Yesterday I was out and about running many, many errands.

I came home exhausted (mentally and physically) and aching beyond belief (due to arthritis ... but that is a whole different story).

I laid down with the TV on and then realized that the remote control was across the room. There was no way I was going to get up and get the damned thing so I reconciled myself to watching whatever was on TV at the time.

A program called "Starting Over" was on the local NBC affiliate. I had never watched the show but it was pretty easy to catch on to the concept of the program: women live in a house and work out some "issues" with the assistance of social workers, therapists, life coaches, etc. They "graduate" when they have resolved the issue that originally brought them to the house.

At one point in the program, this woman (I was not sure what her background is: life coach, therapist, etc.) had the group of women settle into a conversation about aging and how the affects of aging are perceived by some women.

I was fascinated listening to women of various ages discuss their perceptions of aging and the changes time makes on their bodies, intellect, and yes, their soul.

It got me to thinking about my own aging.

In my mind, I am still a young woman who has boundless energy, the beauty of a 20-year-old who can still turn men heads, and the ability to do anything I attempt.

The reality is that my energy has been zapped by years of pain and illness and stress. The beautiful young woman has turned into a mature woman that sexy young men call "Ma'am" and treat with far too much respect!   ;-p

I still can "do" anything I attempt but I now pick and choose my challenges with a great deal of caution and sadly, the realism that these ol' bones just ain't as spry as they used to be.

Do the physical affects of aging regarding my appearance cause me concern? Not really. I have gray in my blonde hair. My skin is not that firm young flesh I once enjoyed and of course, gravity has crept into my life and reveals itself in my most feminine of body parts.

Would I consider plastic surgery? I doubt it. I actually agree with the woman on "Starting Over" who said that aging marks accomplishment and I am proud of the woman I am becoming - - the woman of my heart and soul. I know that I am more than high breasts, long shiny golden hair, and flawless skin.

If they could perform surgery that would give back youthful energy, a sense of wonder that is not tainted by skepticism, and take away the physical pain associated with time and illness ...

I would be the first in line at that miracle medical center ... with my hospital gown blowin' in the breeze revealing a not so perfect butt!

[03:15PM MST] [Permalink]


Have you ever smelled something or perhaps felt a texture, or even a breeze against your skin ... that took you back via your memory to a very distinct and specific moment in your life?

It is raining in Phoenix. It has been raining much more than normal this winter. I love rain. I. Love. Rain.

Today, while putting groceries in the trunk of my car ... the drizzle fell cold against my cheek and the stiff breeze blew wisps of my hair into my eyes. The sky is dark with clouds heavy with Sea of Cortez water.

Standing there in the market parking lot I was immediately transported back to a time in the early-80's.

The place: Long Beach, CA. The adventure: roaming the decks of the permanently docked RMS Queen Mary.

Although today there was no salty smell of the Pacific to tickle my olfactory, I was there ... completely. I even recalled what I was wearing.

It was drizzling a cold rain and the wind was blowing. The sky was dark and foreboding.

I was in my own small Heaven.

My 35mm Canon FTP was ever ready and I shot images of reflections of smoke stacks in water, seagulls in water, lifeboats in water ... and raindrops in water.

One never knows when a photo will become special ... you just shoot and hope you have captured the essence of the moment.

I was fortunate because that day I captured an image that eventually won a small stipend allowing me to continue with my photography.

So long ago.

I have no idea where I have put the prints, the negatives or proof sheets for those photos shot in the rain on the RMS Queen Mary.

However, the camera that is my mind ... with its unique ability to bring back the scent of the water, the coolness of the breeze against my skin, the snapshot of the dark clouds blown by Pacific winds ... remains intact and precise. Details too perfect for even a loupe to detect.

[11:15AM MST] [Permalink]

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