<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498</id><updated>2012-01-31T17:12:03.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In pieces</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>381</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3001481369904328515</id><published>2012-01-31T16:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T16:41:54.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>I can’t follow you into &lt;br /&gt;that hole,&lt;br /&gt;not when I just climbed&lt;br /&gt;out,&lt;br /&gt;not when I know what&lt;br /&gt;dark shadows lurk&lt;br /&gt;there,&lt;br /&gt;lulling you with their&lt;br /&gt;lullabies, &lt;br /&gt;promising you comfort&lt;br /&gt;in the still cold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won’t come with you&lt;br /&gt;to that place,&lt;br /&gt;though I know you&lt;br /&gt;will go no&lt;br /&gt;matter what any&lt;br /&gt;of us say,&lt;br /&gt;I can’t watch you &lt;br /&gt;venture into the empty,&lt;br /&gt;black unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve seen what’s inside,&lt;br /&gt;I’ve crawled as far as&lt;br /&gt;one can go,&lt;br /&gt;those traces of dirt&lt;br /&gt;you can’t ever &lt;br /&gt;clean from under your nails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And though we have&lt;br /&gt;different stories,&lt;br /&gt;our endings are both&lt;br /&gt;the same,&lt;br /&gt;but I’ve just come&lt;br /&gt;around now to the &lt;br /&gt;beginning&lt;br /&gt;and I won’t dig&lt;br /&gt;my way back again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned&lt;br /&gt;there is no other side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3001481369904328515?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3001481369904328515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/untitled_31.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3001481369904328515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3001481369904328515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/untitled_31.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-6419249253453241322</id><published>2012-01-30T16:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T16:34:14.662-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hard Things</title><content type='html'>It’s been a wonderful year. But it’s also been a difficult one – for myself, my family and friends. Death of loved ones, friendships tested, career paths to rethink, love affairs left as unanswered question marks, marriages crumbling unexpected, new responsibilities that ask us to put others first when we already feel too stretched. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve sunk and resurfaced, hidden away and slowly come back. We’ve gotten through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one’s for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;30 of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Recognize the need for change in your life and actually implement it.&lt;br /&gt;2. Admit that you were wrong.&lt;br /&gt;3. Let yourself grieve.&lt;br /&gt;4. Watch someone you love choose someone else. &lt;br /&gt;5. Walk away from someone you love who, for whatever reason, can’t (or won’t) be what you need. &lt;br /&gt;6. Forgive a friend or partner for hurting you.&lt;br /&gt;7. Wage a personal battle with your mortality. &lt;br /&gt;8. Hurt someone else because it’s what’s best for you.&lt;br /&gt;9. Let go. &lt;br /&gt;10. Acknowledge that you might be unhappy because of something you did or didn’t do.&lt;br /&gt;11. Get up and move forward when you hurt so much that you can’t imagine getting through the day.&lt;br /&gt;12. The right thing when every fibre of your being, every piece of your heart, says not to.&lt;br /&gt;13. Let someone in, trust, without asking them to get through walls, brick, duct tape or barbed wire fences first. &lt;br /&gt;14. Not compare yourself to others. &lt;br /&gt;15. Give a second chance. &lt;br /&gt;16. Let a relationship or friendship grow on its own time, don’t push. &lt;br /&gt;17. Be rejected – at work, in your personal life, maybe even by your own children. &lt;br /&gt;18. Forgive yourself for things you did or didn’t do, for having fear or a lack of courage. &lt;br /&gt;19. Accept evidence that proves someone you love isn’t who you thought they were.&lt;br /&gt;20. Learn that words mean nothing if they are not backed by action.&lt;br /&gt;21. Balance mentoring someone with letting them carve out their own trail.&lt;br /&gt;22. Manage feelings of inadequacy. &lt;br /&gt;23. Be around others who you don’t understand, can’t sympathize with, don’t like.&lt;br /&gt;24. Accept that you can’t make someone’s mind up for them – they, alone, choose.&lt;br /&gt;25. Watch something unfold before you that you can’t stop, can’t do anything about, that makes you feel help(and hope)less. &lt;br /&gt;26. Let go of the idea of “someday” and live for today.&lt;br /&gt;27. Admit that what you thought you wanted, isn’t what you want or what’s best for you.&lt;br /&gt;28. Stop being what someone else thinks you should be.&lt;br /&gt;29. Accept that sometimes you won’t get the answers or reasons you’re looking for. &lt;br /&gt;30. Take a major risk. We talk about them all of the time, about how they’re worth it. But when’s the last time you closed your eyes and jumped?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-6419249253453241322?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/6419249253453241322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/hard-things.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6419249253453241322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6419249253453241322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/hard-things.html' title='Hard Things'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2255259041944881616</id><published>2012-01-29T19:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-29T19:18:54.661-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Messy Kitchen</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sink:&lt;/b&gt; suds and things to let go oftwirling down the drain, slow circles that ask me not to touch what was&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cloth:&lt;/b&gt; to wipe away, a spotless surfacenow waiting, none of the crumbs you left to look at anymore&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Garbage:&lt;/b&gt; piled six years too high, Inever wanted leftovers, I just wanted you (you keep closing and opening thelid)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 327.0pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Recycling:&lt;/b&gt; parts to letsomeone else make something new with, I put in what’s strength; only the goodpieces, the ones I want to carry with me&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 327.0pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cupboard:&lt;/b&gt; full of another life,secrets to keep behind closed doors, my heart eager to push out and open, watch them spillacross the floor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 327.0pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mop: &lt;/b&gt;the last thing to do,slow waltz around the room, future promising to shine brightly if I let be what’sbeen, let what is have the chance before I let it ruin. &amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2255259041944881616?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2255259041944881616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/messy-kitchen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2255259041944881616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2255259041944881616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/messy-kitchen.html' title='Messy Kitchen'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2944946638590790254</id><published>2012-01-26T12:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T12:47:38.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Ways to Improve Your Relationship</title><content type='html'>So you’re in love, it’s awesome. And Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. You’re wondering what to get your partner. Forget wasting your time on flowers that will wilt and chocolate that won’t survive more than a couple of hours. I’ve got 20 gifts you can give them that will last all year; and they won’t cost you a thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;Show gratitude.&lt;/strong&gt; It’s easy to say, “Thank you”, but show your partner you mean it with more than words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;Stop living by everyone else’s timeline.&lt;/strong&gt; Move your relationship forward on your time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;Ditch your expectations.&lt;/strong&gt; At the very least, learn to manage them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;Say, “I love you” often.&lt;/strong&gt; Say it from the heart – look them in the eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;strong&gt;Listen.&lt;/strong&gt; Be there with your two ears and a warm hug. It can make all of the difference. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;strong&gt;Make time each day.&lt;/strong&gt; Connect over more than just a shared meal and routine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;strong&gt;Apologize&lt;/strong&gt; when you make a mistake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;strong&gt;Talk it out. &lt;/strong&gt;Don’t bottle things up or build a wall around you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;strong&gt;Avoid making assumptions&lt;/strong&gt; – about anything. Ask. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;strong&gt;Don’t be someone you’re not.&lt;/strong&gt; Be you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. &lt;strong&gt;Don’t try to change your partner.&lt;/strong&gt; Accept them, support them, recognize that they, and you, are constantly stretching and growing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. &lt;strong&gt;Let go of the little things.&lt;/strong&gt; Is being irritated about something trivial or mundane worth losing your relationship over? If you’re so focused on the little things you have less time to enjoy what matters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. &lt;strong&gt;Make sure you’re on the same page.&lt;/strong&gt; Do you want the same things? The heartache will be worse later if you pretend (or assume) that you do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. &lt;strong&gt;Recognize what’s important to your partner.&lt;/strong&gt; Support their hobbies and passions, even if they don’t interest you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. &lt;strong&gt;Laugh often together.&lt;/strong&gt; Balance being serious with being silly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. &lt;strong&gt;Spend time apart.&lt;/strong&gt; Don’t be consumed by the other person. Don’t abandon yourself or others. The person you are with should be an excellent complement to your life – not your entire life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. &lt;strong&gt;Recommit.&lt;/strong&gt; To making things work, to giving them your whole heart, to living up to the promises you once made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. &lt;strong&gt;Don’t be afraid to ask for support. &lt;/strong&gt;The best thing about having a partner is having someone in your court, always. Lean on them when you need to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. &lt;strong&gt;Never stop dating.&lt;/strong&gt; Giggle, hold hands. Make out in your car. Play footsies under the table. Feel those butterflies (or elephants, as I like to call them). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. &lt;strong&gt;Dance in the bedroom.&lt;/strong&gt; Spin around. Turn off the lights. The rest…I’ll leave up to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2944946638590790254?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2944946638590790254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/20-ways-to-improve-your-relationship.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2944946638590790254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2944946638590790254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/20-ways-to-improve-your-relationship.html' title='20 Ways to Improve Your Relationship'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2665503084501811647</id><published>2012-01-21T18:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T13:21:44.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting for You…</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dear Baby Poeta,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;20 reasons why you should be excited to come into this world:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Family:&lt;/b&gt; so many beautiful, gracious, big-hearted people anxious to snuggle with you, listen to you, help you chase your future, guide you, cherish you, walk with you on whatever path it is that you choose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Love:&lt;/b&gt; fall into it, stumble upon it, sink in it, be surprised by it, be changed by it, be challenged by it, feel such joy, it’s going to turn you inside out, hit you when you least expect it, ask you to show yourself without reservation or fear, take you hostage, grant you release.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Friendship:&lt;/b&gt; you’ll meet people who will inspire you, support you, accept you as you are, spend hours with them sharing secrets, talking, playing, connecting over great meals, some there for reasons, others just years or seasons, a few you will carry with you wherever you go, regardless of time and circumstance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Learning:&lt;/b&gt; so much to teach and be taught, so many things to deconstruct and dare, endless books and risks to take, discussions that will shape you, help you understand, stretch you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Laughter: &lt;/b&gt;will hurt your stomach, cure your heartaches, brim your lids with tears, fill you with hope, turn a bad day into one that’s extraordinary, bring your life gorgeous sound and colour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Creativity: &lt;/b&gt;you’ll get to build, foster, imagine, invent, design, stitch together, innovate, call yours, get dirty, dig deep, delve into.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dreams:&lt;/b&gt; asleep or awake…they’re delicious, you`ll rock in reverie, blow wishes with last breath onto dandelion and watch glide away into sky, they`ll hurt to wake from, but you`ll long, always, for them (and should follow them).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Touch: &lt;/b&gt;will cause you to ache, let your guard down and feel safe, layers to peel back and taste, traces across skin that might break you, furious, hurried, appreciative, will leave you hungry, hollow, happy, loud or in secret.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Music:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;will flow through you, help you set the stage for things to remember, call out to you, speak for you when you can’t, reassure you with chord and note that everything will be okay when it`s anything but.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Travel:&lt;/b&gt; so many things to see, experience, snap photographs of, places you’ll touch and be touched by, mark and carry with you, rivers to swim, mountains to explore, waves to hurdle and dance in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Late nights: &lt;/b&gt;when good things happen, when the world is quiet, when you get to pause, savour, soak up, kiss vulnerably, close your eyes and just be, slide beside, let slide into, hold gently in your arms, let go of while standing in steam-filled shower.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Food: &lt;/b&gt;so much to taste, let linger on your tongue, slide down your throat, warm your belly, awaken, stir within you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Stories:&lt;/b&gt; threads that will weave with your own, tales of adventure, moments that will send shivers up your spine, turn upside-down all you once thought, accounts that will glue you to others, help you see what you were blind to before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Water: &lt;/b&gt;you’ll slip into it, guzzle it, get drenched by it, float gloriously in it, if you’re lucky…twirl around with someone in it, it will sustain you, cleanse you, quench your thirst, make music and memory on your roof.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Words:&lt;/b&gt; use them carefully, they’ll uplift and empower, comfort and express, they’ll change your mind, you’ll use them to change others, paired with action…they’ll be your greatest asset, your most powerful tool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Art:&lt;/b&gt; patterns and shapes that will give you pause, make you take notice, want to take up, leave you in awe, draw out unexpected feelings and wants, let you see what’s hidden in the shadows, sculpt out truths that you`ll never quite feel comfortable enough to let be revealed on their own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Animals: &lt;/b&gt;fierce, food, friends, things to fear, to cuddle (Atti!), play with, hunt, watch and wonder at, crawling and calling out, soaring across the sky, fluttering or sneaking up ever soft behind you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fire:&lt;/b&gt; glorious marshmallows to be had, songs to be sung, arms to let wrap tightly around, crackles and snaps, blankets and blessings to bury into.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Wind:&lt;/b&gt; will tickle your back, blow goosebumps onto your arms, make your hair slow dance or waltz, bring forward new seasons, take away old, croon landscapes that cry an end or a beginning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Possibilities:&lt;/b&gt; mysteries to peer into and unravel, love affairs to disentangle and let unfold, foot trails to fashion and follow, forts to create and hide in, weekends to bask in and fill.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Can’t wait to meet you little one. Safe journey…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2665503084501811647?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2665503084501811647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/waiting-for-you.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2665503084501811647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2665503084501811647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/waiting-for-you.html' title='Waiting for You…'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2143513998467622038</id><published>2012-01-14T12:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T12:46:13.678-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;I love youlike the waves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;ache forshore:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;reaching,longing, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;retreatingto give you space&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;I love youlike a fork&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;anticipatesa meal:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;eager,anxious,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;pleased tooffer a taste&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;I love youlike a ghost&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;refusing toleave:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;notbelonging, but &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;haunting,unwilling to fade&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;I love youlike a bud&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;too earlyfor spring:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;helplessagainst the &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;coming snowyet&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;growing,believing anyways.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2143513998467622038?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2143513998467622038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/untitled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2143513998467622038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2143513998467622038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-1718834462183432019</id><published>2012-01-10T12:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T12:51:24.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Reasons Why You Should Say, “I Love You”</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;You have more to lose if you don’t say it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;There is the wonderful, joyous, absolutelydelicious possibility that they love you in return.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;You might not have another opportunity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;While you waste time worrying about what they’llsay back or what the consequences will be, someone else might beat you to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;It’s not as complicated as you think. Impossiblesituations can be possible when two people who love each other work together tofigure it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;They might not know. And knowing could changeeverything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;You forget to. In the everyday, sometimes youforget to be grateful for what’s in front of you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;Even if they don’t reciprocate, at least you’llknow you tried. At least you can move forward with no regrets instead oflooking back later with longing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;You’re giving someone the greatest compliment:letting them know that they’re awesome!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;You can't give me 10 good reasons not to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-1718834462183432019?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/1718834462183432019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/10-reasons-why-you-should-say-i-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1718834462183432019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1718834462183432019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/10-reasons-why-you-should-say-i-love.html' title='10 Reasons Why You Should Say, “I Love You”'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2143469801469723730</id><published>2012-01-08T15:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T15:35:02.978-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dunlop: Love Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="WordSection1"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;Downtown seems a long stretch,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;memories with no regrets,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;nothing left on the street but&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;her pride and his reasons&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;Her heart wants to know,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;but her head says, “Go home”,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;nothing’s changed since the last&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;time but the seasons&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;Downtown seems a long stretch, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;figuring things out with no catch, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;meant she never asked &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;and he never stayed&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;Her heart wants to know,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;but her keys will take her home,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;the only lines she’ll carry with&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;her are the ones the band played. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;&lt;br clear="all" style="mso-break-type: section-break; page-break-before: always;" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2143469801469723730?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2143469801469723730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/dunlop-love-song.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2143469801469723730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2143469801469723730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/dunlop-love-song.html' title='Dunlop: Love Song'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4930881032230238422</id><published>2012-01-03T22:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T13:00:31.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year Challenge</title><content type='html'>22 things I challenge you to do this year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;b&gt;Be honest with yourself. &lt;/b&gt;Ask those hard questions (like "Am I happy?") and make whatever changes are necessary to be able to live, authentically, with your answers.&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;b&gt; Spend more time doing what you love.&lt;/b&gt; Don't have the time? Make it. It's important.&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;b&gt;Spend more time with people you love. &lt;/b&gt;Let go of those who hurt you or make you unhappy. Surround yourself with those who inspire you, support you and accept you as you are - not as they want you to be.&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;b&gt;Let go of something that you've been clinging to&lt;/b&gt; - whatever it is. Live in the now, not in the past. Recognize that people are responsible for their own choices, even if what they choose isn't you. Do something about it, or let it be.&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;b&gt;Forgive yourself.&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Let yourself off the hook - but carry those lessons with you.&lt;br /&gt;6.&lt;b&gt; Get rid of stuff.&lt;/b&gt; De-clutter, re-organize, give away, throw out, condense. You'll realize that what you are getting rid of isn't just things.&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;b&gt;Stop trying to control or make sense of everything.&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Sometimes things just are what they are, were what they were and the only one you're hurting by over-analyzing them or trying to make them fit into your idea of how life should be, is you.&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;b&gt;Do one thing entirely out of character.&lt;/b&gt; Something you'd never do or were afraid to do because you thought you might get hurt or you thought it might hurt others.&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;b&gt;Let someone in. &lt;/b&gt;And I mean really in. Risk it all, bare it all, be super vulnerable. Don't hide parts of yourself - physical, emotional or otherwise. Let them see it, let them see you. Open up in ways you never have before.&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;b&gt;Take care of you. &lt;/b&gt;Eat well, sleep well, exercise your body, mind and heart. Push toward those goals, but be flexible when life happens or things change.&lt;br /&gt;11. &lt;b&gt;Believe.&lt;/b&gt; In second chances, in forgiveness, in possibilities, in love.&lt;br /&gt;12. &lt;b&gt;Kiss like you mean it every single time.&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Let someone know, without words, just how much you love and want them.&lt;br /&gt;13. &lt;b&gt;Look at the world from a different angle.&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Literally. Get down on the floor, stand up on a stool...get a view you wouldn't otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;14. &lt;b&gt;Listen. &lt;/b&gt;You might be excited to share a story or want to tell someone you are there for them, but without interrupting, without interjecting, first just listen.&lt;br /&gt;15. &lt;b&gt;Say "Thank you" more often.&lt;/b&gt; Two simple words but they can be quite powerful.&lt;br /&gt;16. &lt;b&gt;Do what you say, live what you say. &lt;/b&gt;Words can mean nothing, or everything. It's up to you.&lt;br /&gt;17. &lt;b&gt;Be proud of yourself. &lt;/b&gt;Quit berating yourself for the things you did or didn't do. Have or haven't done. Recognize and celebrate your own achievements.&lt;br /&gt;18. &lt;b&gt;Give a little more. &lt;/b&gt;Stretch yourself just a little bit further.&lt;br /&gt;19. &lt;b&gt;Quit making excuses.&lt;/b&gt; Answer with a firm "Yes" or "No". Use "Maybe"s or "I'll think about it" only if you mean it. Sometimes you're afraid of hurting someone by responding to a question you already know the answer to, but you'll hurt them worse later if you give hope where hope is not.&lt;br /&gt;20. &lt;b&gt;Stop thinking about &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;things you'd do in another life. &lt;/b&gt;Live this one or do them now.&lt;br /&gt;21. &lt;b&gt;Recognize that difficult things are often those worth having.&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;No one said things would be easy. Appreciate, treasure, cherish... along the way and when you get there.&lt;br /&gt;22. &lt;b&gt;Ask, don't assume.&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Assumptions make us miss out on things, misinterpret, misunderstand. Take a deep breath and just ask, without hesitation. Wouldn't you rather know?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4930881032230238422?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4930881032230238422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/new-year-challenge.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4930881032230238422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4930881032230238422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/new-year-challenge.html' title='New Year Challenge'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3229930763245562987</id><published>2012-01-03T07:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T12:59:15.417-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Line to the One You Love...</title><content type='html'>Working on a new blog project for Valentine's Day (Yes! It's not too far around the corner...) and I need your help!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D9dh07OHgws/Tv4fbhl5x7I/AAAAAAAACvw/JGjHi6wbuIg/s1600/301_B%2526w_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D9dh07OHgws/Tv4fbhl5x7I/AAAAAAAACvw/JGjHi6wbuIg/s320/301_B%2526w_4.jpg" width="222" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you could say &lt;i&gt;one&lt;/i&gt; thing to the person you love, what would it be? (Don't hold back! How much do they mean to you? What is your first memory of them? Favourite memory of them? Something you wish for them? Something you regret? Do they know that you love them? What strikes you most about them? ...submit anything that comes to mind and that comes from your heart.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not in a romantic relationship? In retrospect, what would you have said to your last love, if given the opportunity? Never been in love? Oh boy, you've got a new new year's resolution - go find! Be open.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Send me your one-liners from now until Feb. 1.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can submit your one-liners two ways:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Post a comment below (as yourself or anonymous)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) E-mail your one-liner - or lines! - to inspire@writephotographer.ca (again, as yourself or anonymous)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feel free to share this with family, friends, colleagues...hoping to get as many&amp;nbsp;as I can!