Playing With Color


When a section of a photograph jumps out at me, I know it wants to play what I call, dress up. Orange, was the color which awakened this setting from the original photo,

To carve time from my duties to play with my photographs is relaxing. I go somewhere where I can be alone and adjust the colors until my eye is pleased and my soul is satisfied. I’m always amazed of what pop out when the effects have been adjusted. A whole new message come out from the photograph than the original.

Below is the photo before the change. Which seems asleep to me. It needed to be awaken. It was a sleeping beauty.


I went to visit a friend in Tennessee and she wanted to see what photos I could take from her place. Her back yard was a playground for my imagination. It’s a beautiful and magical spot. I throughly enjoyed photographing her property.

Here’s the photo the section came from. When I first looked at the photo, the leaves between the trees seemed to sway. I zoomed in to take a closer look. It was then when they grabbed me and I knew I needed to redressed the photo.


It’s fall time, but the picture below, which I also redressed, gives me a feel of spring. It refreshes my soul. I envision little girls dressed in their Sunday dresses picking flowers while the boys find all the easter eggs.

Hope you enjoyed my playground.

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Far Yet Close


The mountains scale down the size of the cabins and pin point our next stop.

My first snow excursion in Alaska. A taste of winter delight. If only I had brought some wine, it would have been the cherry on a perfect day.



Be light today and make someone shine.

No words, just a smile from the heart.

Give a tender touch of kindness.

And one lasting loving look.

Gently the snow cuddles among dry leaves on a lifeless branch and rests.


Snow tucks within a dried-up stock. It bends, but doesn’t break.


Like a bride’s veil, snow glows on top of uniquely crafted dry plant.


At The Edge Of Height

20171015_150407.jpgI stand at the edge of height, not for the thrill or to jump, but to see how far I’ve come. Besides, the view is much different looking down, than up.

When one is at the bottom of a canyon, a mountain, or life, the focus may fall on the difficulties, challenges and at time impossibilities as one works their way up. Finding a passage to higher ground, doesn’t always seem achievable. Many times giving up, is an option, which I refuse to take.

The Grand Canyon beckons me to the tip of where I can stand. My husband is always close by.  At times, he holds me by the back of my pants to make sure I don’t take another step.

It’s not that I want the risk, but a part of me wants to become what I see. I long to be a hawk, an eagle or any bird and soar through the canyons. A desire builds in me to hear the wind resonate the tonal sounds of the canyons as they sing. Imagining to be one with nature in this form, frees me and helps me see life from a different point of view, from accomplishments.20171015_150601.jpg

When realism returns to me, I sit and admire the canyon’s design and envy the crows flying by. To watch the colors of these rocks change from sunrise to sunset, a breath of life enters my soul and spirit. I can then relax and recall, God is present.

To study their cavities and realize their differences, they point to my own uniqueness. For many times I’m like many ladies, a wife, a mom, a daughter, a teacher. I’m a person who lines up with other women under many different categories. Like others, my oneness becomes hard to find.

At the edge, I’m reminded by the Creator of my design, why I exist and the reason of  why I stand alone. I shouldn’t be sad or mad or lonely. For the spot of where I stand is for a specific purpose, for a short time and for limited space.

Unlike the canyon’s crevasses, which remain in their spot, I’m privileged, for I choose my place to stand. My Creator showed me, how I am like a bird. I can fly any where and land on any spot, yet I will stand with only me.

As I think, I’m never alone, a small voice tells me, “you feel alone.”

It’s not about being alone, or the sense of loneliness, but being who I was created to be. Visiting the Grand Canyon, made me well aware of the fact, I’m the only one who occupies this specific spot at this exact time for a particular task. The reason has been, and will be, revealed when it’s time for me to take a stand.

Standing at the edge of height refuels the truth of my uniqueness, my oneness, my me.

Once I turned and faced my husband, immediately I knew, I didn’t get to where I am, alone.


A Dazzling Snow Flower

I stopped.

Snow captured by a flower’s remnant

She sparkled from the sunlight.

I turned.

Her glow penetrated my soul.

I thought.

A snow flower?

I gasped.

Her dried-up form stood strong.

I admired.

She held a beacon of snow.

I desired.

Her beauty after she was gone.



A Snowy River’s Heart

Palmer, Alaska

It’s twenty-six degrees, calm and delightful.
Why don’t you stay until Chill or Darkness comes along.

If I’ll tell you a secret, will you keep company the part of me that’s on the way?

Wait, hear me out.

Many come but very few get to know me. They find me cold and impersonal.

But really I’m not. The coldness is not even mine. It belongs to Snowy and Icy. They cause this bitter cold within me.

