If You Keep Your Eyes Open, You'll See Amazing Things

I take my camera(s) everywhere. I keep a small one in the trunk of my car, a medium-sized one in the office, and my Nikon D60 is usually with me, especially when I'm going to an "event." I wrote earlier in the week about going to a welcome baby party and the hostess gave me lots of leeway in photographing not only the people, but a few pieces of art--and even the buffet table. 

Here are three items I'd like to share--and I'm inviting you to write captions if you feel like it--even irreverent ones. Just click on the photos to embiggen them. (Thanks for this word, Kay D.)

I was mesmerized by what I called "The Goddess," who was on the patio in a gorgeous mosaic fountain and pool. That area of the house was not open to visitors, but when I spotted her, I asked permission to take my camera out to photograph her. 

The Goddess's owner said that the chemicals in the water in the past have damaged this Italian beauty, although when spring comes and the water is turned on, the new chemicals will not harm her anymore.

Personally, I liked the weather-worn look of this goddess; she reminded me of a lot of the antiquities I saw in Turkey and Greece last year. I sat staring at her a long time. By the way, she is about 4' high, if I were to guess. 

I just enlarged this photo when I placed it and the goddess takes my breath away. I may ultimately use her in a SoulCollage card. 

This beautiful painting hangs above the fireplace in the dining area. From where I was sitting, I could see this painting so clearly and the journal dialogue writer in me wanted to have a conversation with the two lovers and the woman looking on. 

When I first looked at it, I missed the woman in the foreground with her back to us. 

How long had these friends been hanging out together? What did it feel like to be so immortalized by an artist, who if not Italian, had an Italian heart? Is this a duplicate of a master that I do not recognize as famous? 

The painting seemed very erotic and very elegant to me. I would have liked to melt into the canvas just to see what was going on, but the Mediterranean buffet was so delicious I kept getting sidetracked. It also helped that the luncheon was all women (except for baby H.) and we were hooting, hollering and giggling. 

And then the finale: this dessert. 

It was all chocolatey, squishy and creamy with lots of fresh fruit inside. And next to it was a round platter filled with all kinds of fresh fruit including kumquats which brought my childhood back with a bang. We had lots of fruit trees growing on our acre of land: orange, blood orange,tangerine, pomegranate, loquat and kumquat. They bordered the beds of boysenberries, strawberries, blackberries, raspberries and marionberries which my mom sold to the local grocery store. Ah, I so took all that yummy fresh fruit for granted when I was a kid; I was embarrassed my folks had to work so darned hard to earn a living. My parents told me I was a snob, or a wanna-be snob. Hmm. Am I still? 

From a spiritual point of view, my camera acts as a lens on being in the now. When my thousands of photos stored in iPhoto flash by as a slide show when I am in between writing documents on the computer, I am immediately transported back to wherever I was--and whoever I was with. 

Another Redondowriter addiction, but compared to some I could have, I guess photography is pretty benign.