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks, as always, for your support of this blog.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3229930763245562987?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3229930763245562987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-line-to-one-you-love.html#comment-form' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3229930763245562987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3229930763245562987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-line-to-one-you-love.html' title='One Line to the One You Love...'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D9dh07OHgws/Tv4fbhl5x7I/AAAAAAAACvw/JGjHi6wbuIg/s72-c/301_B%2526w_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3918843108210454050</id><published>2012-01-03T06:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T13:26:22.631-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Wish for You</title><content type='html'>Dancing,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;spinning and&lt;br /&gt;spinning until you&lt;br /&gt;fall onto the&lt;br /&gt;grass,&lt;br /&gt;joyful,&lt;br /&gt;heart leaping from&lt;br /&gt;chest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughter,&lt;br /&gt;filling the room,&lt;br /&gt;stretching your&lt;br /&gt;smile,&lt;br /&gt;kidnapping your&lt;br /&gt;breath,&lt;br /&gt;holding hostage&lt;br /&gt;everything that&lt;br /&gt;hurts or needs healed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good health,&lt;br /&gt;time to taste and&lt;br /&gt;savour, relax&lt;br /&gt;and let go of&lt;br /&gt;things that&lt;br /&gt;won’t mean&lt;br /&gt;anything, won’t define&lt;br /&gt;you at the&lt;br /&gt;end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship, calm&lt;br /&gt;and sincere,&lt;br /&gt;able to hold you&lt;br /&gt;up or push&lt;br /&gt;you forward,&lt;br /&gt;clasp your secrets&lt;br /&gt;in one hand and&lt;br /&gt;your trust&lt;br /&gt;in another,&lt;br /&gt;never disappoint you&lt;br /&gt;with jealousy&lt;br /&gt;or anger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freedom, to&lt;br /&gt;choose, to chase,&lt;br /&gt;to make right or&lt;br /&gt;walk away, to&lt;br /&gt;do the thing that&lt;br /&gt;makes you feel most&lt;br /&gt;alive, blows&lt;br /&gt;goosebumps on your&lt;br /&gt;skin, trumpets&lt;br /&gt;blissfully&lt;br /&gt;like&lt;br /&gt;elephants in your&lt;br /&gt;belly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But above all this…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you love,&lt;br /&gt;peaceful and&lt;br /&gt;pure, kind and&lt;br /&gt;always sure,&lt;br /&gt;open with its arms,&lt;br /&gt;able to forgive,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;willing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;* for my family, friends, colleagues and other loved ones this holiday...things I wish for you in the new year. xo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3918843108210454050?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3918843108210454050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-wish-for-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3918843108210454050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3918843108210454050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-wish-for-you.html' title='I Wish for You'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-7564015688614947475</id><published>2012-01-01T18:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T18:44:13.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Winter in Her</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Thesesecrets,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;slippery,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;truthstangled&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;around what’s&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;remembered,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;embroidered&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;embellishments&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;sewn intothe holes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;no one elsecould&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;see&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;(You knew&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;they werethere,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;you knew &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;they werethere)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;She wearsyou &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;across&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;her heart, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;you dangle &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;unharnessed&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;from memory,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;sparkle like&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;a diamond&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;ring on afinger,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;on a loveyou&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;couldn’t letbe,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;restingstill inside&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;her, asstill as&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;a sleepingbear – &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;never forher spring,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;never forher spring.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-7564015688614947475?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/7564015688614947475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/winter-in-her.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7564015688614947475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7564015688614947475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2012/01/winter-in-her.html' title='The Winter in Her'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-8597843929108704328</id><published>2011-12-30T15:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T15:07:22.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Figuring Out Your Hilfiger’s</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;What Ishould have said&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;is that Irather like you,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;though why, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;I am not&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;sure:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;you long toput a&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;“their”where there&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;should be a“they’re”,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;anexclamation point&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;when it isobvious&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;you mean to,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;should, use&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;a period, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;and I wantto choke&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;you (or isit throttle?)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;when I tripover the&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;jeans you’vetossed so &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;carelessbeside the bed,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;as thoughyou were in a&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;hurry tojump into sleep,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;as thoughyou don’t know&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;how to slinkinto sheets, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;slide out ofthose Tommies&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;as carefullyas you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;slide intome. &amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-8597843929108704328?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/8597843929108704328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/figuring-out-your-hilfigers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8597843929108704328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8597843929108704328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/figuring-out-your-hilfigers.html' title='Figuring Out Your Hilfiger’s'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-250611660205124940</id><published>2011-12-30T15:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T15:05:46.069-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things You Don't Remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="WordSection1"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -35.45pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 35.45pt;"&gt;First smile,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="WordSection2"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;stutteredwords,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;looks solong,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 185.95pt;"&gt;longing,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;they hurt&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Droppedcoat,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;hand gentleon&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;arm,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;questions&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;(or empty &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;glasses?)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;disarmed&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Bottle ofred &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;paired with &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;pleading eyes,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;menu unopened&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;under theguise&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;of doingwhat’s right&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Dozens ofsteps,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;not moving&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;ahead,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;finally,tossed sheets&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;to speak theunsaid&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;‘figuringthings out’&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;meant &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;your forgetting&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;A thousandways&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;to (mis)readthe text,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;nothing to&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;deconstruct&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;but the mess&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;you’ve left &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;there’s atab unpaid &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;and a line Iwant let out of&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Last reach,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;soft kiss at&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;bend of thigh,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;circles, (always&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;circling)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;you werenever aware&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;of the time&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;..what ittook &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;to come backfrom &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;where I wentwhen you &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;let us go,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;what ittakes now not &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;to follow&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;those ghosts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-250611660205124940?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/250611660205124940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/things-you-dont-remember.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/250611660205124940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/250611660205124940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/things-you-dont-remember.html' title='Things You Don&apos;t Remember'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-1700822298719070446</id><published>2011-12-26T21:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T21:52:50.957-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wishes</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Before the holidays, I asked a bunch of family, friends and colleagues to send in their wishes to me. Things they’d like to come true. I’ve strung them together…they are lovely.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less children born into &lt;br /&gt;poverty, happy childhoods &lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;world peace,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;loving homes&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;for every stray and&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;abandoned &lt;br /&gt;animal, &lt;br /&gt;no such thing as violence,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;prejudice &lt;br /&gt;or hatred, roofs over&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;everyone’s heads, &lt;br /&gt;fridge and cupboards full&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;of food or &lt;br /&gt;perhaps not having to&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;consume anything &lt;br /&gt;at all &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family that loves, &lt;br /&gt;bodies healthy&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and fit, &lt;br /&gt;relationships healed and &lt;br /&gt;full of respect, &lt;br /&gt;communities thriving on &lt;br /&gt;acceptance,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;understanding, &lt;br /&gt;seeing the individual and not &lt;br /&gt;race, creed, religion,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sexual orientation or gender &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freedom from finances, &lt;br /&gt;the ability to create our &lt;br /&gt;own miracles, &lt;br /&gt;beautiful memories to &lt;br /&gt;sustain us in old age, &lt;br /&gt;gratitude for those&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;who take care of, the&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ability to know certain&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;seemingly &lt;br /&gt;unreachable truths &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleepovers with grandchildren, &lt;br /&gt;1,000 candles lit in the&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;forest at night, midnight walks with&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;loved ones,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;chocolate for breakfast, &lt;br /&gt;huge windows draped in&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;billowing &lt;br /&gt;white linen curtains that&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;open &lt;br /&gt;to the ocean, let music and&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;light in &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flying unicorns and&lt;br /&gt;enough empathy and support &lt;br /&gt;for us to be healthy,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;actualized, &lt;br /&gt;compassionate adults, &lt;br /&gt;the need for little sleep, &lt;br /&gt;the possibility for&lt;br /&gt;reality in dreams, &lt;br /&gt;days filled with the&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;things and &lt;br /&gt;people we love &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness, daring,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;honesty, laughter.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-1700822298719070446?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/1700822298719070446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/wishes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1700822298719070446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1700822298719070446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/wishes.html' title='Wishes'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-6046123143075415365</id><published>2011-12-26T00:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T13:12:29.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'>From the Sidelines</title><content type='html'>Bubbling inside &amp;gt; secret, and not &amp;gt; dark, delicious, bottomless crevice &amp;gt;&amp;nbsp;memories that&amp;nbsp;could create or tear down &amp;gt; place to sink, push into&amp;nbsp;&amp;gt; ghosts lingering through hand and lip &amp;gt; ache to jump in, no pause &amp;gt; more &amp;gt; less &amp;gt; stop &amp;gt; silence &amp;gt; so many reasons not to &amp;gt; inch of body, every inch of another day &amp;gt; further and further away &amp;gt; there, then not &amp;gt; now and then a rope, a string &amp;gt; dangle &amp;gt; I cling, I clung, whether foolish or just in love &amp;gt; I knew you knew you would never do what you wanted &amp;gt; comfortable, simply afraid &amp;gt; worried about 'right' &amp;gt; all that doubt landed you there &amp;gt; two inches away in bed &amp;gt; years behind us or ahead &amp;gt; never the same pace &amp;gt; arms wrapped careless around my waist &amp;gt; wish &amp;gt; senseless &amp;gt; I want to be there &amp;gt; (always!) &amp;gt; nothing to figure out but what's next &amp;gt; perfect like the way you fit where you shouldn't &amp;gt; I wish I, you, we, wouldn't &amp;gt; forget &amp;gt; found &amp;gt; lost &amp;gt; at what cost? &amp;gt; can't buy or busy yourself out of this &amp;gt; won't wait &amp;gt; yes, waiting &amp;gt; scared of and of not &amp;gt; time to go &amp;gt; impossible &amp;gt; forced &amp;gt; faking okay &amp;gt; all I ever wanted to do was crawl beside you &amp;gt; standing in shower, drips of truth &amp;gt; away &amp;gt; away &amp;gt; flight to where everything was simple &amp;gt; return &amp;gt; turn around &amp;gt; turn to &amp;gt; miles to go back &amp;gt; worth it, if we both wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-6046123143075415365?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/6046123143075415365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/from-sidelines.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6046123143075415365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6046123143075415365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/from-sidelines.html' title='From the Sidelines'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4236341400249454025</id><published>2011-12-24T23:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-24T23:19:22.178-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Churches (The Funeral)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Places we go&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;with our separate grief,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sanctuaries we&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;turn to in need,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;searching for hope in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;hallelujahs, absolution&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in psalms, meaning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in death,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;looking for love and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;reasons in scripture&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we don't always&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;understand,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;feeling sometimes as&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;empty as the pews&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that are filled on better&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;days with&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;laughter and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;longing to be part of&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;something bigger&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;than ourselves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The lessons we've heard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;time and again (maybe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;never internalized,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;maybe forgotten,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;maybe&amp;nbsp;lost in the&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;day-to-day,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;maybe purposefully&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;discarded&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or left behind because they&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;couldn't help us justify what&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we wanted, wouldn't allow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;us the right to take&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what was never ours)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;call out to us from casket&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and grave:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Here us," they ask,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and sometimes we listen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They are spaces where we&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;remember,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;walls that beg us to&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;let go,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;passages without shut&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;doors to lock us out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;like the way we do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;each other, until, most times,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it is too late&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Though we rarely enter,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;though we seldom seek,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;they wait with patient, open&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;arms,&lt;br /&gt;sad this is the only&lt;br /&gt;opportunity,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;asking us to forgive ourselves,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;asking us to believe,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;even as we say goodbye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to the one that we love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the one that suddenly,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or perhaps not at all,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;had to leave.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4236341400249454025?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4236341400249454025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/churches-funeral.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4236341400249454025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4236341400249454025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/churches-funeral.html' title='Churches (The Funeral)'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-7590468342773424370</id><published>2011-12-23T23:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T23:25:38.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Story</title><content type='html'>Chair&lt;br /&gt;swivels,&lt;br /&gt;squeaks as she&lt;br /&gt;presses&lt;br /&gt;him&lt;br /&gt;hard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he can`t pull her&lt;br /&gt;in close&lt;br /&gt;enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she can`t tell&lt;br /&gt;him what&lt;br /&gt;she&lt;br /&gt;wants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;more than&lt;br /&gt;she can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with her lips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;buzz of&lt;br /&gt;phone&lt;br /&gt;brings them back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he wants to&lt;br /&gt;say all&lt;br /&gt;the things&lt;br /&gt;she&lt;br /&gt;means&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fifteen minutes&lt;br /&gt;they&amp;nbsp;can`t&lt;br /&gt;get&lt;br /&gt;gone from&lt;br /&gt;mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sighs of&lt;br /&gt;acceptance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last long&lt;br /&gt;lingering&lt;br /&gt;look&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still haunting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things&lt;br /&gt;written&lt;br /&gt;in books&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no longer&lt;br /&gt;guessed at,&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;imagined.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-7590468342773424370?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/7590468342773424370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/love-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7590468342773424370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7590468342773424370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/love-story.html' title='Love Story'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-960348698232261891</id><published>2011-12-21T20:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T20:33:43.438-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Decluttering</title><content type='html'>Somewhere among the&lt;br /&gt;stacks of books,&lt;br /&gt;the piles of unworn&lt;br /&gt;clothes,&lt;br /&gt;the things I was holding&lt;br /&gt;onto for "someday"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In-between the&lt;br /&gt;packing,&amp;nbsp;stuffing,&lt;br /&gt;closing of bins,&lt;br /&gt;opening of garbage bags,&lt;br /&gt;taking and tearing&lt;br /&gt;down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of&lt;br /&gt;folding, squishing,&lt;br /&gt;deciding whether or&lt;br /&gt;not to hold on to,&lt;br /&gt;discard, pass on,&lt;br /&gt;cut up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Underneath all of the&lt;br /&gt;years of collecting,&lt;br /&gt;saving, wondering&lt;br /&gt;building,&lt;br /&gt;burying amidst &lt;i&gt;other&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside of photo albums,&lt;br /&gt;a few saved handwritten&lt;br /&gt;cards,&lt;br /&gt;drawers and dust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, amidst the&lt;br /&gt;filed away, tucked&lt;br /&gt;away, locked away,&lt;br /&gt;stored away, left long&lt;br /&gt;neglected, faded,&lt;br /&gt;forgotten...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that what&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;was boxing up,&lt;br /&gt;saying goodbye to,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;was us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-960348698232261891?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/960348698232261891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/decluttering.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/960348698232261891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/960348698232261891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/decluttering.html' title='Decluttering'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4960753863967900396</id><published>2011-12-20T20:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T12:51:48.947-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chase</title><content type='html'>I am all for chasing your dreams, chasing after the one you love, chasing after that second chance. But there comes a point, too, where you have to cut your losses and stop chasing. Either wait for whatever it is you are chasing to turn around, or watch it go...let it go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've found myself twice, literally, chasing after people I love. Once was in my early 20s when I saw my ex driving down the highway and hit the gas pedal at a ridiculous, reckless speed, in order to catch up to him. (It only occurred to me after I passed my exit that he might be going 140 for reason.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The second time was fairly recent. I chased a truck down the road. Arms loaded with bags, purse weighing me down, high heel shoes about ready to break. I was chasing someone I couldn't have. Someone I needed to let drive away...he'd either see me in his rearview...or he wouldn't.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I giggle when I think of both of these instances. They play out like scenes from a bad rom com, only the end to both love stories was just a little more realistic than what usually occurs on screen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Given the opportunity to go back, even with the benefit of retrospect, I'd probably still chase them. I'm that kind of girl - one who believes (helplessly) in love. But I learned a valuable lesson with each: YES! Chase that someone or something you want...but if you find yourself out of breath and what you want getting further and further away from you, you should stop and ask yourself why you're chasing in the first place.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The best kind of love, I think, is one where two people meet in the middle. You might have to fight separate battles to get there, overcome obstacles (like, maybe, breaking your heel?) but you both head in that same direction, toward each other, wanting the same things.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My words of advice to those of you single?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Be sure that what you're chasing is actually what you want and set yourself at a good pace. That perfectly imperfect person for you will be headed your way too, sharing the same rhythm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4960753863967900396?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4960753863967900396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/chase.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4960753863967900396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4960753863967900396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/chase.html' title='The Chase'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4775869549839059357</id><published>2011-12-17T22:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T22:49:54.498-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>Your memory is only ever&lt;br /&gt;a song away,&lt;br /&gt;someone else's treasure&lt;br /&gt;discovered too late,&lt;br /&gt;I never asked but&lt;br /&gt;knew you wouldn't stay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(All these years, I've gotten used&lt;br /&gt;to watching the back of you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loss threatens unexpected&lt;br /&gt;as lids close, in the shower,&lt;br /&gt;questions search for answers,&lt;br /&gt;still you cower,&lt;br /&gt;only so much waiting left&lt;br /&gt;til the clock reaches the hour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I was never good as second,&lt;br /&gt;or, now, as an afterthought).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4775869549839059357?