As for being impersonal, they should give me a break. I don’t even have a face to call my own. That’s why I mirror everyone’s form.

Maybe that’s my mistake, taking an identity which wasn’t my own.

Well now you know the secret I’ve carried for so long.

A River Of Creativity


Music creates new worlds within me.

Gradually, the piano’s soft melody pulls open the curtains of my soul and thoughts emerge from the river of ideas. Scrolls of scenarios unfold exposing the places my eyes have seen and my heart relives pleasurable or unpleasant moments.

Then, one by one, two or three concepts perform to prearranged experiences giving life to color and breath to shadows.

Impression, concepts, conviction, scheme, solution, plan, opinion, perception, interpretation, suggestion, hypothesis, and belief rush, leap or swing as the essence of a theme develops. Rhythmic heartbeat drum from my understanding giving my feelings an identity from days before.

A story, a chapter, a poem or an article wrap all of me, until the peak of conclusion has made its trademark.

Time returns, the song within me ends, and the brainstorming is complete.

Now the refining begins.


No Easy Flow


Many times when I have time to write, all my ideas become clogged and nothing seem to flow. Today, I had a great desire to write my experiences as I drove around Alaska and describe the beauty I saw. Something hindered my language of creativity and nothing came to mind.

Words appeared on my computer scream and I immediately delete them. They had no substance, no meaning, no message. Then I thought, I will try to write about my immediate dilemma. Even trying to explain my struggle to write something became difficult. The stream of words that rang true were not found. Well, here goes something.

Words come, but to string the concepts to represent a coherent idea doesn’t always flow well.

For me, writing is a river of words when the theme, story, or my imagination is in full force in me, the river goes and goes and goes. My ideas erupt with ease from feelings, desires, dreams and daydreams. But, more often than not, the flow of my writing becomes hindered by the many boulders of insecurities, doubts, inefficiencies, weakness, fears and self doubt.

I must learn from a true master, I photographed. A river.

The water flowed fast over the small and scattered boulders. Where the medium chunks of rock sat, the river slowed, yet it moved along. But, when the water came to huge slices of mountain rocks the river trickled, finding narrow passage to get to the other side. The river never stood still as long as the water kept coming from its origin.

I must trickle my words on paper or on the computer screen until the narrow thought joins with the medium or fast flow of my ability to pluck away my thoughts coherently.

Never give up, until the river dries up.

When the river dries, find particles of dirt that clump together to form clusters of dry ground. Allow them to give way to a different style of writing.





Close and Thought Provoking


If imperfections create unique beauty

Why do I strive to be perfect?

I’ll should aim to be good instead

In-spite of  my imperfections


Can create a uniquely nice me

I do like that thought much better


A Hiker’s Dream in Alaska

Girdwood Alaska

A mountain top view at the Moose Meadow Park, in Girdwood, Alaska is an exhilarating experience. To stand at the base of this majestic mountain range will itch one’s feet to go  and explore the trails in the woods.




This small town is cuddled among outdoor beauty which changes all year round. Come at your favorite time, wether be summer, spring, winter or fall, there will be something to do for all.

Do make sure to bring proper attire for the time of year. Check the weather and plan accordingly, not only for clothing but safety and for what animals may be around.


Spending the night is best in the late fall and winter, in my opinion. For the fall days are filled with magical glittering leaves when the sun shines. Then during the night, the sky lights up with electrifying auroras dancing to a silent melodious tune. Both delight the soul, especially when the sky’s are partially or totally clear.


One can stay in the Alyeska Hotel. From this resort, it’s easy hike to the Moose Meadow Park, ride the tram to eat and sightsee, fish at near by streams or ski the Alyeska Mountain. If you rather have a more home like stay, there are B&B’s and vacation homes one can rent.


20171002_191904.jpgPlaces like these, makes me wish my head was in the clouds, yet my feet must remained parallel on the grown, if I do desire to hike and explored this wonderland of Alaska.

Up in those mountain are glaciers and the only way I could see them was from where I stood, unless I took a helicopter or hiking tour.

As for hiking to the top, that would take time, planning and careful watch, for brown and black bears roam wild in Alaska’s starting in spring to fall. Oh and I better not forget to warn you about moosie moosies. They can attack at any time of the year. Hide behind a tree if yo see a moose. But be on high alert in the summer when young calfs are around, same goes for those cute, fluffy looking bear cubs.

Bring your bells and whistles when you come, for they are not only for Christmas time. But, to keep you and your dear ones safe and alive, all year round. Cause one never knows if a bear forgot to wait for nature’s alarm and woke up too early and then be found.