Whiskers, Shutters & Strings

Friday nights almost always find me and my Nikon across the river at a small, smoke filled little bar in what used to be - and to some, still is - a highly disreputable stretch of Texas Street.  The drinks are cheap, the doors always open, the music never stops and the people who congregate come to share their gifts freely. They sing, they play, they laugh and support each other.  Each new face is welcomed and I feel honored to be part of the regular family.


Sometimes it's a search to discover where you belong but sometimes something calls to you, something knows your name.  It may be love or motherhood or art, it may be a person or a place, a career, the sound of a melancholy harmonica or fate - but whatever calls, it's wise to listen, really listen - because the things that are meant to be are inevitable.  In my case, I was meant to love and shelter animals, feed my soul with music, and take pictures.  The rest is clutter, necessary perhaps, unavoidable perhaps, but still clutter.  The trick is to clear it away, pick your way through one careful step at a time, and get to where you belong - without being derailed by drama or disappointment or failure.  It's pretty much a learn as you go process, bound to have detours and dead ends as well as soaring success and moments of complete happiness.  As the song says, Some days you're the windshield, some days you're the bug.


With my animals, there is unconditional love and total acceptance.  They've taught me patience, responsibility, tolerance and kindness.


With music, I've found healing, companionship, and harmony.


With photography, I've discovered an outlet for what language can't express.


May we all be as fortunate.