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4775869549839059357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/untitled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4775869549839059357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4775869549839059357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3741748903139631435</id><published>2011-12-16T12:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T12:49:38.805-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Reasons Why You Should Stop Being So Judge-y</title><content type='html'>1. People's decisions are theirs to make, not yours.&lt;br /&gt;2. You have no idea what goes on behind closed doors.&lt;br /&gt;3. You're only seeing a piece of someone - not all of them. Not necessarily who they are.&lt;br /&gt;4. Some people don't know any different - their worlds growing up weren't like yours.&lt;br /&gt;5. Ignorant doesn't equal stupid.&lt;br /&gt;6. You probably don't know as much as you think you know.&lt;br /&gt;7. It's unattractive and pretentious. &lt;br /&gt;8. If you're too busy judging, you have no time to love someone, get to&amp;nbsp;know someone,&amp;nbsp;or help change something.&lt;br /&gt;9. There are better things to do with your time.&lt;br /&gt;10. You're not perfect. Why expect others to be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3741748903139631435?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3741748903139631435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/10-reasons-why-you-should-stop-being-so.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3741748903139631435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3741748903139631435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/10-reasons-why-you-should-stop-being-so.html' title='10 Reasons Why You Should Stop Being So Judge-y'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-1004563995991652406</id><published>2011-12-15T21:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T21:28:24.909-05:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Signs We're Getting Older</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;...dedicated to my ladies...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sexy = Dads. Yup. Nothing hotter than a father who loves his kid(s) and spends time with them.&lt;br /&gt;2. Squeals of glee erupt over excitement about appliances.&lt;br /&gt;3. We live for Friday nights. No, not so we can go out and paint the town. So that we can curl in with a bottle of wine and some good company.&lt;br /&gt;4. When someone asks if we'll meet them for a mid-week drink at 9 p.m. we think, "Gee, isn't that kinda late?"&lt;br /&gt;5. We find ourselves telling those, "Well, when I was your age..." kinda stories to younger colleagues at work.&lt;br /&gt;6. "Old school" = songs we used to dance to in university.&lt;br /&gt;7. Our backs randomly hurt. For no reason at all.&lt;br /&gt;8. Instead of spending 20 minutes plucking our eyebrows, we spend 20 minutes plucking our greys.&lt;br /&gt;9. We're actually concerned about retirement.&lt;br /&gt;10. Staying up late means passed out at the time we would have been going out when younger.&lt;br /&gt;11. It takes more than a day to recover from a hangover.&lt;br /&gt;12. We spend two minutes instead of two hours on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;13. We'd rather get up early on the weekend to "get in a full day" than sleep in and waste one.&lt;br /&gt;14. Diapers and divorces no longer phase us.&lt;br /&gt;15. We don't buy that $50 shirt because in our minds that $50 that could get us a heck of a lot of groceries (esp. at No Frills).&lt;br /&gt;16. We suddenly understand that less makeup = more beauty.&lt;br /&gt;17. The days become longer while the years get shorter.&lt;br /&gt;18. We have to chop down our resumes instead of fudge them to get to two pages.&lt;br /&gt;19. Purchasing anti-wrinkle cream is as routine for us as getting toothpaste.&lt;br /&gt;20. We suddenly have no filters and say exactly what we think - whether it's wanted or warranted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-1004563995991652406?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/1004563995991652406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/20-signs-were-getting-older.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1004563995991652406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1004563995991652406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/20-signs-were-getting-older.html' title='20 Signs We&apos;re Getting Older'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-5308621023957062460</id><published>2011-12-15T20:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T20:37:09.874-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Had to Share...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ooew7Dzm-8M/TuqgknKZ7OI/AAAAAAAACmM/iHsf9Lue32k/s1600/506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ooew7Dzm-8M/TuqgknKZ7OI/AAAAAAAACmM/iHsf9Lue32k/s400/506.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just love this photo from a shoot on the weekend. Sigh...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-5308621023957062460?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/5308621023957062460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/had-to-share.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5308621023957062460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5308621023957062460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/had-to-share.html' title='Had to Share...'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ooew7Dzm-8M/TuqgknKZ7OI/AAAAAAAACmM/iHsf9Lue32k/s72-c/506.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3951910452079787093</id><published>2011-12-13T19:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T21:13:45.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Disappearing</title><content type='html'>It's easy to leave love,&lt;br /&gt;but not easy to leave everything else,&lt;br /&gt;where love lacks or fails&lt;br /&gt;other things&lt;br /&gt;thrive, every day things,&lt;br /&gt;comfortable things,&lt;br /&gt;kitchen-counter-top-covered-in-&lt;br /&gt;crumbs-things,&lt;br /&gt;shared friends and toothpaste&lt;br /&gt;kind of things,&lt;br /&gt;bills unopened, mortgage to be paid,&lt;br /&gt;365 reasons that make it&lt;br /&gt;hard not to stay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's less to take the silence,&lt;br /&gt;the emptiness,&lt;br /&gt;the unimaginative,&lt;br /&gt;tireless arguments than it is&lt;br /&gt;to digest what it would mean&lt;br /&gt;if the house was no longer&lt;br /&gt;filled with&lt;br /&gt;hectic mornings, rare&lt;br /&gt;hurried heat&lt;br /&gt;somewhere between awake and&lt;br /&gt;asleep, rituals that have become&lt;br /&gt;tradition even&lt;br /&gt;without meaning to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life loosens at the seam,&lt;br /&gt;exposes frayed edges without&lt;br /&gt;hope to be stitched,&lt;br /&gt;but even then you still want&lt;br /&gt;to believe,&lt;br /&gt;even then you still hold tight&lt;br /&gt;that things will brighten and&lt;br /&gt;suddenly be,&lt;br /&gt;fold warm around you&lt;br /&gt;instead of leaving a&lt;br /&gt;shivering, tasteless cold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You long for an answer but&lt;br /&gt;none is offered,&lt;br /&gt;ache for an explanation but&lt;br /&gt;there is none to give,&lt;br /&gt;all that's left is what is true:&lt;br /&gt;stay stuck/stay adrift,&lt;br /&gt;and the thing that will&lt;br /&gt;shift isn't circumstance,&lt;br /&gt;the thing that will change&lt;br /&gt;isn't reality,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it will be you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3951910452079787093?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3951910452079787093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/disappearing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3951910452079787093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3951910452079787093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/disappearing.html' title='Disappearing'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-312446530094081326</id><published>2011-12-11T21:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-11T21:36:33.638-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Ago Friends</title><content type='html'>There, in the doorway, collar pulled up to&lt;br /&gt;protect against the wind, leaning to one side,&lt;br /&gt;he waited&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She drew in a sharp breath, surprised by&lt;br /&gt;the sight of him,&lt;br /&gt;(never having looked at him that way before&lt;br /&gt;...there was no going back)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello," he said, kissing her on the cheek,&lt;br /&gt;eyes shining, lips purple from the cold,&lt;br /&gt;she merely smiled, at a loss for words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They walked, arms linked, to the end of&lt;br /&gt;the block,&lt;br /&gt;he pulled open the door to the bar&lt;br /&gt;and they shifted inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, others were also waiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll meet you at the table," she said,&lt;br /&gt;mumbling&amp;nbsp;some garbage about&lt;br /&gt;having to warm up her hands under&lt;br /&gt;the dryer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulled away then,&lt;br /&gt;a heavy tug pulling regretfully&lt;br /&gt;at both their hearts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-312446530094081326?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/312446530094081326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/long-ago-friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/312446530094081326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/312446530094081326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/long-ago-friends.html' title='Long Ago Friends'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-503679693552016816</id><published>2011-12-10T22:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-10T22:47:28.042-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My 7 Wonders...</title><content type='html'>I have a box of tabletop questions sitting on my desk at work. Whenever he can, my colleague Chris comes to my office, pulls one out and we each answer whatever question is on the card. On Friday, he pulled out `What are your seven wonders of the world?`&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I couldn`t answer him then, but after spending a good chunk of my weekend on the couch with a wicked migraine and time to think, I will try to answer them now. They are answers that might change throughout life but that are relevant to me at this time. Thought I`d share them with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Top of Cascade high peak mountain in the Adirondacks: it was there I witnessed a breast cancer survivor knock something off her bucket list, there I let go of a shadow that had been clouding my heart for years, there I stood and was overwhelmed by how beautiful and short our lives really are. I remember wishing in that moment that every single person I knew could experience exactly what I felt. No pictures, no memory, will ever do it justice. There are lots of amazing mountains in this world and I hope I get to climb to the top of more. But climbing that mountain reminded me that the most incredible mountains we climb are the ones that live within us. The ones that are so challenging, often make it so difficult to breathe, but that when we get to the top make all of it worth the effort. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Ontario lakes: I grew up going to a cottage in Sharbot Lake, near Ottawa. I have fond memories of searching for turtles, swimming to the other side of the bay, canoeing, going out in the paddle boat with my dad and having lunch, eating my great uncle`s amazing raspberry pie, reading on the end of the dock. `Family`is the one word that comes to my mind when I think about that place. And I am unbelievably lucky to have such an amazing, supportive one.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. An eco-resort in the Caribbean: I`ve never felt more alive laughing in the waves and I have never felt so humbled in my entire life. The people in that community had nothing, were dirt poor, and yet they were so generous and thankful and gracious. That experience made me realize that we can have nothing and still have everything. We can have everything and still feel like we have nothing. Things don`t make us happy, don`t fulfil us, people do. My face streamed with tears as we descended to Toronto on the plane ride back. I was so afraid that I would forget what I learned there, that I`d come back home and take things for granted again. I didn`t (don`t) want to be that kind of person. A person who forgets to be grateful.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. University: I am on the final stretch of paying off my rather hefty student loan. Every single penny was worth it. I struggled to finance my education and I`ve struggled to pay it off. But what I learned in those classrooms ...you can`t put a price on. I am a more open-minded, critical thinker than I ever would have been otherwise. I read beautiful books, learned valuable lessons about myself and history. And I made friendships that are rooted so deeply that I am confident they will last, regardless of geography, of time, of circumstance.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Pair of warm arms: a place to feel safe, loved, appreciated, valued. I can`t think of a better place to be or a place where you learn more than you do there. When you`re wrapped up in someone else or have someone else wrapped up in you...soak it up. Appreciate it. Never tire of telling that person how much they mean, how much you love them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Sitting by a three-tier waterfall in upper state NY: it was a little gem off of the highway. The water was freezing but it was such a peaceful, moving spot. Whenever I feel most like myself, most happy...it`s usually around or in water. Standing in the rain, floating on a raft, letting my legs dangle off a dock, walking along a shoreline, diving into a glass lake...maybe you`ve felt it too, that instant, magnificent calm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Inside music: I can`t really explain this one very well. But it`s that space you occupy when a song occupies you. When it tells you a story, or perhaps recounts your own. I`ve gotten lost in that space before, I`ve been found in that space before...knowledge, wisdom, acceptance, truth, sadness...it`s all there, sometimes all at once.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I`d love to hear your seven wonders. Post below or send me an e-mail writephotographer@gmail.com.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-503679693552016816?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/503679693552016816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-7-wonders.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/503679693552016816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/503679693552016816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-7-wonders.html' title='My 7 Wonders...'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2931897961548503378</id><published>2011-12-06T10:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T22:50:40.681-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I'd Tell My Younger Self</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What would you tell your younger self, if given the opportunity? Would it be to take a chance? To tell someone that you love them? That you're sorry? To choose a different path? To be kinder to others? Listen more? To dare to do the thing you always wanted to do, but never did? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked friends and family this fall to submit to me messages they would give their younger self. Some of them were serious, some of them funny, some full of wisdom, others just broke my heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a bunch of those messages and wrote them on cue cards. I carried those cue cards wherever I went - to work, on a trip, hiking, visiting friends, walking downtown. I took photos of them in various locations and stopped to talk to people who asked what I was doing and why. It was an amazing experience!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, we don't get to go back and have a conversation with our younger self. Life doesn't offer us that. But why not apply some of these messages to our lives now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's never too late, at the very least, to try.&amp;nbsp;Here are a few of my favourites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_pmJz_r9KHo/Tt7XVfs9ycI/AAAAAAAACZw/4rwZM__m664/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s1aW94SIR0I/Tt2BiM9gpmI/AAAAAAAACZI/ZSkZdTp54A4/s1600/198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s1aW94SIR0I/Tt2BiM9gpmI/AAAAAAAACZI/ZSkZdTp54A4/s400/198.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U2IwtSv3amg/Tt2Bnw3JznI/AAAAAAAACZQ/DqIceS0_WVs/s1600/204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U2IwtSv3amg/Tt2Bnw3JznI/AAAAAAAACZQ/DqIceS0_WVs/s400/204.JPG" width="243" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hBxXDNMoZhY/Tt2BsgNdDII/AAAAAAAACZY/JFSEz6h-exw/s1600/211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="261" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hBxXDNMoZhY/Tt2BsgNdDII/AAAAAAAACZY/JFSEz6h-exw/s400/211.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OUPg1dVupqg/Tt2B2TWYTQI/AAAAAAAACZg/y2TaFgEm-Jo/s1600/253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OUPg1dVupqg/Tt2B2TWYTQI/AAAAAAAACZg/y2TaFgEm-Jo/s400/253.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d4FMn7AzY5Y/Tt2B86wzb0I/AAAAAAAACZo/SpXKCexDKaA/s1600/Kelli+289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="255" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d4FMn7AzY5Y/Tt2B86wzb0I/AAAAAAAACZo/SpXKCexDKaA/s400/Kelli+289.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hB5YoscPELI/Tt7cmZI1_aI/AAAAAAAACZ4/Ca8XTFtQN_g/s1600/082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hB5YoscPELI/Tt7cmZI1_aI/AAAAAAAACZ4/Ca8XTFtQN_g/s400/082.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3bNtIIGhHWU/Tt7dlKJ0hVI/AAAAAAAACaA/d9Rrw_ZDXyg/s1600/271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3bNtIIGhHWU/Tt7dlKJ0hVI/AAAAAAAACaA/d9Rrw_ZDXyg/s400/271.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/100540570374803005652/ThingsIDTellMyYoungerSelf?authkey=Gv1sRgCLWM-OekkN30CQ"&gt;Click here for more project photos.&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to contribute to the project? Share your message(s) in the comment section below this post. You can attach your name or remain anonymous. Love to hear from you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2931897961548503378?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2931897961548503378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/things-id-tell-my-younger-self.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2931897961548503378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2931897961548503378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/things-id-tell-my-younger-self.html' title='Things I&apos;d Tell My Younger Self'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s1aW94SIR0I/Tt2BiM9gpmI/AAAAAAAACZI/ZSkZdTp54A4/s72-c/198.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-8411173148409372981</id><published>2011-12-04T15:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T16:16:57.265-05:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Ways You Might Push Others Away</title><content type='html'>1. You're always on the defensive.&lt;br /&gt;2. You are the first person to complain about something but never one to offer up any solutions.&lt;br /&gt;3. You always seem irritated - with the grocery store clerk, with your parking spot, with anything.&lt;br /&gt;4. You live in the past, constantly. You're so caught up in what happened before that you can't see what's happening now.&lt;br /&gt;5. You harbour resentment. And it's obvious.&lt;br /&gt;6. You talk about the same thing again and again. And it's always, always about you.&lt;br /&gt;7. Things are on your schedule. You expect other people to change their plans, but rarely will you alter your own.&lt;br /&gt;8. You are "too busy". (Get over yourself: everyone is busy. If something or someone is important to you, you'll make time.)&lt;br /&gt;9. You constantly interrupt.&lt;br /&gt;10. You don't really listen. Instead, what someone else is talking about becomes about your issues, your similar experiences, your past.&lt;br /&gt;11. You're so set in your ways that you don't see how they can keep people out sometimes. How they might be holding you back.&lt;br /&gt;12. You don't fight fairly. You bring up stuff from the past instead of dealing with the issue(s) at hand.&lt;br /&gt;13. You nag.&lt;br /&gt;14. You expect others to be perfect, and when they don't live up to your expectations you shut them out.&lt;br /&gt;15. You are narrow-minded, not willing to hear what others have to say, might be feeling, what evidence might suggest that what you believe isn't necessarily true.&lt;br /&gt;16. You're lazy and expect other people to do everything for you...including write that report, iron your shirt or clean up the kitchen after you've made a mess of it.&lt;br /&gt;17. You don't communicate - instead, you become a wall of silence. The only place silence will get you...is alone.&lt;br /&gt;18. You don't make decisions. You're a fencer - full of "maybe"s and "one day"s and "we'll see"s.&lt;br /&gt;19. You don't let other people see the real you, the vulnerable you. You think doing that is a sign of weakness (so sad...you know what? It's a sign of strength).&lt;br /&gt;20. You're all talk and no action. (Words are just words unless you live them.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-8411173148409372981?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/8411173148409372981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/20-ways-you-might-push-others-away.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8411173148409372981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8411173148409372981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/20-ways-you-might-push-others-away.html' title='20 Ways You Might Push Others Away'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-5683854911670552633</id><published>2011-12-04T12:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T12:55:08.792-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Things Money Can't Buy</title><content type='html'>1. Time. You can't get it back.&lt;br /&gt;2. Love. (Or at least not the right kind.)&lt;br /&gt;3. A legacy. Leave one based on what you do for others, how you inspire others, not on your capital.&lt;br /&gt;4. Success. Achievement has to come from within. Determination, drive, a supportive partner, family, friends...those will get you where you need to be. Money will only temporarily move you ahead.&lt;br /&gt;5. Forgiveness. You can't placate someone with things...they're just things.&lt;br /&gt;6. Self-worth. Define your worth by who you surround yourself with, what goals you meet and exceed, what your values are, lessons you've learned through experience.&lt;br /&gt;7. Trust. It has to be earned. You have to prove you deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;8. Second chances. You have to ask for those. You have to want them with all you've got.&lt;br /&gt;9. A passion or dream. It can get you so far, but what's inside of you will carry you further.&lt;br /&gt;10. Reasons/answers. You come to a place of understanding and knowledge through a willingness to be open and accept truths, no matter what they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of us get caught up in bills, worrying about our financial futures, wondering when we're going to get a break. But the things that define us are not available for purchase. They're what live in us, what we share with others, qualities that others will remember us by when we've long gone from their lives or passed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-5683854911670552633?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/5683854911670552633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/10-things-money-cant-buy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5683854911670552633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5683854911670552633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/10-things-money-cant-buy.html' title='10 Things Money Can&apos;t Buy'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4328552881571430886</id><published>2011-12-03T22:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T22:21:09.934-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Studio 6</title><content type='html'>Door kicked shut with feet,&lt;br /&gt;light from the street&lt;br /&gt;making visible only shadows,&lt;br /&gt;there isn't enough courage to&lt;br /&gt;stop the courage it took to&lt;br /&gt;climb all those stairs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaking hands calmed by&lt;br /&gt;ones always sure,&lt;br /&gt;tongue brushing joy&lt;br /&gt;across canvas,&lt;br /&gt;artists creating, feeding that&lt;br /&gt;unmet ache that's long&lt;br /&gt;haunted, long ignored&lt;br /&gt;the longing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no going back,&lt;br /&gt;no returning to before,&lt;br /&gt;the place where it was&lt;br /&gt;always just a question,&lt;br /&gt;now an answer to live&lt;br /&gt;with, even if the answer means&lt;br /&gt;that they were right&lt;br /&gt;all along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keys and shirts get tossed,&lt;br /&gt;limbs and lips find their way&lt;br /&gt;and get lost,&lt;br /&gt;they're a reckless heap:&lt;br /&gt;versions of themselves&lt;br /&gt;others only wish they&lt;br /&gt;could reach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4328552881571430886?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4328552881571430886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/studio-6.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4328552881571430886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4328552881571430886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/studio-6.html' title='Studio 6'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-397431962852031292</id><published>2011-12-01T19:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T20:14:01.541-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Other Plans</title><content type='html'>I found myself laughing into my steering wheel tonight. I had plans but life had other plans for me. It was determined that I wasn't going to get where I was going. I fought it for several minutes, tried really hard to ignore the obvious sign...well, the quite literal sign, and then I just gave up. Let it be what it was going to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the way home I started thinking about how I sometimes feel like I'm never in the right place (missing something by a moment) or how sometimes I just know that I'm exactly where I'm meant to be (soaking up a moment).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had my bags packed 15 months ago, ready to go to New York. I'd been looking forward to the trip for a long time and needed an escape. Ten minutes before I was about to leave, my sister called to tell me she was in labour. I thought it was a joke - she was early!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, instead of climbing a high peak mountain, I spent the day grocery shopping and cleaning up her house. Instead of relaxing, I spent it excited, in high alert. Instead of sipping on a bottle of wine, I found myself sneaking with my best friend into the birthing unit...holding a tiny, beautiful baby in my hands. I'd give up New York every single time for that moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to smile - when I came home tonight after my silly evening and detour from plans, there in the window, waiting for me, was that precious baby girl. All smiles, giggles, happy to see and get to play with her auntie.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life had other plans... and you know what? I was okay with it. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-397431962852031292?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/397431962852031292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/other-plans.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/397431962852031292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/397431962852031292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/12/other-plans.html' title='Other Plans'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4786050938843886493</id><published>2011-11-30T17:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T17:45:19.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Ways to Sew Up Your Broken Heart</title><content type='html'>1.       Don’t expect it to happen overnight. I spent five months grieving a lost relationship this year. I kept beating myself up about that but then realized of course it wasn’t going to be easy. It never is when you love someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.       Talk about it with friends you trust. Don’t hold it all in, don’t hide away, don’t shutdown. Share your grief with someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.       Focus on the things you love. What makes you smile? What do you enjoy doing? Don’t stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.       Don’t think that being “busy” is going to help. You can be busy for weeks, months, years…but eventually that grief is going to catch up with you. Yes, be social, get out there, keep living your life. But make time to sit with how you feel and acknowledge it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.       Be open to someone else. When I finally looked up from my grief this year I stared right into the eyes of someone who reminded me of the kind of love I deserve. Who made me believe in love (and myself) again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.       Don’t idealize the good, don’t focus on the bad. There were wonderful things about your relationship and then there were some not-so-good things. Remember it as it was: real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.       Laugh. Oh, please just laugh. Don’t let the weight of your loss drag you under. About my own grief, my little sister said to me, “I hope you never go back to that place again. We couldn’t reach you.” I was stunned. I never want to be unreachable to those I love again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.       Remember what you have to offer someone else. Remember that someone is going to want all of you and love all of you. Who will walk toward, not away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.       Use this as an opportunity to self-evaluate. Are there things you need to work on that might help your next relationship? Lessons you can take with you as you move forward?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.   Accept advice and wisdom from others, but don’t let them placate how you feel. Every person’s experience is different. We all grieve in our own ways, at our own pace. Do what feels right for you. Yes, you will move on – but when &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt;’re ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4786050938843886493?