tricks or treats

from the archives: a five year-old ezra, an eight year-old ava and two old school (moderately creepy) halloween masks.

(happy halloween, y'all)

calling all color lovers

heeeeey how about poppytalk's fall color week? are you playing along? because I am. as it turns out, I am both physically and mentally unable to resist color week.

monday//golden
tuesday//red
wednesday//brown
thursday//grey
friday//orange

it's all happening over on the instagrams. it's all happening.

list forty-six: these are things

obsessed with, as of late:

1. honey crisp apples
2. thrift store lamps
3. nineties hip hop
4. things that are yellow
5. things that are shiny, happy
6. the reading of the diary of anne frank with ava
7. the loading of the old yashica
8. the promise of yurt camping
9. ezra's teeny tiny drawings
10. my mother's beautiful quilts
11. raw honey in my oatmeal
12. coconut oil on my body
13. tom-tom club records on repeat
14. jenny's sparkling new space
15. tracy's rad friday lists
16. a pair of lovely earrings
17. a lovely fall bag
18. a ridiculously perfect pencil
19. the work of this director
20. you know what? this one too
21. rolls of vintage wallpaper
22. maps of the paris metro
23. old alfred hitchcock movies
24. shiny new projects
25. the color of the leaves
26. and candy corn
27. ALL OF THE CANDY CORN

how about you?

paris in polaroids, part three

(places like this actually exist?) (because, really)


(I MEAN, REALLY)


(I could not fit this in my suitcase) (also, it was not mine)


(I wanted all the stripey shirts, all of them) (I left with none)


(ava wanted all the flower-shaped gelato, all of it) (she managed two cones)


(oh gosh, the doors, all the pretty doors)


(plus these guys, the ones I chased after) (because, of course)


(and montmartre, just as I imagined it'd be)


(plus macarons, my very first macarons)


(last but not least, the one responsible for this extraordinary adventure, sweet irene) (finally, a polaroid portrait of a fellow instant photographer who has so profoundly inspired me)

part three of the paris polaroids, number 43 off the list. a few of my very favorites and the last of the last. though there are still rolls of film to be developed, folders full of photographs to share. four months later and I am still processing, still not believing it actually happened. I take my time with these things, I always take my time.

(fyi, all paris polaroids shot with glorious impossible project PX680 film)

this one's for you, kathreen

I've been going through stacks of quilts this week. stacks of my mom's beloved quilts. I've been marveling at pattern and color. at meticulous hand-stitching and quirky construction, at worn parts, lived-in and well-loved parts. I know now why she loved them so much, could never ever seem to pass a good one up. or let one go. I always knew. I mean, I thought I knew but after spending hours going through them this week, folding and unfolding, carefully examining each one, I really and truly (fully and completely) know-- in a way I didn't before.

in a serendipitous, completely coincidental turn of events (and just before my trip home to illinois), I received this in the mail:

I'm not going to pretend I know anything about quilt-making here. I do not. which is why I hesitated when I was approached to write a little bit about kathreen's new book, to participate in a  legacy tour of sorts honoring her final work. I don't know anything about quilts and I don't really do things like reviews here in this space. but here's what I know: I love quilts. I love what they represent. I love the idea that they even exist, that the people who make them, who pour so much love into them exist. here's what else I know: I loved kathreen. she inspired me. and I know she inspired a lot of you out there too, so this is not so much a book review as it is a love letter-- to the late, great kathreen ricketson, a small thank you on behalf of all those she inspired. because what we're talking about here is inspiration, quilt-related or not.

I first met kathreen in those early, early blogger days, back when none of us really knew what we were doing. just stumbling along, sharing words, work, bits and parts of our day, never really sure who was reading, if anyone was reading. (and, in some cases, not even really caring if anyone was reading). it wasn't long before a like-minded community began to form-- artists, crafters, writers, photographers, mothers. we were connecting in small but profound ways (often daily) and we were from all over the world. I first met kathreen when I was busy shooting photographs of pretty much everything out there but myself. and then self portrait tuesday happened, which eventually morphed into the self portrait challenge. every week, a different self portrait and kathreen was behind it. selfies before people even knew what selfies were. selfies before the word became an internet punchline. it was kathreen who challenged us each week, encouraged us. what started as a small collection of participants grew into something exponentially larger, something that exceeded all expectations. because that's the thing about the internet-- you never really know what happens when you put stuff out there. where it will go, what it will do, how it might (or might not) be received. you never know. if you would've told me I'd meet some of my best internet (turned in-real-life) friends through the self portrait group, I would not have believed you. furthermore, if you'd told me just how much it'd crack open the way I view photography, I would have laughed. but there it is. and I have no one but kathreen to thank.

we kept in touch over the years. email, twitter, facebook, instagram, blogs, the usual. I could always count on my sweet australian friend for a kind word. I always hoped we'd meet one day, never dreamt we wouldn't get the chance. when the news spread of her passing, I was shocked, completely heartbroken. I couldn't fathom it, I just couldn't. I felt a longing for that early group of bloggers, that raw, special time and I wondered if I'd ever really told kathreen just how much she'd inspired me, if I'd ever really taken the time.

now is my time.

dear kathreen, you inspired me. endlessly.

thumbing through your book, one thing is clear: your wildly creative spirit practically jumps off every page. your heart and soul, your love for what you do just spills out all over the place and you will only continue to inspire those who come in contact with your work. I hope you know that, friend. wherever you are.

here's to you, kathreen. quilt-maker, photograph-taker, lover of life. mother, artist, crafter extraordinaire. here's to the book you always dreamt of writing. here's to me holding it in my hands and honoring you. here's to you, lovely lovely you.

(kathreen's legacy tour continues, please follow along here)

number 56

number 56 off the list: ride the santa cruz sky candy. which I did back in july and was terrified pretty much every single second I was up there.

(but I'm still glad I did it)