloom thing.What was so amazing to me re the Golden Gate, though, was that the fog really seemed to be isolated just around this spot. It didn't affect the Bay Bridge, it didn't really even make it into the city while I was there. It just hovered, densely obscuring the view, over the brilliant red/orange of one of the most familiar California icons. I wasn't terribly disappointed, but only because I've see the Golden Gate in all its glory, clear and crisp as the fall morning when Aaron and I first traveled to San Francisco (almost 10 years ago). And having seen it both fogged in and clear, I believe I might prefer the fog. It's a mystery waiting to emerge. It's visible and then it's not. It's there and then it's gone. I kind of like the life metaphor that brings up for me. Of course, it might also have to do with the fact that I had the absolute privilege of seeing the Golden Gate from the perspective of the captain of a sail boat, dodging the waves and cutting through the mist, watching the bridge fade off into nothingness from high and directly above me. I definitely believe that is the coolest perspective I've ever had. Thanks, Bill, for the amazing opportunity and stellar view. Definitely something I'll never forget.

A Wrinkle in Time: San Francisco's China Town

2010-06-18T20:03:00.001-04:00

Because I've lately focused on portrait and wedding photography, I find myself seeing the beauty of people sometimes more than places. The wrinkles of time that run deep on the faces of those who've walked the earth much longer than me. The smile and laugh lines that tell tales better than words ever could. Of course, what my camera is drawn to depends on where I am, who I'm with (if anyone) and whether I'm awed by what's around me or motivated to look deeper. But generally I'm inspired by people, suffused with energy from losing myself in crowds, invited into their stories and histories through conversation and interaction. But after the solemnity of nature found in the coastal drive, being in the crowded cities was all a bit exhausting, even for me. Enter China Town, San Francisco. If ever there is a place to be overwhelmed by people - this was it. Milling about, roaming, bumping into one another, pushing and shoving, shopping, site seeing, but mostly just living life. I was immersed in a buzzing hive of daily activity that went on irrespective of the tourist world that existed not far from the streets I wandered. So after hiking the steep hills in search of Lombard street I was sweaty, hot, irritated and lost (because no, I really cannot read a map at all, apparently). So I waded through China Town and pulled up a quiet curb for a minute to just gather my thoughts. And then I turned around. And there she was. I hesitated. I was so close to her. How could I surreptitiously take a photo? Normally there's a certain stealth to photographing people unawares, and while I am generally not the cloak and dagger sort I am thoroughly delighted with the anonymity of the 70-300mm lens. But this time, there was no hiding. So I asked her if I could. I am pretty sure she didn't understand me. And though she didn't smile. She also didn't say no. And she didn't turn away. And that was assent enough for me. Enjoy the people of China Town.

Where I left my heart

2010-06-16T10:01:00.001-04:00

In San Francisco, of course!
Though San Fran was one of my first stops, it's one of my last to edit due to the sheer number of images I took in the one day I played tourist. This first of three posts features highlights of the city, courtesy of the view from the doubledecker tour bus where I literally got the most horrible sunburn I believe I've ever had. Luckily that's faded, though the memories of the day have not. Still to come - iconic images of Streetcars and Bridges and China Town.