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4786050938843886493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/10-ways-to-sew-up-your-broken-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4786050938843886493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4786050938843886493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/10-ways-to-sew-up-your-broken-heart.html' title='10 Ways to Sew Up Your Broken Heart'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-6187621500759751979</id><published>2011-11-27T19:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T19:22:07.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Write You Out of Me</title><content type='html'>No conversation with silence,&lt;br /&gt;no amount of creating something else&lt;br /&gt;with my hands,&lt;br /&gt;no song could call out an end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No amount of busy-ness,&lt;br /&gt;no amount of being still,&lt;br /&gt;no movement above or below&lt;br /&gt;could&amp;nbsp;make real the forgetting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when my heart feels as&lt;br /&gt;though it could leap from&lt;br /&gt;my chest,&lt;br /&gt;tears fall long hungry and denied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit down and type...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the only way to let you&lt;br /&gt;go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is to write you out of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-6187621500759751979?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/6187621500759751979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/write-you-out-of-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6187621500759751979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6187621500759751979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/write-you-out-of-me.html' title='Write You Out of Me'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-5267669561871677282</id><published>2011-11-27T15:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T15:42:15.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is What Happy Looks Like...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;My friend Kelli has always been gorgeous - inside and out. But she's radiating with joy these days after losing more than 100 lbs. When you're happy, deep down heart happy, the whole world can see it...and it changes your whole world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pyq-ZWjMSUQ/TtKcgEfUzDI/AAAAAAAAB_c/qGPtEOQUxCU/s1600/Kelli+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pyq-ZWjMSUQ/TtKcgEfUzDI/AAAAAAAAB_c/qGPtEOQUxCU/s400/Kelli+014.JPG" width="260" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iQuEmwA30Wk/TtKcoZ4wUOI/AAAAAAAAB_k/A2kucMDeaR0/s1600/Kelli+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iQuEmwA30Wk/TtKcoZ4wUOI/AAAAAAAAB_k/A2kucMDeaR0/s400/Kelli+019.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oCFUbEdfy9c/TtKcuTHo8oI/AAAAAAAAB_s/r5Vr0pSaR9o/s1600/Kelli+074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="262" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oCFUbEdfy9c/TtKcuTHo8oI/AAAAAAAAB_s/r5Vr0pSaR9o/s400/Kelli+074.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tnmn9KIgIKA/TtKcyyD4_fI/AAAAAAAAB_0/uPATFmQsrRI/s1600/Kelli+173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tnmn9KIgIKA/TtKcyyD4_fI/AAAAAAAAB_0/uPATFmQsrRI/s400/Kelli+173.JPG" width="220" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZvwTPZ4RUnU/TtKc5gpOjWI/AAAAAAAAB_8/vo7myjGUo58/s1600/Kelli+285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZvwTPZ4RUnU/TtKc5gpOjWI/AAAAAAAAB_8/vo7myjGUo58/s400/Kelli+285.JPG" width="258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6m9R14epxm8/TtKc_yIIvOI/AAAAAAAACAE/jITtMdH_lW4/s1600/Kelli+437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6m9R14epxm8/TtKc_yIIvOI/AAAAAAAACAE/jITtMdH_lW4/s400/Kelli+437.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_hDzYUkuNAc/TtKdFNLJaiI/AAAAAAAACAM/UK36ymfuE6E/s1600/Kelli+471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_hDzYUkuNAc/TtKdFNLJaiI/AAAAAAAACAM/UK36ymfuE6E/s400/Kelli+471.JPG" width="250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YIU4H9CbU80/TtKdKemCwhI/AAAAAAAACAU/k1HDMNxAkak/s1600/Kelli+516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YIU4H9CbU80/TtKdKemCwhI/AAAAAAAACAU/k1HDMNxAkak/s400/Kelli+516.JPG" width="251" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DtZtoMXo5Kw/TtKdsDLR16I/AAAAAAAACAc/TlIzX4sovPc/s1600/Kelli+034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="252" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DtZtoMXo5Kw/TtKdsDLR16I/AAAAAAAACAc/TlIzX4sovPc/s400/Kelli+034.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-boyNGRkRB6c/TtKeA4GgBeI/AAAAAAAACAk/SjkQ1XeOxdo/s1600/Kelli+634.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-boyNGRkRB6c/TtKeA4GgBeI/AAAAAAAACAk/SjkQ1XeOxdo/s400/Kelli+634.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-5267669561871677282?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/5267669561871677282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/this-is-what-happy-looks-like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5267669561871677282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5267669561871677282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/this-is-what-happy-looks-like.html' title='This is What Happy Looks Like...'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pyq-ZWjMSUQ/TtKcgEfUzDI/AAAAAAAAB_c/qGPtEOQUxCU/s72-c/Kelli+014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2108459823706578227</id><published>2011-11-26T12:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T16:36:43.039-05:00</updated><title type='text'>15 Things That Are Hard...But So Worth It</title><content type='html'>1. Letting someone in, really in - whether it's a friend, a lover, a partner. Ever notice how everything else suddenly becomes easier?&lt;br /&gt;2. Doing the thing that scares you most. Take that chance. It's always, no matter what happens, worth it.&lt;br /&gt;3. Getting up for a day you know is going to be trying. I remind myself that by tomorrow night it will be over and I will have gotten through it - whatever it may be.&lt;br /&gt;4. Change. Good opportunity(s) to stretch, grow.&lt;br /&gt;5. Admitting you were wrong. It's pride that will hurt your relationships/friendships.&lt;br /&gt;6. Asking yourself if the person you're in love with is really good for you (yes!! or no... neither is a wrong answer).&lt;br /&gt;7. Telling someone how you really feel. Even if they don't reciprocate, you won't live with&amp;nbsp;what ifs or regrets.&lt;br /&gt;8. Acknowledging the fact that you're not doing what you're supposed to be doing - what you really want to do. We get stuck in circumstances and comfortability, feeling safe and secure. Is that how you want to live your life?&lt;br /&gt;9. Ending a friendship that feels toxic. It's like love...let them go. If it was a good friendship (and good love)...it will find its way back, somehow.&lt;br /&gt;10. Trying something new. Even if you fail at it, rarely do you have something to lose.&lt;br /&gt;11. Being authentic, being you...not someone else's ideal version, not what you think others want you to be, just you. You're only half living behind all of those careful walls and masks you hide behind.&lt;br /&gt;12. Leaning on others. Not being afraid to ask for support, help, a hug. We try to carry so many things on our own - grief, disappointment, hurt. Let others in and you'll heal faster.&lt;br /&gt;13. Doing what your heart and gut tell you - without the pressure of your parents, your friends, mentors, colleagues, role models. What feels right for you? Live it. Don't live in the shadow of someone else and don't live for what others want.&lt;br /&gt;14. Letting yourself feel ...keep ignoring feelings and eventually they'll either come back to haunt you or you'll drown in them.&lt;br /&gt;15. Believing when someone tells you that they love you. Accept it as truth. Don't be afraid, don't push them away, don't think that because someone broke your heart in the past that the person standing in front of you is going to do the same. Believe and let it go where it goes - without hesitation, without expectation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2108459823706578227?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2108459823706578227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/15-things-that-are-hardbut-so-worth-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2108459823706578227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2108459823706578227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/15-things-that-are-hardbut-so-worth-it.html' title='15 Things That Are Hard...But So Worth It'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2463830486066606367</id><published>2011-11-26T10:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-26T10:16:18.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chancellor's House</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;For Livi - old roommate and forever friend&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Versions of us shelved&lt;br /&gt;like jars of memory,&lt;br /&gt;long-expired, too long&lt;br /&gt;gone unopened,&lt;br /&gt;paired with the right bottle&lt;br /&gt;of red, the remembrance is&lt;br /&gt;sweet...or perhaps skewed&lt;br /&gt;by the forgetting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were beautiful,&lt;br /&gt;maybe because of&lt;br /&gt;our unknowing or&lt;br /&gt;in spite of it,&lt;br /&gt;passersby who never&lt;br /&gt;knew what marks&lt;br /&gt;they left, what hauntings&lt;br /&gt;their ghosts would do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We might have hung&lt;br /&gt;upside down, but it was&lt;br /&gt;a glorious view, a front&lt;br /&gt;row seat to the rest of&lt;br /&gt;our lives, unaware that&lt;br /&gt;for the rest of them we&lt;br /&gt;would wanting nothing&lt;br /&gt;more than to go back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2463830486066606367?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2463830486066606367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/chancellors-house.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2463830486066606367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2463830486066606367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/chancellors-house.html' title='Chancellor&apos;s House'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-266141532687890677</id><published>2011-11-25T15:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-25T15:52:12.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few More Cuties From Last Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-syrvjk3n-gA/Ts_9-axGTHI/AAAAAAAABt0/Qy7UpqJy5-E/s1600/114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-syrvjk3n-gA/Ts_9-axGTHI/AAAAAAAABt0/Qy7UpqJy5-E/s320/114.JPG" width="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3vkaoc0ipgY/Ts_-DR-i4vI/AAAAAAAABt8/eC_8xLp-_yU/s1600/127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3vkaoc0ipgY/Ts_-DR-i4vI/AAAAAAAABt8/eC_8xLp-_yU/s320/127.JPG" width="205" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EKiprgr9dKw/Ts_-HEwGXoI/AAAAAAAABuE/uS2CvGeSWhY/s1600/192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EKiprgr9dKw/Ts_-HEwGXoI/AAAAAAAABuE/uS2CvGeSWhY/s320/192.JPG" width="204" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o_qjXLFEOGg/Ts_-NBuobsI/AAAAAAAABuM/y2nb_S-V5gw/s1600/329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o_qjXLFEOGg/Ts_-NBuobsI/AAAAAAAABuM/y2nb_S-V5gw/s320/329.JPG" width="204" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l7ABJRXlcD0/Ts_-Tht6jvI/AAAAAAAABuU/JraY99iU9YQ/s1600/432.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l7ABJRXlcD0/Ts_-Tht6jvI/AAAAAAAABuU/JraY99iU9YQ/s320/432.JPG" width="235" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gIszB7QjbBA/Ts_-f9xo7UI/AAAAAAAABuc/nWVnAmBXCQs/s1600/511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gIszB7QjbBA/Ts_-f9xo7UI/AAAAAAAABuc/nWVnAmBXCQs/s320/511.JPG" width="208" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Qo1VU1wLjY/Ts_-lHp__PI/AAAAAAAABuk/q23cecg1Ano/s1600/551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Qo1VU1wLjY/Ts_-lHp__PI/AAAAAAAABuk/q23cecg1Ano/s320/551.JPG" width="171" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uMBrdLSXYFw/Ts_-pEIVfJI/AAAAAAAABus/hp_-f44hZBY/s1600/584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="207" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uMBrdLSXYFw/Ts_-pEIVfJI/AAAAAAAABus/hp_-f44hZBY/s320/584.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kDDSItqVweg/Ts_-thZ4fgI/AAAAAAAABu0/qXdRw97EUpQ/s1600/722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="207" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kDDSItqVweg/Ts_-thZ4fgI/AAAAAAAABu0/qXdRw97EUpQ/s320/722.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LENd1MhdLog/Ts_-zA-v7tI/AAAAAAAABu8/6_rUM040fJE/s1600/822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LENd1MhdLog/Ts_-zA-v7tI/AAAAAAAABu8/6_rUM040fJE/s320/822.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-266141532687890677?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/266141532687890677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/few-more-cuties-from-last-weekend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/266141532687890677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/266141532687890677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/few-more-cuties-from-last-weekend.html' title='A Few More Cuties From Last Weekend'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-syrvjk3n-gA/Ts_9-axGTHI/AAAAAAAABt0/Qy7UpqJy5-E/s72-c/114.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-5906568583178471697</id><published>2011-11-24T16:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-24T17:01:35.347-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Kind of Love Do You Want?</title><content type='html'>My friend said something the other day that stuck with me: "The kind of love we're looking for isn't what everyone wants. Some people want security, some people want comfort, some people just want to be at a certain spot in their life. Not everyone wants a best friend, not everyone wants that all-consuming, can't-get-enough-of-the-other-person kind of love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were talking about settling, about our fear of being someone's settle, about certain couples that we look at and wonder, "Where did all the joy go?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even though it made me sad to think that sometimes people choose being together for reasons that come secondary to love (or they're in a kind of love that isn't&amp;nbsp;gleeful), it confirmed, for me, what kind of love it is that I am looking for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;One with laughter...lots of laughter&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One in which I can be entirely myself, where love looks at me (even in my flawed, weak moments) and says, "Awesome!"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One that's forgiving and open&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One that supports creativity (and is, in some ways, creative itself)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One that isn't afraid to challenge, let go, build roots, be as wild as it is calm&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One in which I feel confident and sure&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One in which I can keep stretching and growing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I have a few friends who are in this kind of love. And it is so evident on their faces. They radiate with it and it seeps wonderfully into every part of their life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what kind of love it is that you're looking for, or in, I hope that you are happy. We're lucky in this country to&amp;nbsp;have the freedom to love in the very diverse ways that we do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-5906568583178471697?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/5906568583178471697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/what-kind-of-love-do-you-want.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5906568583178471697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5906568583178471697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/what-kind-of-love-do-you-want.html' title='What Kind of Love Do You Want?'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3220427184970009287</id><published>2011-11-23T20:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T21:23:03.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow should be yesterday,&lt;br /&gt;218 reasons why it can't&lt;br /&gt;(but I haven`t found one good enough)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There`s a spoon at the bottom of&lt;br /&gt;my purse, leftovers of a meal&lt;br /&gt;shared in a space somewhere between&lt;br /&gt;what`s written and what I`d long to&lt;br /&gt;write&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No music or hum of fan to mute&lt;br /&gt;out all that longing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3220427184970009287?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3220427184970009287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/untitled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3220427184970009287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3220427184970009287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-6155418744719956598</id><published>2011-11-23T19:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T20:13:40.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Fabulous Things I’ve Rediscovered this Week</title><content type='html'>1.       Something that once made you mad will later make you laugh.&lt;br /&gt;2.       How awesome it is to talk to an old friend and pick up right where you left off, as though no time has passed.&lt;br /&gt;3.       Being angry can make you productive.&lt;br /&gt;4.       How good it feels when you finally stop talking about something and actually go and do it.&lt;br /&gt;5.       When it hits you that an end to something is just the beginning  of something else.&lt;br /&gt;6.       How pumped you get when your favourite song comes on the radio twice on the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;7.       How much you must love something if hours and hours go by without you noticing.&lt;br /&gt;8.       How amazing it feels when something that made no sense suddenly makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;9.       Letting go is a lot easier than you thought if you genuinely love someone. You just want them to be happy, want them to life their best life (even if it`s not with you).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10.   Laughter is the best kind of ab work you can do.&lt;br /&gt;11.   The value of a good conversation.&lt;br /&gt;12.   Just how yummy homemade lasagna is.&lt;br /&gt;13. Impromptu vacation days – yup, I’m taking one Friday! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14.&amp;nbsp;The wonderful pairing of hot and cold. Makes everything taste better!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15. Falling asleep reading. Reminds me of my university days…and those are days worth remembering.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16. How alive you feel after a really good workout.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;17. Just how improved your life is when you de-clutter and get back to the basics.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;18. Canadian Tire - enough said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;19. How good it feels when someone is excited that you`re in their life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;20. How a simple smile, a kind word or a loving gesture can make all the difference.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-6155418744719956598?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/6155418744719956598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/20-fabulous-things-ive-re-discovered.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6155418744719956598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6155418744719956598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/20-fabulous-things-ive-re-discovered.html' title='20 Fabulous Things I’ve Rediscovered this Week'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-8818398300338190088</id><published>2011-11-21T20:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T20:51:08.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Cuties</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wfthVxieLsM/Tsr9gdNeCGI/AAAAAAAABs8/Akktnm2fpVY/s1600/154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wfthVxieLsM/Tsr9gdNeCGI/AAAAAAAABs8/Akktnm2fpVY/s320/154.JPG" width="207" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4wWsrKwAM-0/Tsr9lEH_SCI/AAAAAAAABtE/JzKECiJx66w/s1600/166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4wWsrKwAM-0/Tsr9lEH_SCI/AAAAAAAABtE/JzKECiJx66w/s320/166.JPG" width="211" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FuOVTgFg1yc/Tsr9qqPLA6I/AAAAAAAABtM/8MIjUASsoW0/s1600/700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FuOVTgFg1yc/Tsr9qqPLA6I/AAAAAAAABtM/8MIjUASsoW0/s320/700.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PcWZvnOh8mU/Tsr9wdpUP4I/AAAAAAAABtU/ZKJB0veFYGU/s1600/1186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PcWZvnOh8mU/Tsr9wdpUP4I/AAAAAAAABtU/ZKJB0veFYGU/s320/1186.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VSsHR6JcbtE/Tsr918g6AZI/AAAAAAAABtc/I6hE7RDBjcI/s1600/1188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VSsHR6JcbtE/Tsr918g6AZI/AAAAAAAABtc/I6hE7RDBjcI/s320/1188.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7HEacjFMMks/Tsr-tg-bVQI/AAAAAAAABtk/z_TlWw4qm0c/s1600/524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="233" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7HEacjFMMks/Tsr-tg-bVQI/AAAAAAAABtk/z_TlWw4qm0c/s320/524.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2MGKwaeMg0k/Tsr_7-gulJI/AAAAAAAABts/-ee_K_H081k/s1600/1194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2MGKwaeMg0k/Tsr_7-gulJI/AAAAAAAABts/-ee_K_H081k/s320/1194.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did a few photo sessions on the weekend to help promote my friend's business Little Sister Boutique. Here are a couple of my favourites (there are so many!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-8818398300338190088?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/8818398300338190088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/few-cuties.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8818398300338190088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8818398300338190088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/few-cuties.html' title='A Few Cuties'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wfthVxieLsM/Tsr9gdNeCGI/AAAAAAAABs8/Akktnm2fpVY/s72-c/154.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2357681706307396263</id><published>2011-11-21T12:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T12:17:15.337-05:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Ways to Break Your Own Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Not dealing with past issues before entering a new relationship.&lt;br /&gt;2. Not telling someone you love how you feel (swallow your pride and take a risk!). &lt;br /&gt;3. Holding on to something that was never yours to begin with. &lt;br /&gt;4. Believing that someone who walked away is going to walk back into your life again (in the process of waiting for them, you’re missing out on so much). &lt;br /&gt;5. Moping around in “what could have been” instead of moving forward. &lt;br /&gt;6. Staying in a relationship that doesn’t make you happy, doesn’t bring out the best in you or makes you feel alone. &lt;br /&gt;7. Not following your heart, chasing your dreams, giving it everything you’ve got.&lt;br /&gt;8. Assuming that your relationship/friendships are fine and don’t need work and care.&lt;br /&gt;9. Thinking that someone has changed – real change has to come from within you.&lt;br /&gt;10. Repeating old patterns. Try stitching new ones.&lt;br /&gt;11. Being miserable and doing nothing (but complain) about it.&lt;br /&gt;12. Waiting for your fairytale to come true. There’s no such thing. But there is such thing as good, real love…just be open to where, when and how you find it.&lt;br /&gt;13. Talking, talking, talking…and not acting. Words mean nothing without action to back them up. &lt;br /&gt;14. Letting fear of hurting others prevent you from doing what’s best (it’s impossible to not hurt others…just do it with grace and an open heart). &lt;br /&gt;15. Refusing to forgive someone. &lt;br /&gt;16. Not asking for forgiveness or a second chance. &lt;br /&gt;17. Not saying you’re sorry when you know you were wrong. &lt;br /&gt;18. Seeing someone as you want to see them, not as they actually are.&lt;br /&gt;19. Hearing what you want to, not what’s being said. &lt;br /&gt;20. Lying to yourself about what you want or convincing yourself that you’re content with the way things are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2357681706307396263?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2357681706307396263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/20-ways-to-break-your-own-heart.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2357681706307396263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2357681706307396263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/20-ways-to-break-your-own-heart.html' title='20 Ways to Break Your Own Heart'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-1850736336854596255</id><published>2011-11-20T18:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T18:54:56.074-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Things I Shouldn't Waste Time On</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;(some days I'm successful at this, others...not so much)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Obsessing about things I can't change. They just are what they are and I need to live with that.&lt;br /&gt;2. Wanting to take back mistakes. They are really good lessons I can learn from. &lt;br /&gt;3. Being angry. It takes up so much energy and the only one who gets hurt is me.&lt;br /&gt;4. Trying to figure out why people do or don't do certain things. I'll never know.&lt;br /&gt;5. Wondering about 'what if's or 'someday's. They don't really exist. (Or at least I haven't seen either yet...)&lt;br /&gt;6. Thinking about/caring about people who aren't thinking about me.&lt;br /&gt;7. Trying to guess at love...where it's hiding, why, when it's going to stop being such a coward. When it's going to find me and hang on for good, tightly.&lt;br /&gt;8. Punishing myself - for not saying things I should have, for saying too much, for assuming, for choosing incorrectly.&lt;br /&gt;9. Wishing I could make decisions for others. Their choices are theirs, not mine.&lt;br /&gt;10. Looking with longing at the past...it's gone, traces still left in memory but otherwise unreachable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-1850736336854596255?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/1850736336854596255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/10-things-i-shouldnt-waste-time-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1850736336854596255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1850736336854596255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/10-things-i-shouldnt-waste-time-on.html' title='10 Things I Shouldn&apos;t Waste Time On'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-8924016329008392470</id><published>2011-11-19T14:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T16:32:47.572-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Being 30</title><content type='html'>"Being 30 means I am comfortable in my own skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being 30 means new beginnings..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...these are just two of the awesome things about being 30 a group of beautiful ladies shared with me last weekend. Here are a few fun photos...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OR8hTUIGsvM/TsgHq2IWL7I/AAAAAAAABfU/UuBsgYhjd1o/s1600/058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="251" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OR8hTUIGsvM/TsgHq2IWL7I/AAAAAAAABfU/UuBsgYhjd1o/s400/058.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6wjw3K3p4vc/TsgHwQj-icI/AAAAAAAABfc/GOCxxrOf818/s1600/070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="298" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6wjw3K3p4vc/TsgHwQj-icI/AAAAAAAABfc/GOCxxrOf818/s400/070.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8sNci8pzw04/TsgH1c6YuLI/AAAAAAAABfk/Hv_wE3HYbZA/s1600/084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="361" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8sNci8pzw04/TsgH1c6YuLI/AAAAAAAABfk/Hv_wE3HYbZA/s400/084.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fqh5fHxxH3Q/TsgH69tD43I/AAAAAAAABfs/qoJXTdms5UI/s1600/102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="225" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fqh5fHxxH3Q/TsgH69tD43I/AAAAAAAABfs/qoJXTdms5UI/s400/102.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zdy7hS6rMYg/TsgeOQ3IZHI/AAAAAAAABf0/oT0j-2xBy4I/s1600/215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zdy7hS6rMYg/TsgeOQ3IZHI/AAAAAAAABf0/oT0j-2xBy4I/s400/215.JPG" width="258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q22HkbawNno/TsgeUkiTgnI/AAAAAAAABf8/YVX6ulnbDrs/s1600/221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q22HkbawNno/TsgeUkiTgnI/AAAAAAAABf8/YVX6ulnbDrs/s400/221.JPG" width="258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tJxucOFaGtU/TsgebHI2KsI/AAAAAAAABgE/nnlPZuLSt5s/s1600/248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tJxucOFaGtU/TsgebHI2KsI/AAAAAAAABgE/nnlPZuLSt5s/s400/248.JPG" width="258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y9ug6YpGhpY/TsgemW8BK-I/AAAAAAAABgM/MFFjWy1mxgU/s1600/322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y9ug6YpGhpY/TsgemW8BK-I/AAAAAAAABgM/MFFjWy1mxgU/s320/322.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C2xbtong0Ew/TsggRJ2oaGI/AAAAAAAABgU/BoqacWh_ePw/s1600/450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="285" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C2xbtong0Ew/TsggRJ2oaGI/AAAAAAAABgU/BoqacWh_ePw/s320/450.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-8924016329008392470?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/8924016329008392470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/being-30.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8924016329008392470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8924016329008392470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/being-30.html' title='Being 30'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OR8hTUIGsvM/TsgHq2IWL7I/AAAAAAAABfU/UuBsgYhjd1o/s72-c/058.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4368216682828114006</id><published>2011-11-17T17:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T21:49:38.820-05:00</updated><title type='text'>9 Things My Niece Has Taught Me</title><content type='html'>1. There really is such a thing as love at first sight. &lt;br /&gt;2. My heart won't always be broken. It will heal if I let other love and laughter in. &lt;br /&gt;3. Miracles happen every single day. &lt;br /&gt;4. No sense worrying about things you can't control when you could spend your time on the ground giggling instead.&lt;br /&gt;5. I don't need to be so serious.&lt;br /&gt;6. You get this one life - one chance to experience everything. Don't let it slip away.&lt;br /&gt;7. You just never know what's going to happen. &lt;br /&gt;8. There's nothing better than dancing in your kitchen on a Friday night.&lt;br /&gt;9. No matter how bad things are, how crappy your day, one person can smile at you and make all of the difference. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4368216682828114006?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4368216682828114006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/9-things-my-niece-has-taught-me.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4368216682828114006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4368216682828114006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/9-things-my-niece-has-taught-me.html' title='9 Things My Niece Has Taught Me'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3904366065437313</id><published>2011-11-15T12:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T12:37:23.805-05:00</updated><title type='text'>11 Things I Know to Be True</title><content type='html'>1. You can't stop what's coming; you can delay it, but you can't stop it. Some things are bigger than us and no matter what, they're going to come at you. &lt;br /&gt;2. If you don't deal with hurt from your past, it will come back to deal with you.&lt;br /&gt;3. You can plan, set goals, work toward anything you want...but you can't predict the ways life is going to happen or change you.&lt;br /&gt;4. You don't always get to be with someone you love. Sometimes you have to watch them marry someone else. Sometimes you have to watch them walk away. Sometimes you have to walk away from them. Sometimes you have to&amp;nbsp;hold their hand&amp;nbsp;as they slip away from you, one breath at a time. It's so painful, but the only thing you can do is carry that album of memories, of lessons, with you. &lt;br /&gt;5. There is more good in this world than not. &lt;br /&gt;6. More money, more friends, more things in your schedule...it's less that will make you happy. &lt;br /&gt;7.&amp;nbsp;We lie to ourselves because the truth is either too difficult or too beautiful to know what to do with.&lt;br /&gt;8. Never say never. You don't know what, given the circumstances, you might be driven or compelled to do.&lt;br /&gt;9. It's rare that you'll actually ever know someone, really know them. You'll see parts, pieces, but it is not often that someone reveals themselves to you. &lt;br /&gt;10. Anyone who says, "You can't possibly know how I feel" has forgotten that you, too, have a story. Forgive them. What they feel is so powerful that they just can't comprehend someone else knowing what it's like. We all love fiercely, we all grieve, we all feel incredible joy... but we do it in our own ways, come to it as individuals. &lt;br /&gt;11. You have to first believe in order to experience that which you long and desire for. Believe with every fibre of your being. When it comes...then it's up to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3904366065437313?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3904366065437313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/11-things-i-know-to-be-true.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3904366065437313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3904366065437313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/11-things-i-know-to-be-true.html' title='11 Things I Know to Be True'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-149444157118761869</id><published>2011-11-14T17:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T17:30:14.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'>15 Things You Should Never Be Too Busy For</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;1. Laughing.&lt;/strong&gt; I mean rolling on the floor, deep-belly laughing. The kind that might make you tear up or double over in stitches. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Asking yourself if you’re happy.&lt;/strong&gt; What brings you complete, utter joy? Fills your heart with butterflies? Makes you want to burst out of your own skin? Fill your life with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Kissing.&lt;/strong&gt; Slow …like chocolate melting on your tongue. Hard …so you’re left breathless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Returning an e-mail, text or phone call.&lt;/strong&gt; Don’t leave the person on the other end thinking you’re a jerk or that they are not important enough to be responded to. Even if it’s just a one-liner saying you’ll get back to them soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Sleep&lt;/strong&gt;. Can’t function well without it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Enjoying a meal with someone you love.&lt;/strong&gt; Savour the flavours and conversation. Even better? Pair with a bottle of red wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. Family. They are the one constant.&lt;/strong&gt; If you can’t see them, call them. If you can’t call them, write them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. Breathing in the outdoors.&lt;/strong&gt; Sit on the edge of a dock for 10 minutes. Step out of your car and look at the stars. Snuggle up with someone you care about and watch the sunset. Meet a friend for coffee and a hike. Let the grass tickle your back. Watch a marshmellow melt to perfect yumminess in a fire. One of my favourite places to be is out in the middle of a lake sitting idle in a canoe or treading water – nothing can touch you there except calm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9. Letting go/moving forward.&lt;/strong&gt; Sometimes we busy ourselves to avoid doing just that. Being busy means we don’t have to face making important decisions, enacting change within our lives and within ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10. Apologies.&lt;/strong&gt; They can bridge distances between two people. They take guts but they are so important. So important. Don’t lose friends or good love because you didn’t say two simple words: “I’m sorry.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11. True love.&lt;/strong&gt; Believe in it. Know it is possible. It’s going to come along when you least expect it, never at the right time, never when you’re ready. It’s going to knock you off your feet, make you act like a complete fool, inspire you to do things you never thought you could do. Don’t let it get away. Don’t mistake it for any other kind of love. See it for what it is. Let it happen. Let it change your life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12. Being thankful/grateful.&lt;/strong&gt; Look around you at all of the people who love and care about you, who are going to be there no matter what kind of mistakes you make, who are going to hold you up when you don’t feel like doing anything more than crawling into the earth. What would the dead tell us? Probably to love more, cherish more, appreciate more. To slow down. If you can’t take it with you, it probably shouldn’t matter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13. Remembering.&lt;/strong&gt; We talk a lot about forgetting. We encourage it sometimes – “Get over it”, “Suck it up”. Don’t forget where you came from…it’s just as important as where you’re going. In fact, the two are so intertwined that you can’t have one without the other. You’re not the yesterday you… but that version did play a role in making you who you are today. Carry the lessons. If you leave anything behind, leave the hurt. But don’t forget what it gave you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14. Learning.&lt;/strong&gt; Books, newspapers, blogs, classrooms, professional development…don’t ever stop stretching yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15. You.&lt;/strong&gt; In order to be the best possible version of yourself, to take care of others, to achieve your goals, you have to spend time taking care of you. Do what you love, surround yourself with people and things that you love, give, take, risk, hurt, even disappoint.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-149444157118761869?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/149444157118761869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/15-things-you-should-never-be-too-busy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/149444157118761869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/149444157118761869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/15-things-you-should-never-be-too-busy.html' title='15 Things You Should Never Be Too Busy For'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-6592404289184699180</id><published>2011-11-13T21:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-13T22:24:06.722-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I'll Always Keep My Heart Open</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Inspired by S.B.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man once said to me that he would never allow himself to be vulnerable in a relationship again. He'd been hurt in the past and lost pieces of himself that he could never get back (or thought he couldn't!). I remember hearing that and feeling sad for him. As much as being vulnerable can sometimes be painful, I've got more than one reason why I will always try to keep my heart open:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Just because someone hurt me in the past, doesn't mean that the next person who comes along will. Or someone right in front of me will. If I make that assumption, I am potentially losing out on something wonderful. Why would I give fear that much power?&lt;br /&gt;2. It's not easy when I admit making mistakes, when I take risks (and sometimes look like a complete fool), when I hurt someone that I love or care about. But if I do these things with an open heart, I'm living my best life, I'm living honestly. I can sleep at night - no regrets.&lt;br /&gt;3. How can I expect others to show themselves to me if I am not willing to do the same?&lt;br /&gt;4. Other people whose hearts are open inspire me.&lt;br /&gt;5. Life is too short...I don't want to miss out, lose out, spend my days thinking about 'what if's. It's now or never -- and that doesn't make it easy, or convenient, or without challenge. But I'm up for it.&lt;br /&gt;6. The times when I stretch, learn and grow most is when I let people in. It's scary...and yes, I sometimes get hurt. Even in that pain though, even in that grey, there is always some kind of beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-6592404289184699180?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/6592404289184699180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/why-ill-always-keep-my-heart-open.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6592404289184699180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6592404289184699180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/why-ill-always-keep-my-heart-open.html' title='Why I&apos;ll Always Keep My Heart Open'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3773783779526559281</id><published>2011-11-11T18:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T19:11:19.044-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Than You Deserved</title><content type='html'>It wasn't time that made me&lt;br /&gt;see you were never&lt;br /&gt;good&amp;nbsp;for me,&lt;br /&gt;it was he, a shiny golden&lt;br /&gt;delicious I snatched from&lt;br /&gt;the counter and bit&lt;br /&gt;into greedily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3773783779526559281?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3773783779526559281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/more-than-you-deserved.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3773783779526559281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3773783779526559281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/more-than-you-deserved.html' title='More Than You Deserved'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3914473933320982655</id><published>2011-11-11T12:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T13:01:46.199-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="messageBody" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;Blanketing many things, tucking in memories, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;making bright&amp;nbsp;what was&amp;nbsp;once dull and grey,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another season crawling around the corner,&lt;br /&gt;another sort of wind creeping into&amp;nbsp;my bones,&lt;br /&gt;stuck on eyelashes like you're stuck on my heart,&lt;br /&gt;melting, disappearing through cracks in pavement,&lt;br /&gt;I brush it off my legs remembering when&lt;br /&gt;you brushed away the hair from my face,&lt;br /&gt;asking me, without words, to tell you&lt;br /&gt;what you longed, always,&amp;nbsp;to hear.&lt;span class="messageBody" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3914473933320982655?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3914473933320982655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/snow.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3914473933320982655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3914473933320982655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/snow.html' title='Snow'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-8944433004377193140</id><published>2011-11-10T20:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T20:38:19.781-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AYHVORDsOXc/Trx8GtSVwTI/AAAAAAAABfM/bPR1PgpLiJs/s1600/225bb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AYHVORDsOXc/Trx8GtSVwTI/AAAAAAAABfM/bPR1PgpLiJs/s400/225bb.jpg" width="221" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in Ottawa last month I saw a young boy run up to this monument...he stopped in front of it and stood there looking up, thinking. Then he traced his hands along it...which seemed an almost sad and loving gesture. 11/11/11/11 -- Lest we forget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-8944433004377193140?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/8944433004377193140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/remembering.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8944433004377193140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8944433004377193140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/remembering.html' title='Remembering...'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AYHVORDsOXc/Trx8GtSVwTI/AAAAAAAABfM/bPR1PgpLiJs/s72-c/225bb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-7487960059254166747</id><published>2011-11-09T17:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T17:36:44.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cups of Grief</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Placeflavoured with memory,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;napkins todab lips and tears,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;imprisonedhands in pockets,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;trying notto let a gesture ask&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;what wordscan’t&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Heart danceshappy paired&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;with knowingthe music stops,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;longing topretend as though the choice&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;is actuallytheirs, able to&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;rewind orprevent what’s coming&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;If it wasjust love it would&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;be simple,but the bill needs&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;paid, moremakes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;itcomplicated, more&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;makes theirstories suddenly not&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;what theyare.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-7487960059254166747?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/7487960059254166747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/cups-of-grief_5754.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7487960059254166747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7487960059254166747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/cups-of-grief_5754.html' title='Cups of Grief'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-8778791701324021812</id><published>2011-11-08T17:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T18:01:45.175-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Inconvenient Love</title><content type='html'>... the kind of love that makes you want to step out of your own skin,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that is as equally frenzied as it is calm,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that challenges who you thought you were,&lt;br /&gt;begs you to believe,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that asks hard questions,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that holds you upright when you want to sink,&lt;br /&gt;allows room for hurt and forgiveness,&lt;br /&gt;keeps you up all night and then wraps you in its warm&lt;br /&gt;arms where you feel safe and, finally, sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... the kind of love that makes you wonder why you never before tried,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love restless in the middle of the night,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that sits, unwilling to give up, on the outskirts of consciousness,&lt;br /&gt;changes your perspective,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that is more stubborn than willing to let go,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that chips the paint and walls you've built,&lt;br /&gt;laughs when you say you are going to leave,&lt;br /&gt;fires your imagination and colours all that was once&lt;br /&gt;dull or mundane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...the kind of love that bursts through every dark corner of your room,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that can sometimes hurt in its haste,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that believes (even when you won't),&lt;br /&gt;assures with a gesture or look,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that undresses other love to show its grey,&lt;br /&gt;the kind of love that teaches as much as it takes,&lt;br /&gt;makes you believe in soaring again,&lt;br /&gt;dares you to step out onto the ledge with no pause,&lt;br /&gt;no hesitation and leap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-8778791701324021812?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/8778791701324021812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/inconvenient-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8778791701324021812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8778791701324021812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/inconvenient-love.html' title='Inconvenient Love'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2441264733608722014</id><published>2011-11-03T22:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T22:33:11.358-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah, Brilliant, Beautiful Life</title><content type='html'>Updated:&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/05/things-ive-learned-am-learning-continue.html"&gt;http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/05/things-ive-learned-am-learning-continue.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2441264733608722014?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2441264733608722014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/ah-brilliant-beautiful-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2441264733608722014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2441264733608722014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/ah-brilliant-beautiful-life.html' title='Ah, Brilliant, Beautiful Life'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-5400792263434859841</id><published>2011-11-01T22:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T22:17:07.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For You (Elaine)</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;My friend loves Bruce Springsteen...I wrote this for her, with a little (or perhaps a lot) inspiration from him. For you Bruce fans out there, you'll know what I mean.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;Music-maker, dancing in the light,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;on fire on an up-bound train,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;tougher than the rest with no&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;long goodbyes, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;no second-rate attempts or tries,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;57 channels and you’re the only&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;one with better days,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;a beautiful reward with much still &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;unwritten in your book&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;of dreams,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;tomorrow never knows what love&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;can do, the last carnival before &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;we all sleep, except you, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;even with sad eyes you are further on&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;up the road than most,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;nothing but an empty sky for &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;you to colour, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;a pathway home if I ever I should&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;fall behind or wander,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;sometimes we all long to&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;crawl inside your head,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;steal from it&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 342.75pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;those words you havea&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;way of sewing together,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;threads of knowing&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;perfect in their release,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;instead it’s easier to wish &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;we were blind,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;caught up in some other time,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;our best never good enough&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;cause we’re not open all night&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;and you aren’t one to get lost in the&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;flood, that spirit in the sky,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;a factory of brilliant disguise&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;ready to offer a spare&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;part to us when&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;we need it, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;I’ll follow you to the bus&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;stop at 82&lt;sup&gt;nd&lt;/sup&gt; street,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;ride top down to Nebraska&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;in a stolen car,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;we all might be a wreck&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;on the highway, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;but never where you are,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;never where you are.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-5400792263434859841?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/5400792263434859841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/for-you-elaine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5400792263434859841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5400792263434859841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/for-you-elaine.html' title='For You (Elaine)'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-5691146520073184010</id><published>2011-10-28T18:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T18:52:45.930-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Refill</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;30-something,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;still obsessed with&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;things from 18,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;girls, trucks,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;making money and&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;living the dream.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;You play pretend with&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;your bills,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;actions indicate you value&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;a woman’s body&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;more than mind,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;yet you wonder as you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;fall asleep&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;why that person has been&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;hard to keep or find.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;You’re the one elusive,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;contradictory with what you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;say you want and do,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;search desperately in the crowd,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;never letting love just love you.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;You criticize, find fault,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;where there’s nothing but&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;what’s real and not vain,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;someone disappoints you,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;and you’d rather shut them out&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;than deal with the pain.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Underneath all those masks,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;far beneath the façade and&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;play,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;is a man who wants to&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;be loved,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;but a man who doesn’t know&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;how to stay.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;She’s waited long enough,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;all that doubt has begun&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;to sink in,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;it’s you she wanted,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;not the boy,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;to open and let in.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Here in this lonely night,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;at this silent hour there’s&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;one decision to make,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;live the brilliant life&amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;you wanted once,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;or continue to fake.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;30-something,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;still obsessed with&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;things from 18,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;one thing I know,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;one thing I’ve learned&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;my friend, is that&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;those things never quite&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;refill the empty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-5691146520073184010?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/5691146520073184010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/refill.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5691146520073184010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5691146520073184010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/11/refill.html' title='Refill'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3173892216768219439</id><published>2011-10-25T22:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T22:34:48.882-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Way Home</title><content type='html'>...rain hit the pavement,&lt;br /&gt;tears hit my face,&lt;br /&gt;years I've been running&lt;br /&gt;but never got away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can let someone go&lt;br /&gt;but it doesn't mean&lt;br /&gt;they'll let go of you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;half-filled glass of wine,&lt;br /&gt;half-filled open heart,&lt;br /&gt;there's no end for what&lt;br /&gt;we never let start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can walk away&lt;br /&gt;but it doesn't mean&lt;br /&gt;love won't walk back in...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I need you' whispered&lt;br /&gt;wordless across a room,&lt;br /&gt;songwriter humming&lt;br /&gt;someone else's tune&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can sit one out&lt;br /&gt;but it doesn't mean&lt;br /&gt;the music won't hear your beat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;timing is all it was,&lt;br /&gt;choices ours to make,&lt;br /&gt;you lived a truth then,&lt;br /&gt;oblivious to the mistake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can recognize a loss&lt;br /&gt;but it doesn't mean&lt;br /&gt;what's lost will recognize you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...rain hit the pavement,&lt;br /&gt;tears flood the wheel&lt;br /&gt;years I've been running&lt;br /&gt;never stopped to feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can ask me to pull over&lt;br /&gt;but it doesn't mean&lt;br /&gt;these brakes aren't rusty&amp;nbsp;or tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I'm so tired.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3173892216768219439?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3173892216768219439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-way-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3173892216768219439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3173892216768219439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-way-home.html' title='Long Way Home'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3289503793060761497</id><published>2011-10-24T19:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T19:22:35.162-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Notebook</title><content type='html'>The most hurtful thing one can do&lt;br /&gt;is leave another dangling&lt;br /&gt;like a question in the air&lt;br /&gt;that you either don't want&lt;br /&gt;to or can't answer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence is a message&lt;br /&gt;louder than what's on&lt;br /&gt;the machine,&lt;br /&gt;you can't misinterpret nothing&lt;br /&gt;or make it be something&lt;br /&gt;that it is not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this white noise won't&lt;br /&gt;drown out a conversation&lt;br /&gt;we never had,&lt;br /&gt;one where you told me&lt;br /&gt;there would never be&lt;br /&gt;anyone else&lt;br /&gt;and let me go,&lt;br /&gt;firm with your period&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was&amp;nbsp;a momentary comma,&lt;br /&gt;a happy exclamation mark,&lt;br /&gt;now nothing but leftovers of&lt;br /&gt;someone's dirty eraser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone but you seems to&lt;br /&gt;know that&lt;br /&gt;you can still see, even&lt;br /&gt;faintly, smudges that once&lt;br /&gt;filled the&amp;nbsp;page.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3289503793060761497?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3289503793060761497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/notebook.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3289503793060761497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3289503793060761497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/notebook.html' title='The Notebook'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4261102620163410658</id><published>2011-10-24T18:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T18:55:54.109-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Complete is the way tomorrow feels,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;an imagined future that welcomes&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;even if the rest of the world might not&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;It’s eyes taste like happiness,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;it’s tongue shimmers like waves on&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;a lake we might slip into – moon high&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;and night air still&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;It lets me rest my head on its shoulders,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;wraps itself around my body like a&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;smitten lover,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;whispers that there is always a way&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;through the door,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;even when it’s been closed shut&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;and all is silent&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;I long to touch it, half afraid that&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;it might pop like a bubble,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;the other half hungry and&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;anxious to devour like a moist&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;chocolate cake&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;(oh, I’d give anything to have you&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;melt between teeth)&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;I could never see it before,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;thought perhaps it didn’t exist,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;believed that when we parted&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;our paths wouldn’t twist&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;and wind around each other later&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;like vines reaching, gulping for air&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;It beckons with tender hand,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;assures with kind look,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;asks me to believe in a story&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;I've never heard,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;a recipe I was asked to follow and&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;never cook&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;It’s kiss makes dizzy,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;it’s voice strums my insides&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;like a well-loved guitar,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;waiting for it now seems&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;less of a burden,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;a chance to organize the filing&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;cabinet in my head,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;drawers to empty and fill,&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;half-written poems to&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"&gt;let go of and loose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4261102620163410658?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4261102620163410658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/untitled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4261102620163410658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4261102620163410658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-7837317434157845357</id><published>2011-10-23T19:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T19:18:30.704-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Got Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yBhqqW-gcI8/TqSeLhbrLHI/AAAAAAAABdA/buJs56myYK8/s1600/Fav+Jen+and+Darren%2527s+Wedding+467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yBhqqW-gcI8/TqSeLhbrLHI/AAAAAAAABdA/buJs56myYK8/s320/Fav+Jen+and+Darren%2527s+Wedding+467.JPG" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;One foot down the aisle,&lt;br /&gt;glance back with heart&lt;br /&gt;half out the door,&lt;br /&gt;the question isn't whether&lt;br /&gt;or not she loves him,&lt;br /&gt;but if the pull backwards&lt;br /&gt;is stronger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veil covers up more&lt;br /&gt;than just a pretty face,&lt;br /&gt;a past he never knew,&lt;br /&gt;twenty-eight steps all&lt;br /&gt;it will take, oblivious&lt;br /&gt;to the blue Ford truck&lt;br /&gt;idle outside the church&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we see&lt;br /&gt;what's coming and&lt;br /&gt;can't stop it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we know&lt;br /&gt;what we don't&lt;br /&gt;want to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bouquet of Gerberas&lt;br /&gt;tossed carelessly on&lt;br /&gt;the steps,&lt;br /&gt;discarded like their future:&lt;br /&gt;ever-after with no&lt;br /&gt;happy end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-7837317434157845357?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/7837317434157845357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/got-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7837317434157845357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7837317434157845357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/got-away.html' title='Got Away'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yBhqqW-gcI8/TqSeLhbrLHI/AAAAAAAABdA/buJs56myYK8/s72-c/Fav+Jen+and+Darren%2527s+Wedding+467.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-7119347192725921378</id><published>2011-10-23T12:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T12:40:47.175-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In Black and White</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WTQc1vDCp-g/TqRDIjej8_I/AAAAAAAABcM/u4bNmJuxlUM/s1600/Lu+083_B%2526w_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WTQc1vDCp-g/TqRDIjej8_I/AAAAAAAABcM/u4bNmJuxlUM/s400/Lu+083_B%2526w_4.jpg" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8bAbDspC6ZQ/TqRDJDf-S_I/AAAAAAAABcQ/w8hitwOkdnI/s1600/Lu+290_B%2526w_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8bAbDspC6ZQ/TqRDJDf-S_I/AAAAAAAABcQ/w8hitwOkdnI/s400/Lu+290_B%2526w_4.jpg" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-idUKV377HMQ/TqRDJamw19I/AAAAAAAABcY/gb0b6OqfuRo/s1600/Lu+330_B%2526w_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-idUKV377HMQ/TqRDJamw19I/AAAAAAAABcY/gb0b6OqfuRo/s400/Lu+330_B%2526w_4.jpg" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YurrR0uXQKY/TqRDJpA-roI/AAAAAAAABcc/bTnFryxihIw/s1600/Lu+398_B%2526w_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YurrR0uXQKY/TqRDJpA-roI/AAAAAAAABcc/bTnFryxihIw/s400/Lu+398_B%2526w_4.jpg" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JzlQ1Bjwkhg/TqRDRkba6TI/AAAAAAAABcw/87-mwpG1brw/s1600/Lu+428_B%2526w_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="331" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JzlQ1Bjwkhg/TqRDRkba6TI/AAAAAAAABcw/87-mwpG1brw/s400/Lu+428_B%2526w_4.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f4VQhiTO79c/TqRDR3GiX-I/AAAAAAAABc0/097c5U69nfw/s1600/Lu+484_B%2526w_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f4VQhiTO79c/TqRDR3GiX-I/AAAAAAAABc0/097c5U69nfw/s320/Lu+484_B%2526w_4.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;More photos from yesterday's shoot!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-7119347192725921378?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/7119347192725921378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/in-black-and-white.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7119347192725921378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7119347192725921378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/in-black-and-white.html' title='In Black and White'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WTQc1vDCp-g/TqRDIjej8_I/AAAAAAAABcM/u4bNmJuxlUM/s72-c/Lu+083_B%2526w_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4005024219896260116</id><published>2011-10-23T11:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T11:50:33.358-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stunning in October</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jooieRHsXwc/TqQ1BdbmCWI/AAAAAAAABZo/UyQmZCXuWU4/s1600/Lu+211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jooieRHsXwc/TqQ1BdbmCWI/AAAAAAAABZo/UyQmZCXuWU4/s400/Lu+211.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nQ8YIStMXBk/TqQ1G17ayMI/AAAAAAAABZw/Y9ZALP7T75M/s1600/Lu+361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nQ8YIStMXBk/TqQ1G17ayMI/AAAAAAAABZw/Y9ZALP7T75M/s400/Lu+361.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZerxCx2odEc/TqQ1N2JJSDI/AAAAAAAABZ4/Yr8vIRvNjxw/s1600/Lu+415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZerxCx2odEc/TqQ1N2JJSDI/AAAAAAAABZ4/Yr8vIRvNjxw/s400/Lu+415.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V9YzFHRjbEQ/TqQ1YRLX01I/AAAAAAAABaA/dvUSNpwzCSA/s1600/Lu+450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V9YzFHRjbEQ/TqQ1YRLX01I/AAAAAAAABaA/dvUSNpwzCSA/s400/Lu+450.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aiJizThc_20/TqQ1eZwbIMI/AAAAAAAABaI/YvGSla-_U4I/s1600/Lu+524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aiJizThc_20/TqQ1eZwbIMI/AAAAAAAABaI/YvGSla-_U4I/s400/Lu+524.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Amazing fall photo shoot! I love my city's downtown - so many great places to snap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4005024219896260116?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4005024219896260116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/stunning-in-october.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4005024219896260116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4005024219896260116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/stunning-in-october.html' title='Stunning in October'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jooieRHsXwc/TqQ1BdbmCWI/AAAAAAAABZo/UyQmZCXuWU4/s72-c/Lu+211.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4754410786726976506</id><published>2011-10-21T17:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T17:44:22.674-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When's the Last Time You...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Said, “Thanks”.&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Were really happy?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Had breakfast in bed?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Volunteered time in your community?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Kissed like you meant it – like it could be your last one?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Wrote a letter and mailed it?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Sang at the top of your lungs?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Spent the entire day outside?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Sat around a campfire with good friends?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Stayed up until 4 a.m. enjoying a glass of wine and someone else’s company?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Laughed so hard your belly hurt?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Surprised someone you love with something they love?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Gave money to charity?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Called in sick and spent the day snuggled up with your partner?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Danced until your feet hurt?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Had a movie-marathon weekend?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Told someone how you really feel?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Spent the afternoon cooking in the kitchen?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Smiled at a stranger?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Gave yourself a pat on the back?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Acted like a fool for love?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Asked someone for forgiveness?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Called an old friend?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Listened to a great local band?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Kept a promise?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Forgave yourself?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Looked through old photo albums?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Dropped a penny in a water fountain and made a wish?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Dug your toes into the sand?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Got up and decided to take a day trip somewhere local?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Showed up at someone’s door unexpected?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Took the time to do something you love?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Read a newspaper cover to back?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Enjoyed a sunrise or sunset?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Followed your heart instead of your head?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Cleaned out your closet?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Sat by a waterfall or let your legs dangle at the end of a dock?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Listened, really listened, to someone else?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Gave (or got) a really good hug?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Took food to a local shelter?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Said “Yes” when the cashier asked if you wanted to make a donation?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Left someone a generous tip?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Played board games all night with friends?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Spent an entire day without electronics?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Had a cup of tea with a good friend?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Let yourself be vulnerable?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Opened your heart to unexpected things?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Allowed yourself to cry?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Admitted you need support?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Chased after something you’ve wanted your whole life?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Looked up at the stars?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Let yourself relax?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Let go of something you’ve been hanging onto?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Had a conversation with silence?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Built something with your hands?&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Symbol;"&gt;·&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Read a really good book?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4754410786726976506?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4754410786726976506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/whens-last-time-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4754410786726976506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4754410786726976506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/whens-last-time-you.html' title='When&apos;s the Last Time You...'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-6217496185472386888</id><published>2011-10-19T22:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T22:38:38.629-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Wait for the Funeral...</title><content type='html'>I've been making it a priority lately to tell others how I feel. I don't want to be someone who lives with regrets, who stands at a grave and thinks: "I should have said..." I want people to know what they mean to me, how they've changed my life, in what ways they matter to me, now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E-mails, letters in the mail, long overdue phone calls, in-person chats over tea...sometimes it takes a bit of courage, sometimes I feel a little vulnerable, sometimes what I have to say isn't as important to someone else as it is important to me, but I'm saying it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I love you", "I'm sorry", "You've inspired me...", "I am grateful for", "I appreciate", "Thank you"...these are words that are bringing colour to my life and helping me to live it more fully.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Words have the power to hurt and wound, oppress and silence, but they can also help to facilitate beautiful change in ourselves, in our relationships and in others.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Even if your hands are shaking&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;and your faith is broken,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;even as the eyes are closing&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;do it with a heart wide open...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;say what you need to say...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;...in the end it's better to say too much,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;than to never say what you need to say." &amp;nbsp;-- John Mayer&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-6217496185472386888?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/6217496185472386888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/dont-wait-for-funeral.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6217496185472386888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6217496185472386888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/dont-wait-for-funeral.html' title='Don&apos;t Wait for the Funeral...'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-5278232659686544964</id><published>2011-10-15T16:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-15T16:36:32.297-04:00</updated><title type='text'>401 East</title><content type='html'>Highway of Heroes,&lt;br /&gt;each of us coming&lt;br /&gt;two and from,&lt;br /&gt;some with new&lt;br /&gt;beginnings,&lt;br /&gt;others things not&lt;br /&gt;quite done,&lt;br /&gt;whether reckless&lt;br /&gt;and fast,&lt;br /&gt;careful and slow,&lt;br /&gt;none of us&lt;br /&gt;are certain&lt;br /&gt;how things will go,&lt;br /&gt;we map out&lt;br /&gt;our routes,&lt;br /&gt;directions to&lt;br /&gt;follow,&lt;br /&gt;carry with us&lt;br /&gt;separate&amp;nbsp;griefs,&lt;br /&gt;happiness and&lt;br /&gt;sorrow,&lt;br /&gt;no matter our&lt;br /&gt;journey,&lt;br /&gt;destination,&lt;br /&gt;adventure,&lt;br /&gt;eventually we all&lt;br /&gt;pause,&lt;br /&gt;grateful and&lt;br /&gt;remember,&lt;br /&gt;eventually we all&lt;br /&gt;pause,&lt;br /&gt;grateful and&lt;br /&gt;remember,&lt;br /&gt;Highway of Heroes,&lt;br /&gt;each of us&lt;br /&gt;travelling&lt;br /&gt;to and away,&lt;br /&gt;tired from our&lt;br /&gt;heartaches, tired&lt;br /&gt;from the day,&lt;br /&gt;we look for signs,&lt;br /&gt;reasons to stop&lt;br /&gt;and continue,&lt;br /&gt;get lost in ourselves&lt;br /&gt;stuck on&amp;nbsp;what we've&lt;br /&gt;been through,&lt;br /&gt;no matter our&lt;br /&gt;mistakes -&lt;br /&gt;beautiful or&lt;br /&gt;self-centred,&lt;br /&gt;eventually we all&lt;br /&gt;pause,&lt;br /&gt;grateful and&lt;br /&gt;remember,&lt;br /&gt;eventually we all&lt;br /&gt;pause,&lt;br /&gt;grateful and&lt;br /&gt;remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-5278232659686544964?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/5278232659686544964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/401-east.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5278232659686544964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5278232659686544964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/401-east.html' title='401 East'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2097511345174356071</id><published>2011-10-15T15:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-15T15:31:24.269-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Holding On Vs. Letting Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;How do you know when it's time?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To keep that grip:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-when every fibre of your being tells you that walking away would be a mistake you’ll regret for the rest of your life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;-when what you’re clinging to gives you value, nourishment or good lessons of some kind&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;-when you haven’t given something your all and want to&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;-when you’re just not ready&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To open your hands and let it loose:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;-if you’re suffocating the thing (or person) that you’re holding onto&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;-when you keep repeating patterns, floating in circles&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;-if you feel like you’ve given all of yourself to something or someone and a) it’s actually hurting you; or, b) it’s hurting someone else&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;-when you feel like you can let it be as it is and was… and leave it behind, permanently&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2097511345174356071?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2097511345174356071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/holding-on-vs-letting-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2097511345174356071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2097511345174356071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/holding-on-vs-letting-go.html' title='Holding On Vs. Letting Go'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-264829837656605909</id><published>2011-10-15T15:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-15T16:35:27.295-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone</title><content type='html'>He misses the crunch of chip,&lt;br /&gt;salt covering her lips,&lt;br /&gt;he wanted to lick it off once,&lt;br /&gt;but she wanted to watch&lt;br /&gt;the latest funny man on&lt;br /&gt;cable,&lt;br /&gt;there was the faint smell&lt;br /&gt;of uncertainty in the air,&lt;br /&gt;a space between them no&lt;br /&gt;longer than an arms length,&lt;br /&gt;though feeling as wide as the&lt;br /&gt;top of&lt;br /&gt;a&amp;nbsp;mountain he once&lt;br /&gt;hugged in&amp;nbsp;Europe,&lt;br /&gt;"I'm tired," she said,&lt;br /&gt;and he couldn't figure out&lt;br /&gt;if it was of the day or&lt;br /&gt;of him,&lt;br /&gt;they were both always like that:&lt;br /&gt;tossing out words&lt;br /&gt;neither could tell if&lt;br /&gt;careless or carefully&lt;br /&gt;chosen,&lt;br /&gt;leaving each other to guess if&lt;br /&gt;the intent was to&lt;br /&gt;simply be honest or wound.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-264829837656605909?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/264829837656605909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/gone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/264829837656605909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/264829837656605909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/gone.html' title='Gone'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-8155912208047415613</id><published>2011-10-13T21:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T20:33:16.944-05:00</updated><title type='text'>El-e-phan-t Sh-o-es</title><content type='html'>Deliciously dizzy,&lt;br /&gt;you make me want&lt;br /&gt;to crawl outside of&lt;br /&gt;skin, shed all but&lt;br /&gt;last layer, leave&lt;br /&gt;for you to peel away,&lt;br /&gt;hungry, slowly,&lt;br /&gt;never anxious to&lt;br /&gt;spoil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your smile&lt;br /&gt;makes me face-plant on&lt;br /&gt;pavement, spill out&lt;br /&gt;onto floor, there,&lt;br /&gt;in full view, unafraid,&lt;br /&gt;not quick to cover up,&lt;br /&gt;hide even the worst&lt;br /&gt;parts of myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lack of pretending&lt;br /&gt;is always a relief,&lt;br /&gt;welcome escape&lt;br /&gt;from lives lived separate,&lt;br /&gt;unreachable in current&lt;br /&gt;view,&lt;br /&gt;I want to lock you in&lt;br /&gt;a closet or back room:&lt;br /&gt;five minutes of wall and&lt;br /&gt;parting and tongue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;***&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;inspired by ...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-8155912208047415613?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/8155912208047415613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/el-e-phan-t-sh-o-es.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8155912208047415613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8155912208047415613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/el-e-phan-t-sh-o-es.html' title='El-e-phan-t Sh-o-es'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4432035746120815689</id><published>2011-10-12T21:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T21:11:41.354-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ruins</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vxhGBmGPFVU/TpY4xTDblfI/AAAAAAAABZE/AaYI1ZyNJms/s1600/371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vxhGBmGPFVU/TpY4xTDblfI/AAAAAAAABZE/AaYI1ZyNJms/s400/371.JPG" width="270" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If you look through the ruins, there is always something good waiting on the other side.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4432035746120815689?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4432035746120815689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/ruins.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4432035746120815689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4432035746120815689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/ruins.html' title='Ruins'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vxhGBmGPFVU/TpY4xTDblfI/AAAAAAAABZE/AaYI1ZyNJms/s72-c/371.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3695919193633195467</id><published>2011-10-11T13:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-11T13:50:19.365-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall Colours</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JexdYX4O5_0/TpR_-yVA5qI/AAAAAAAABYk/Ap1-1p8ECCw/s1600/083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JexdYX4O5_0/TpR_-yVA5qI/AAAAAAAABYk/Ap1-1p8ECCw/s400/083.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z4KDevS6Byw/TpSAKLQhxjI/AAAAAAAABYs/lqKdybrIMjE/s1600/270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z4KDevS6Byw/TpSAKLQhxjI/AAAAAAAABYs/lqKdybrIMjE/s400/270.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TFLkXBWgZKs/TpSAVdoZThI/AAAAAAAABY0/hxmiDPmif5s/s1600/538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TFLkXBWgZKs/TpSAVdoZThI/AAAAAAAABY0/hxmiDPmif5s/s400/538.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7CPnx3xJy5Q/TpSAfhlecgI/AAAAAAAABY8/jaZC8Iau1o4/s1600/557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7CPnx3xJy5Q/TpSAfhlecgI/AAAAAAAABY8/jaZC8Iau1o4/s400/557.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Amazing fall photo shoot with a gorgeous and talented woman!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3695919193633195467?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3695919193633195467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-colours.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3695919193633195467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3695919193633195467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-colours.html' title='Fall Colours'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JexdYX4O5_0/TpR_-yVA5qI/AAAAAAAABYk/Ap1-1p8ECCw/s72-c/083.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-1353083869215457887</id><published>2011-10-11T13:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-11T13:27:08.064-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back Corner Booth</title><content type='html'>I`ve decided to leave you&lt;br /&gt;where I found you:&lt;br /&gt;on the edge of my plate,&lt;br /&gt;the outskirts of my consciousness,&lt;br /&gt;in an apartment that saw&lt;br /&gt;only the curves of a girl,&lt;br /&gt;not yet ready, not yet sure if&lt;br /&gt;she should ask for the bill or&lt;br /&gt;pull her chair in closer to the&lt;br /&gt;table and listen,&lt;br /&gt;there I can let you be,&lt;br /&gt;untouched, colouring my&lt;br /&gt;dish with many things,&lt;br /&gt;calm in your absence,&lt;br /&gt;recognizing that it`s not up&lt;br /&gt;to me to decide when you&lt;br /&gt;get taken away, not up&lt;br /&gt;to me to determine if&lt;br /&gt;you`ll ever fill me again,&lt;br /&gt;and even as the&lt;br /&gt;restaurant empties,&lt;br /&gt;even as the hunger subsides,&lt;br /&gt;I neither wait nor walk away&lt;br /&gt;out into the night,&lt;br /&gt;content just to sit here,&lt;br /&gt;letting go of all these questions,&lt;br /&gt;courting the silence and&lt;br /&gt;remembering all that was and&lt;br /&gt;disappeared&lt;br /&gt;in the in-between.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-1353083869215457887?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/1353083869215457887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/back-corner-booth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1353083869215457887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1353083869215457887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/back-corner-booth.html' title='Back Corner Booth'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-1773670013101527398</id><published>2011-10-11T07:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-11T13:56:30.240-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Friends with Grief</title><content type='html'>A kick behind your knees,&lt;br /&gt;hits you suddenly, unexpectedly,&lt;br /&gt;feels like a heavy weight on your&lt;br /&gt;chest, an ache that won’t go away&lt;br /&gt;no matter how you try to distract&lt;br /&gt;yourself, no matter how you try&lt;br /&gt;to lose yourself, a hand clawing&lt;br /&gt;at you from the shadows,&lt;br /&gt;drawing you in, making you remember &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might think you have moved on&lt;br /&gt;but a song or a smell says you have &lt;br /&gt;done anything but, mocks you for believing&lt;br /&gt;that it would be that easy, that you bought into&lt;br /&gt;all of that crap about time healing all wounds,&lt;br /&gt;they’re still there – itching and irritated under &lt;br /&gt;the bandage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If only you could see them one&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;more time&lt;/em&gt;, you think,&lt;em&gt; if only you could say &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;what you should have&lt;/em&gt;, you beg, but if time &lt;br /&gt;gave them back…would you do anything &lt;br /&gt;more than just cower?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She hid under him, hurt and reeling,&lt;br /&gt;She got lost in him, wanting to forget&amp;nbsp;and longing,&lt;br /&gt;when he finally moved away and off&lt;br /&gt;all she could see was you,waiting like you’ve &lt;br /&gt;always been, too tired to ask why she left it so late,&lt;br /&gt;too confused to ask why she didn’t say what she wanted &lt;br /&gt;to say, too angry to swallow pride and let in,&lt;br /&gt;and all she could tell you, all she could muster to &lt;br /&gt;the ghost of you was: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You split open my heart.” &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-1773670013101527398?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/1773670013101527398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/making-friends-with-grief.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1773670013101527398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1773670013101527398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/10/making-friends-with-grief.html' title='Making Friends with Grief'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-7768889698888196224</id><published>2011-09-26T20:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T08:15:58.205-04:00</updated><title type='text'>29 Memories Stitched in Colour</title><content type='html'>My grandmother has made me some beautiful quilts, one of which I dug out the other day and put on my bed. The colours are so vibrant, the warmth so comforting. I stood there one morning, half-dressed, looking at the quilt and thought about what my life might look like if someone stitched it onto fabric. What memories or moments would stand out, what shades and hues someone might get lost in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm turning 29 in a few days. In celebration of that, I thought I would post 29 of my favourite memories (just a small sampling, of course!). Ones that, patched together, make me who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sneaking into the birthing unit and holding my niece for the first time. Then having my best friend wipe away my happy tears.&lt;br /&gt;2. Standing at the top of a mountain with a breast cancer survivor, who, with a little encouragement, was able to push herself that extra twenty minutes to the top and knock something off of her bucket list.&lt;br /&gt;3. Playing mud football with my friend in university. We were soaked and dirty - it was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;4. Hanging upside-down with a roommate and talking until 4 a.m. (This paired with many hikes to the local waterfalls where we would sit and chat for hours.)&lt;br /&gt;5. Watching that same roommate come down the aisle in a gorgeous gown and marry her best friend.&lt;br /&gt;6. Many lunches with a former colleague and friend under a beautiful "African" tree. There are certain people you are supposed to meet during your life - she is one of them.&lt;br /&gt;7. A kiss I received that literally, literally made me dizzy. I felt like I was floating and might face plant right there in the woods.&lt;br /&gt;8. Summers at the cottage as a kid - swims around the bay, canoeing, sitting on the edge of the dock wrapped in blankets.&lt;br /&gt;9. Laying in bed with a good friend at a cottage after everyone had gone to sleep and listening to him tell ghost stories. I felt like we were two old souls stealing a moment to catch up.&lt;br /&gt;10. Endless discussions before and after class with a group of women I will never, ever forget.&lt;br /&gt;11. Thursday nights at Fionn's in the Bay - music, dancing - it always feels like Thursdays. (That and our Luaus!)&lt;br /&gt;12. Floating in waves with a friend in the Caribbean - we were laughing so hard I thought I might swallow the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;13. A night out in Halifax - the whole world felt alive.&lt;br /&gt;14. My first plane ride - when I saw the clouds, I had a tear or two. I just felt so lucky for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;15. Sunday night dinners with family - there are many of them that stand out.&lt;br /&gt;16. A week in Muskoka with my best friend - we rode a bicycle on the water - it was awesome!&lt;br /&gt;17. Christmas eve years ago - singing carols, looking around and seeing an old friend I hadn't in years.&lt;br /&gt;18. Morning chats with my former boss - I miss those dearly. He meant more to me than he will ever know - was one of those people who accepted me and let me be me...good and hangry (hungry = angry).&lt;br /&gt;19. Sneaking into an old friend's wedding and watching him say, "I do." His wedding party was stacked full of a group of guys I hung out with as a teenager...seeing them stand there, all grown up, it made me so proud.&lt;br /&gt;20. My grandfather publishing my first book. It was the sweetest, most thoughtful gesture...a wonderful surprise.&lt;br /&gt;21. Hours spent editing photos. Love, love, love discovering a few gems out of the pile.&lt;br /&gt;22. Weekend escapes to my friend's place up north. We ate, we drank, we giggled, we talked about nothing and everything.&lt;br /&gt;23. Dragging my grandmother to ask someone I once dated for, "A second chance". (Who does that? ha ha! Oh, grans giggled!) Who knew that years later, he'd even give me a third.&lt;br /&gt;24. Recent trip to NY state - drinking wine with family, laughing hysterically, feeling blessed to have so many supportive, kind, loving people in my life.&lt;br /&gt;25. Making a music video with my mom..."Isn't it ironic? Don't you think?" - that's all I will say about that one! hee hee. (My mother is awesome.)&lt;br /&gt;26. Organizing "Under the Streetlamp" with a good friend - a night of poetry and prose by local amateurs and closet writers. More than 100 people showed and it was the first time I ever read my creative work out loud.&lt;br /&gt;27. Playing "What time is it Mr. Wolf" with my dad as a kid. Or having lunches in the paddle boat. Or playing baseball with an ugly, plastic pink bat.&lt;br /&gt;28. Dancing at friends' weddings - there is something about seeing a room full of people gathered in honour of two. And everyone on the dance floor - young, old, friends, family... so happy, so full of love.&lt;br /&gt;29. Floor hockey nights at youth group as a teen. I was one of few girls, but I loved that the guys treated me like I was one of them (until I grew boobs of course, then everything changed!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(To those who find themselves, or a piece of themselves in this post, thank you.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-7768889698888196224?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/7768889698888196224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/29-memories-stitched-in-colour.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7768889698888196224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7768889698888196224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/29-memories-stitched-in-colour.html' title='29 Memories Stitched in Colour'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-7256666782161921862</id><published>2011-09-24T15:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T15:45:50.672-04:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Reasons Why You Should Cut Yourself Some Slack</title><content type='html'>1. No one is perfect - friends and family who care don't expect you to be.&lt;br /&gt;2. We all make mistakes - it's what we do with the lessons that count.&lt;br /&gt;3. You're allowed to change your mind - sometimes you want something and then realize, suddenly, that you don't; other times you don't want something and then realize, unexpectedly, that you do. Just be clear to others once you do figure things out; leave no room for interpretation and unintentional hurt.&lt;br /&gt;4. We all fail - it's up to you to decide whether or not you should try again or move on.&lt;br /&gt;5. Who you were in the past doesn't necessarily define who you are going to become - this world is full of second chances, sometimes even wonderful thirds.&lt;br /&gt;6. You're allowed to have a bad day, a bad week, a bad month, a bad year even - maybe you made some poor choices, maybe life just cut you down, maybe you've been disappointed by others, maybe you feel lost or alone for no real reason at all. The first step to turning your bad day or year into good is acknowledging how you feel and reaffirming what you want. Forgive yourself, forgive others, and know that there is only one place to go when you reach the bottom: up.&lt;br /&gt;7. We all get busy and forget about what's important - it's easy to get caught up in the "now" and disregard everything or everyone else. Gently remind yourself of what, and who, you should refocus on. Even a quick hello or cup of tea can mend a rift.&lt;br /&gt;8. We've all looked in the mirror and cringed too - and I don't just mean at our physical appearance. Be nicer to yourself...you deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;9. Miscommunication gets the best of all of us - don't focus on what went wrong, concentrate on how to make it right. And if you want to fix a fight, make sure you approach the other person from a place of love, not resentment. Bitterness only fuels bitterness.&lt;br /&gt;10. You did or need to do what's right for you - even if it disappoints others. In the end, the people you want to surround yourself with are the ones who might not agree with your decision(s) but will support you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-7256666782161921862?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/7256666782161921862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/10-reasons-why-you-should-cut-yourself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7256666782161921862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7256666782161921862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/10-reasons-why-you-should-cut-yourself.html' title='10 Reasons Why You Should Cut Yourself Some Slack'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-8969495626522182741</id><published>2011-09-23T23:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T23:01:04.401-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Other</title><content type='html'>If my older self&lt;br /&gt;could meet&lt;br /&gt;your younger you,&lt;br /&gt;I'd suggest&lt;br /&gt;we meet again&lt;br /&gt;somewhere&lt;br /&gt;in the middle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-8969495626522182741?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/8969495626522182741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/other.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8969495626522182741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/8969495626522182741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/other.html' title='Other'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3603450105039969579</id><published>2011-09-20T21:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T13:48:08.801-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bottom of the Cup (The Musician)</title><content type='html'>I thought I saw a glimpse of the real you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;a man I could love underneath,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;but instead I was fooled by the role&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you like to slip into every once in a while,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;as if to prove that you could be,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if only you tried.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your tickle trunk is full of many things,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but the bottom is hollow and empty,&lt;br /&gt;strings sullen and guitar well worn from&lt;br /&gt;singing everybody else's lines,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and though I should feel sorry for myself,&lt;br /&gt;(her)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am only really sad for you,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;author of your own script, song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wrought with tragedy now I see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;playing out for a reason.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3603450105039969579?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3603450105039969579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/bottom-of-cup.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3603450105039969579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3603450105039969579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/bottom-of-cup.html' title='Bottom of the Cup (The Musician)'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-5735309318754424883</id><published>2011-09-19T07:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T21:58:32.127-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Beauty</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div 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center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YVivnS1fe8g/TnYQnwCEg1I/AAAAAAAABTM/Cs0htfD7rf8/s1600/Dove+Day+569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YVivnS1fe8g/TnYQnwCEg1I/AAAAAAAABTM/Cs0htfD7rf8/s400/Dove+Day+569.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HciQ8_litEA/TnYQ0lAhEbI/AAAAAAAABTQ/aMht9Eea_Fs/s1600/Dove+Day+752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HciQ8_litEA/TnYQ0lAhEbI/AAAAAAAABTQ/aMht9Eea_Fs/s400/Dove+Day+752.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9owLELGcCXk/TnYRGrrx_ZI/AAAAAAAABTY/hI7b5hB4KN8/s1600/Dove+Day+867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9owLELGcCXk/TnYRGrrx_ZI/AAAAAAAABTY/hI7b5hB4KN8/s400/Dove+Day+867.JPG" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lFrnP9hdxOk/TnYSSX3j0WI/AAAAAAAABTc/_2TYuXPEvNc/s1600/Dove+Day+497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="280" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lFrnP9hdxOk/TnYSSX3j0WI/AAAAAAAABTc/_2TYuXPEvNc/s400/Dove+Day+497.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;On Saturday morning, a few incredible women I know gathered to ask two key questions: 1) What is real beauty? 2) Who defines it?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We had a morning full of giggles and photos, with proceeds going toward workshops to boost young women and girls' self-esteem.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A lot of people stopped to ask what we were doing and why.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Unfortunately, ads we see every day still perpetuate stereotypes (for both women and men).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Think about who is beautiful in your life and what makes them so. I bet you it's not just about appearances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Thanks to &lt;a href="https://www.facebook.com/GeorgiaBlooms"&gt;Georgia Blooms&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;for lending us the fabulous hair pieces - and to all of the gorgeous women who came out with their energy and spirit.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-5735309318754424883?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/5735309318754424883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/real-beauty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5735309318754424883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5735309318754424883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/real-beauty.html' title='Real Beauty'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DATNwq1u26Q/TnXrbm-wA7I/AAAAAAAABSI/BWnN8LDiEJM/s72-c/Dove+Day+599.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-7705939467574691076</id><published>2011-09-18T20:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T20:22:46.089-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>This year I was surprised to figure out that "heartache" is actually that - your heart aching, physically hurting. It's never happened to me before. Sure, I've been heartbroken ...and maybe it's manifested itself in the form of an upset stomach, longing or waterfalls of tears, but never as a gaping hole in my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I suppose that's how I know that what I lost was real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once in a while, I still feel that ache - a certain memory or smell threatens to suffocate me. Or I crumble just a bit when I see or hear about this person with someone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a moment today where I felt that physical ache, the knot around my heart squeezing. But instead of trying to push it away, instead of trying to tell myself, "Get over it!", I found myself feeling grateful.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, I wasn't expecting love. It came a bit out of no where and caught me by surprise. It pushed me and changed me in ways that I never would have anticipated. It forced me to re-think about what I wanted in a partner, to take ownership for behaviours and insecurities that never needed to be there. It knocked me over and as it left me said, "The only thing I ever asked you to do was believe." (Believe, sadly, I hadn't.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soon, it will be time to sew up this ache. To stretch it out like one would a pulled muscle, until it rights itself and is ready for what's next. But for now I sit with it...let it tug gently at me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aside from friendship, love is probably the best human experience we can have. It finds and fills crevices within us that we never knew were at reach, asks us to show ourselves even when our impulse is to hide, it allows us to recognize and internalize the goodness someone else sees.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's allowed me to be able to finally, finally let go - of a lot of things.&amp;nbsp;And you want to know what? It sure is a beautiful world when open ourselves up and fly.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-7705939467574691076?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/7705939467574691076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/untitled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7705939467574691076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7705939467574691076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-5100780967243221263</id><published>2011-09-18T15:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T15:35:59.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is What You Want, What's Best?</title><content type='html'>Why you should always be willing to venture off course, throw out your list, change your mind, and be flexible with your goals (all important life and love lessons I learned this year):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sometimes what you think you want, isn't actually what will end up making you happy.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On paper something can sound great, but in reality...it might not be what will end up being important to you.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you think narrowly or are so set in your own ways, there is never room to let someone else or something else in.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sometimes the plans you have are interrupted by the plans life has for you.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's great to have something to work toward or aspire to, but you can get so wrapped up in where you want your life to go, what you want to be, that you miss out on what's standing right in front of you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To get one thing, you might lose out on many other wonderful things.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you're closed, so is the rest of the world. If you're open, so are doors of opportunity.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;"To dare is to lose one's footing momentarily. To not dare is to lose oneself." - Kierkegaard&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-5100780967243221263?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/5100780967243221263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/is-what-you-want-whats-best.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5100780967243221263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5100780967243221263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/is-what-you-want-whats-best.html' title='Is What You Want, What&apos;s Best?'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3799483164049139830</id><published>2011-09-17T21:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T11:56:50.296-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Standing Outside of Herself</title><content type='html'>She's waited for him,&lt;br /&gt;(and we've bashed our heads against the brick,&lt;br /&gt;wishing she could see,&lt;br /&gt;wanting him to give her back to us)&lt;br /&gt;she's dangled, believed in&lt;br /&gt;something she glimpsed in a&lt;br /&gt;long-ago moment,&lt;br /&gt;but the more time unravels,&lt;br /&gt;the more&amp;nbsp;doubt churns below the surface&lt;br /&gt;where she sank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's chiselled, chisels, away,&lt;br /&gt;cruelly, at her heart&lt;br /&gt;instead of breaking it clean&lt;br /&gt;in two,&lt;br /&gt;(for the record: something she never&lt;br /&gt;did or would do),&lt;br /&gt;purposefully gathered her up and&lt;br /&gt;thrown her back in, taking pleasure from&lt;br /&gt;watching her recede and&lt;br /&gt;return like the tide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's drowned beautifully though,&lt;br /&gt;with grace, even,&lt;br /&gt;forgiven him for his cruelty when&lt;br /&gt;he's offered his hand to pull her out,&lt;br /&gt;not sure about what he wants with her,&lt;br /&gt;(though we have been presenting&lt;br /&gt;evidence - other women, silence,&lt;br /&gt;painful ignoring - that points to anything,&lt;br /&gt;anything but love).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She never told him her secret,&lt;br /&gt;almost told him,&lt;br /&gt;never said what she should have,&lt;br /&gt;and though we once pushed&lt;br /&gt;her to, we now cheer:&lt;br /&gt;he never deserved those words,&lt;br /&gt;a ghost not there,&lt;br /&gt;(and yes, she still swirls,&lt;br /&gt;but if we have our&lt;br /&gt;way won't be under water&lt;br /&gt;much longer).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3799483164049139830?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3799483164049139830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/standing-outside-of-herself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3799483164049139830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3799483164049139830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/standing-outside-of-herself.html' title='Standing Outside of Herself'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4894774878109895410</id><published>2011-09-17T20:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T19:47:40.720-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Playboy</title><content type='html'>When you're old and wrinkly,&lt;br /&gt;all but your mind has passed,&lt;br /&gt;who will sit with you to listen&lt;br /&gt;to your stories?&lt;br /&gt;Who will hold your hand as&lt;br /&gt;the hour glass empties?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this stuff that consumes you,&lt;br /&gt;makes and ruins you now,&lt;br /&gt;will be nothing but a dusty memory,&lt;br /&gt;blowing around as lost and empty&lt;br /&gt;as you once did, with your vodka&lt;br /&gt;and whiskey,&lt;br /&gt;and all of those sunshine girls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4894774878109895410?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4894774878109895410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/playboy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4894774878109895410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4894774878109895410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/playboy.html' title='Playboy'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3483858857201804970</id><published>2011-09-16T15:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T15:51:28.071-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons from the Line...</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;There's a difference between waiting and being a fool,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;hoping and refusing to let go,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;wishing and making excuses...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today I stop being a fool, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;let go of things I've been hanging onto&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;and cease making excuses when &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;all of the evidence points in directions&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don't want to look.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Four wonderful things I've learned this week:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;1. You can't ignore what your gut has been telling you. It'spushing at you for a reason.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;2. If someone hurts you unintentionally, they deserve to beforgiven; if they hurt you intentionally, maybe they aren't the person youthought they were or want them to be.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;3. You have the ability to break your own heart just ashorribly as someone else can.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;4. Things aren't going your way? Stop blaming everyone else,stop waiting for things to get better...do something about it. At the veryleast - change your attitude. Amazing what can happen when you do.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Happy weekend readers!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3483858857201804970?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3483858857201804970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/lessons-from-line.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3483858857201804970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3483858857201804970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/lessons-from-line.html' title='Lessons from the Line...'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-6640225158061067090</id><published>2011-09-13T16:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T16:44:40.684-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts from My Life-Changing Afternoon</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;...when you crack yourself open (or life cracks you open), everything falls out onto the pavement and makes itself clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...sometimes what you think you need isn't what's important at all and fixating on it actually holds you back (wish I'd figured this one out a bit sooner).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...you can't ever get what you want, unless you ask for it: concisely and with determination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...do what's right for you, even if others disagree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-6640225158061067090?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/6640225158061067090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/thoughts-from-my-life-changing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6640225158061067090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6640225158061067090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/thoughts-from-my-life-changing.html' title='Thoughts from My Life-Changing Afternoon'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-1988020930637371274</id><published>2011-09-13T12:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T13:54:13.657-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Favs: Falling and Being in Love</title><content type='html'>My 10 fav things about &lt;i&gt;falling&lt;/i&gt; in love:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Getting butterflies in your stomach every time you see the other person.&lt;br /&gt;2. All of those, "I miss you" or "I can't wait to see you" calls and texts.&lt;br /&gt;3. Feeling like someone sees you for who you really are, not who others want you to be.&lt;br /&gt;4. Wanting to fill all of your spare time with them and that surprised feeling at someone wanting to spend all of their spare time with you.&lt;br /&gt;5. Knowing what's there when you look into someone else's eyes.&lt;br /&gt;6. Little things - that you do and that come to you.&lt;br /&gt;7. That pit-of-the-stomach sense of joy.&lt;br /&gt;8. The stupid grin that stretches on your, and their, face from ear to ear.&lt;br /&gt;9. Feeling like anything is possible - that you can do anything and be anything with that person on your side.&lt;br /&gt;10. Those good night or goodbye kisses...the ones that melt you from the inside and make you feel dizzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 10 fav things about&lt;i&gt; being&lt;/i&gt; in love:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. That sense of security you have, of trust.&lt;br /&gt;2. Knowing that you can be yourself, without any pretence.&lt;br /&gt;3. Getting to know all of someone else - learning something new about them (and you).&lt;br /&gt;4. Knowing that whatever happens, you have someone in your court willing to support you.&lt;br /&gt;5. Being with someone in the every day - making dinner together, curling up on the couch together, making future plans, becoming part of their entire world and allowing them into yours.&lt;br /&gt;6. Having a constant shoulder to lean on and two pairs of ears always willing to listen.&lt;br /&gt;7. There is room to make mistakes - to say sorry, to ask for forgiveness, to admit that you're just having a really bad day...and not be judged or punished for it.&lt;br /&gt;8. It makes hard things easier.&lt;br /&gt;9. You have someone to share adventures with.&lt;br /&gt;10. ...everything just tastes better, feels better, is better...when there are two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-1988020930637371274?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/1988020930637371274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/favs-falling-and-being-in-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1988020930637371274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1988020930637371274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/favs-falling-and-being-in-love.html' title='Favs: Falling and Being in Love'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3775200973507735831</id><published>2011-09-12T16:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T16:30:49.174-04:00</updated><title type='text'>That Kind of Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XzC9wIjytoY/Tm5o4E5kNbI/AAAAAAAABRs/abdnqCzJxK0/s1600/029_B%2526w_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XzC9wIjytoY/Tm5o4E5kNbI/AAAAAAAABRs/abdnqCzJxK0/s400/029_B%2526w_4.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I went for a hike the other day with a friend I've known since I was fourteen. Someone who, no matter the distance, no matter the time that's passed, I know I could rely on for anything. We caught up on each other's lives - work, love, what we've been up to - and as I stood taking this photo on a rickety old railroad track, I couldn't help but think of a line from one of my favourite songs by The Fray, "There are certain people you just keep coming back to."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It's funny where life takes us, the kinds of circles it draws, surprising paths it takes us on. I am grateful that my friend and I keep bumping into each other along our own - reminding each other of the spirit of our younger selves and making us stop for a moment to think about where we've been and have yet to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3775200973507735831?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3775200973507735831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/that-kind-of-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3775200973507735831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3775200973507735831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/that-kind-of-friend.html' title='That Kind of Friend'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XzC9wIjytoY/Tm5o4E5kNbI/AAAAAAAABRs/abdnqCzJxK0/s72-c/029_B%2526w_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-1491023071367698134</id><published>2011-09-10T22:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T22:38:03.451-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Food for Thought</title><content type='html'>Sometimes the answer you're looking for comes from the lack of one, the silence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-1491023071367698134?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/1491023071367698134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/food-for-thought.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1491023071367698134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/1491023071367698134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/food-for-thought.html' title='Food for Thought'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-761602597201631818</id><published>2011-09-10T18:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T18:46:47.691-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought for the Day</title><content type='html'>When you get hurt, you build this brick wall around your heart,&lt;br /&gt;sometimes you lock it with a chain, or lace it with a barbed-wire fence,&lt;br /&gt;you might even try to convince yourself that you're never going to let&lt;br /&gt;anyone or anything ever get through...but the truth is that if you never&lt;br /&gt;allow yourself to be vulnerable, never trust or risk, never forgive or let&lt;br /&gt;down that guard, you're only half-living. Your heart will be broken but it&lt;br /&gt;will also be stitched up...someone will want to sew it back together...&lt;br /&gt;and you should let them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-761602597201631818?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/761602597201631818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/thought-for-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/761602597201631818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/761602597201631818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/thought-for-day.html' title='Thought for the Day'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4087911296518191505</id><published>2011-09-06T18:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T20:17:33.008-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Disappearing Acts</title><content type='html'>You've become an&lt;br /&gt;expert at vanishing:&lt;br /&gt;making me think&lt;br /&gt;that all you say is&lt;br /&gt;an illusion or&lt;br /&gt;trick you've staged,&lt;br /&gt;I want so much&lt;br /&gt;to believe,&lt;br /&gt;in all that felt real&lt;br /&gt;(still feels real,&lt;br /&gt;easy)&lt;br /&gt;between you and me,&lt;br /&gt;it's less difficult to love you&lt;br /&gt;than be angry or try&lt;br /&gt;to understand what&lt;br /&gt;I never understood,&lt;br /&gt;why I just can't shake&lt;br /&gt;that it might be a mistake&lt;br /&gt;to get over us&lt;br /&gt;(how I wish I would)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But perhaps&amp;nbsp;I'm conjuring what&lt;br /&gt;isn't there, or was as thin&lt;br /&gt;and unreliable as air,&lt;br /&gt;as undone as the strap&lt;br /&gt;on my dress, one you&lt;br /&gt;once slid down my arm&lt;br /&gt;and let fall where it did,&lt;br /&gt;maybe I'm just as much&lt;br /&gt;as a magician as you,&lt;br /&gt;letting you think that&lt;br /&gt;I am okay with&lt;br /&gt;playing pretend,&lt;br /&gt;tempting fate with&lt;br /&gt;this sleight of hand&lt;br /&gt;when what we&lt;br /&gt;should be doing&lt;br /&gt;is letting go or&lt;br /&gt;giving in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4087911296518191505?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4087911296518191505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/disappearing-act.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4087911296518191505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4087911296518191505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/disappearing-act.html' title='Disappearing Acts'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4689701054931527722</id><published>2011-09-01T16:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T16:27:17.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Strength</title><content type='html'>I`ve felt a bit defeated lately (sad heart, a few frustrating unknowns, life just being what it is - life). Feeling this way, however, has reminded me of a few things about strength:&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means acknowledging how you feel instead of bottling it in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means knowing when to ask for support.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means standing tall in the pouring rain.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means accepting an unwanted truth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means having the courage to say you`re sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means forgiving, even when it`s hard or feels impossible.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means that the best thing you can do for someone is to let them go.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means knowing when you aren`t ready.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means pushing yourself past doubt, insecurity and fear.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means believing in the goodness of others, even if there is evidence to the contrary.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means acknowledging that you were wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means admitting that you need someone to take care of you.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means facing something on your own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means standing out on the ledge while others back away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means making yourself vulnerable when you just want to hide.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means loving someone, even after they have hurt or disappointed you.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Strength sometimes means trying again, and again.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;``It does not take much strength to do things, but it requires great strength to decide what to do.`` - Chow Ching&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4689701054931527722?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4689701054931527722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/strength.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4689701054931527722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4689701054931527722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/09/strength.html' title='Strength'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-815390059811513216</id><published>2011-08-31T17:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T17:20:33.350-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Tiger</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HgirIO9jJoI/Tl6lbZ3ifdI/AAAAAAAABRI/VZLgeBhy4kg/s1600/330_B%2526w_4bf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HgirIO9jJoI/Tl6lbZ3ifdI/AAAAAAAABRI/VZLgeBhy4kg/s400/330_B%2526w_4bf.jpg" width="355" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Snapped this a few weeks ago at a birthday party...love!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-815390059811513216?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/815390059811513216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/little-tiger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/815390059811513216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/815390059811513216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/little-tiger.html' title='Little Tiger'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HgirIO9jJoI/Tl6lbZ3ifdI/AAAAAAAABRI/VZLgeBhy4kg/s72-c/330_B%2526w_4bf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2366327490997733173</id><published>2011-08-29T21:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T21:18:38.342-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Believe</title><content type='html'>Sometimes it's really hard to put our faith, to put our trust in something. Even when we have no doubt how we feel, even though there is no question that what is right in front of us is real, even when the evidence piles up higher than a jury would ever need, even then we question, even then we ask ourselves, "Could it be true?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This unwillingness to believe comes from disappointment, past hurt and fear, from wanting something so badly and thinking that perhaps it would be easier to lose it now than it would in the future...as though we can see ahead and predict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the truth is that none of us can know the outcome of anything. We can guess, we can surmise, but it's all a waste of time, because in the end, it's impossible to know what's coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've re-learned this week that life can change in a minute, an hour, an afternoon, a day. That it's better to risk believing than to let disbelief strangle you, hold you back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's scary standing there, asking someone to love you, asking someone to give you a chance, deciding to move, deciding to change...whatever that thing may be. But the scariest thing, of all, is not trying. Of what we give up when we don't put our hands out, offer our hearts up, step forward into that unknown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time you're unsure, or sure but just unwilling to accept that it's possible, hold tight and believe. You have more to lose when you don't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2366327490997733173?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2366327490997733173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/belief.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2366327490997733173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2366327490997733173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/belief.html' title='Believe'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2489496767336618838</id><published>2011-08-29T12:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T12:44:59.229-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Psychology of Us</title><content type='html'>Rubin, Hatfield, Sternberg, Lee,&lt;br /&gt;they all want to tell me that&lt;br /&gt;we fit into a nice, tiny box,&lt;br /&gt;that this loss is just a loss,&lt;br /&gt;maybe perhaps that&lt;br /&gt;Chapman is right:&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know how to speak&lt;br /&gt;your language (or maybe&lt;br /&gt;even my own).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2489496767336618838?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2489496767336618838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/psychology-of-us.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2489496767336618838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2489496767336618838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/psychology-of-us.html' title='The Psychology of Us'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-3438540794364031994</id><published>2011-08-28T19:03:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T19:15:26.096-04:00</updated><title type='text'>25 Things We Shouldn't Take for Granted</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;...what would your 25 things be?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Family - whether by choice or by blood, whether close or far away...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Those friends who are there for anything - to sit with you in a hospital room, to laugh with you until your belly hurts, to listen to your heartache, wipe away your tears, hold you when you need strength, share adventures and good conversation, the ones who, as Walter Winchell writes, "walk in when the rest of the world walks out."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Falling asleep and waking up beside someone who loves and appreciates you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Music - the way it moves you, sings what's in your heart, heals you, gives you energy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Your taste buds - all of the glorious flavours you get to enjoy over your lifetime.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vacation days - soak them up, use them wisely, spend them doing what you love.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lessons learned - don't file them away; remember their value.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Seasons - how they change, how we change, how they offer new beginnings, remind us that nothing is permanent - no sky ever stays dark, how the cold always gives way to warmth.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The roof over your head - so many in this world don't have one.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Books and classrooms - seats of learning, places that help us stretch and grow, provide us with insight, take away some of our ignorance.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Movies - especially enjoyed in snuggled on the couch, wrapped up in blankets or wrapped up in someone you just can't get enough of.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hugs - their power to take away pain, fill a heart with hope, offer forgiveness and understanding.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Second chances - opportunities to make things right, to rediscover, to try again.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Toothpaste - oral health is key to overall health. And we should never take our overall health for granted. Exercise, everything in moderation...don't forget to floss too!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A sincere apology - the courage it took for someone to offer it, how vulnerable they let themselves be in that moment for you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Water - rain, waterfalls, tall glass after a big hike, how it sustains, refreshes, allows things to grow or take root.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Babies and the elderly - what they have to teach us, what they remind us of.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Flowers - tokens of love and friendship, colours brushing a landscape, smells that seduce and bring cheer.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dinners - places to gather and give thanks, tell stories, feel connected, share hopes and dreams.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Choices - how they are ours to make, how we have more freedom to make them then a lot of people in this world, how they can determine the outcome of our story...bring it to a climax or put us on a path we never imagined possible.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sunrises and sunsets - beginnings and ends of things.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mistakes - all of the things we can learn from them, all of the things we can take away, all of the beautiful ways in which they shape us.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Our right to vote - to be part of, to help determine, to engage.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Our veterans - the sacrifices they made so that you and I can live without fear.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Our amazing Canada - the privileges it affords us, the opportunities it provides us with, the ways in which it brings us together and inspires.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-3438540794364031994?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/3438540794364031994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/25-things-we-shouldnt-take-for-granted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3438540794364031994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/3438540794364031994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/25-things-we-shouldnt-take-for-granted.html' title='25 Things We Shouldn&apos;t Take for Granted'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-2226490417436148431</id><published>2011-08-27T15:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T15:51:41.111-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Time is Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;10 reasons why you should do that thing you’ve been meaningto do... today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;It might be your only opportunity – the onlytime life opens that door for you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You may get the opportunity again but be unableto pursue it – life has a funny way of getting in the way of our own plans.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;It might be too late – waiting keeps otherswaiting.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;“Someday” is an easy excuse – let go of yourfear and insecurities.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It’s really hard to live with regret and evenmore difficult to live with “What if?” s.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Your confidence and courage may open up a wholeslew of additional possibilities.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;“If you don’t risk anything, you risk even more.”– Erica Jong. Enough said…&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You’ll be an inspiration to others – especially thoseyounger than you. And it is amazing what can happen, what sort of positive changes can occur, when someone is inspired.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You have this life to live – so live it. Don’tput off until tomorrow what’s in your heart and on your mind today.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What have you got to lose? The greatest dreamsare those lived while awake.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...sadly, it often takes a tragedy for us to realize that we aren't guaranteed anything in life...not even our next moment. So hang tight to what you have, chase after that which you desire, and as John Mayer croons, "say what you need to say" because tomorrow you might be unable to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-2226490417436148431?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/2226490417436148431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/time-is-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2226490417436148431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/2226490417436148431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/time-is-now.html' title='The Time is Now'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-7706554848189069161</id><published>2011-08-24T12:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T12:46:57.051-05:00</updated><title type='text'>25 Things I'd Tell My Younger Self About Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;...good reminders for the present too. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Be open to who you might fall in love with. &lt;br /&gt;2. Say how you feel, even if you make a fool of yourself.&lt;br /&gt;3. Have standards, not expectations.&lt;br /&gt;4. Go with your gut, always.&lt;br /&gt;5. You deserve, above all else, to be respected. Don't accept less.&lt;br /&gt;6.&amp;nbsp;Quit making&amp;nbsp;excuses for others. Either they show up or they don't. Either they love you or they don't. Either they respect you or they don't. &lt;br /&gt;7. Someone who loves you is never too busy to call, never too busy to write, never too busy to send a quick hello. &lt;br /&gt;8. Someone who shuts you out is not someone you should let in.&lt;br /&gt;9. When someone loves you, you will never have to guess and you will never be uncertain.&lt;br /&gt;10. Anyone can say anything, it's what&amp;nbsp;they do that counts.&lt;br /&gt;11. Love requires work, but it should never be&lt;em&gt; that&lt;/em&gt; difficult.&lt;br /&gt;12. It's not love if&amp;nbsp;they expect you to change.&lt;br /&gt;13. It's not love if you lose yourself in it.&lt;br /&gt;14. Listen to your friends if they say you are settling for less than you deserve. Chances are, they are right.&lt;br /&gt;15. Know the difference between what you want to hear and what's actually being said.&lt;br /&gt;16. Forgive yourself.&lt;br /&gt;17. Forgive them. &lt;br /&gt;18. Offer second chances, but&amp;nbsp;be&amp;nbsp;wary of giving&amp;nbsp;thirds.&lt;br /&gt;19. Believe.&lt;br /&gt;20. Sometimes love simply isn't enough. Walk away.&lt;br /&gt;21. Love is not a fairytale. Be the best possible version of yourself and find someone willing to accept and see all parts of you - beautiful and a little broken.&lt;br /&gt;22. Allow yourself to get swept away but remember that the tide always comes in.&lt;br /&gt;23. Listen - it's the greatest gift you can offer someone else.&lt;br /&gt;24. They are not coming back. Stop waiting. Gather up your lessons, gather up that love, move forward, move on, toward other wonderful experiences that are waiting. &lt;br /&gt;25. Let go of what you think you want and be open to love giving you what you need and deserve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-7706554848189069161?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/7706554848189069161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/25-things-id-tell-my-younger-self-about.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7706554848189069161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/7706554848189069161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/25-things-id-tell-my-younger-self-about.html' title='25 Things I&apos;d Tell My Younger Self About Love'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-6814881364495810557</id><published>2011-08-23T22:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T12:28:51.824-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Live What You Say</title><content type='html'>I enjoy words – what they imply, what they could be, how they give us hope and possibility, how they can cut across geography or time, empty a heart of anger and fill it back up with love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you can’t alone trust in words – they are never reliable. Sometimes they are just tricks, deceptions, and no matter how genuine the uttering of them, writing them, handing of them over is, you can't actually believe in them unless they are backed by action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need to try (always try) to live what we say and hold others accountable to what they say too.&amp;nbsp;We toss out&amp;nbsp;such phrases as, "I love you", "I'm sorry", "I'll be there", yet no matter how good our intentions, if those truths aren't demonstrated through behaviour then they aren't in fact truths at all - just flowery speeches that will win someone over in a moment but never hold them captive in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canada lost a respected man this week who was admired for living his words. He even left us with a few inspirational ones that stretch out from beyond the grave.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This loss, paired with a sort of recent loss of my own, has reminded me of a few things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;if you don't mean something, don't say it&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;if you say you'll do something, then do it&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;if you claim to be something, then be it&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;if you want something, then chase it&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;use words for good, not harm&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;remember that words are hard to forget and impossible to take back&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;ditch those who spew them out but never live up to them&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;no matter how wonderful (or awful) something sounds, don't believe it until you see it&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&amp;nbsp;...the people I love and respect most in my life are not the ones who offer occasional compliments or condolences; they're the ones who show up, who offer their shoulders and warm hugs; make the time, move around their schedules; they are the ones who illustrate through small, thoughtful and kind gestures that I am loved and what they speak is alive and true in their hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage you, readers, to speak what's in your own heart, to try to live, always, what you say...you might be surprised by the unexpected (and wonderful) ways in which your life changes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-6814881364495810557?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/6814881364495810557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/live-what-you-say.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6814881364495810557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/6814881364495810557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/live-what-you-say.html' title='Live What You Say'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-4973833182510541713</id><published>2011-08-22T21:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T21:42:51.165-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This One's On You (Last Call)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Empty bar, empty bottle, &lt;br /&gt;empty dreams somewhere&lt;br /&gt;in the middle,&lt;br /&gt;you kept&amp;nbsp;us waiting,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;kept me out,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;kept us wondering,&lt;br /&gt;filled us with doubt,&lt;br /&gt;this one's on you,&lt;br /&gt;this one you can't bend,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tab run high with&lt;br /&gt;versions&lt;br /&gt;none of us understand,&lt;br /&gt;are you&lt;i&gt; this&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;or &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;not enough good music&lt;br /&gt;to dance me around,&lt;br /&gt;not enough left in the glass&lt;br /&gt;to bother gulping down&lt;br /&gt;before the doors close,&lt;br /&gt;before the guitar slows,&lt;br /&gt;the lights catch you&lt;br /&gt;mid-trick,&lt;br /&gt;you'll take her home&lt;br /&gt;but she'll never see,&lt;br /&gt;all of them deceptions,&lt;br /&gt;ghosts of me,&lt;br /&gt;none who want to trace&lt;br /&gt;the wrinkles that&lt;br /&gt;etch on your skin&lt;br /&gt;(ones that won't fix&lt;br /&gt;what's broken),&lt;br /&gt;coffee's gone cold,&lt;br /&gt;soda and whiskey's gone&lt;br /&gt;flat,&lt;br /&gt;others spilling out onto&lt;br /&gt;the street while you&lt;br /&gt;stare at the door matt,&lt;br /&gt;reminded suddenly of&lt;br /&gt;the way you've treated&lt;br /&gt;those who cared&lt;br /&gt;(and those now defeated),&lt;br /&gt;wallet in hand, keys&lt;br /&gt;lost and found, take one&lt;br /&gt;more good look at&lt;br /&gt;what's left of the town&lt;br /&gt;you set on fire with your&lt;br /&gt;lies and tantrums,&lt;br /&gt;the last call we thought&lt;br /&gt;you'd abandon half-&lt;br /&gt;through,&lt;br /&gt;the hangover not worth it,&lt;br /&gt;but obviously worth something&lt;br /&gt;to you.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-4973833182510541713?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/4973833182510541713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/this-ones-on-you-last-call.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4973833182510541713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/4973833182510541713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/this-ones-on-you-last-call.html' title='This One&apos;s On You (Last Call)'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-326661925054482966</id><published>2011-08-22T13:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T13:07:29.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought for the Day</title><content type='html'>Sometimes the world gives us in-the-meantimes to distract us while we wait for the right time. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-326661925054482966?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/326661925054482966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/thought-for-day_22.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/326661925054482966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/326661925054482966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/thought-for-day_22.html' title='Thought for the Day'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848586642842155498.post-5329780554191328709</id><published>2011-08-20T20:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T20:41:07.041-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bubbles</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ko77GPdBc44/TlBT6rrzGjI/AAAAAAAABQo/KNpBXk0wWwE/s1600/254_B%2526w_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ko77GPdBc44/TlBT6rrzGjI/AAAAAAAABQo/KNpBXk0wWwE/s400/254_B%2526w_4.jpg" width="291" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Caught this today...love, love!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848586642842155498-5329780554191328709?l=writephotographer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/feeds/5329780554191328709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/bubbles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5329780554191328709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848586642842155498/posts/default/5329780554191328709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writephotographer.blogspot.com/2011/08/bubbles.html' title='Bubbles'/><author><name>writephotographer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08908930299198794322</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJOVN9iU1i0/To0jPGYRcZI/AAAAAAAABWw/sc6f2-9l9C0/s220/042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ko77GPdBc44/TlBT6rrzGjI/AAAAAAAABQo/KNpBXk0wWwE/s72-c/254_B%2526w_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
