Travel: Bahamas

Here are some of the first images from our trip to The Bahamas. At sunrise we were on the plane, and by sunset we were seeing palm trees under the moon. I almost always take photos of our view out the airplane window using the camera on my phone. But this time I decided to whip out my camera and take the shots the old-fashioned way. This trip took place during my photo journal year. That year I used my camera - not the camera on my phone - to take a photo everyday. I missed many days, but I cherish the photos that I have now because of that project.

I’ve always loved a silhouette on a gradient sky. This photo reminds me of a water color project in elementary school that was super basic but apparently rememberable. We water colored with sunset colors. Then when it dried, we ripped it into strips and re-glued it together. Then we added tree silhouettes that we cut out of black paper. I remember thinking, “This is like real art.”


I found myself at the Queen’s Staircase in The Bahamas staring up at this tree that was growing at the very top of a cliff about 100 feet above me. It’s roots were streaming down, bending around rocks and other plants that had made this wall their home.

Imagining how old it was and seeing how long its roots were, Wes and I took a moment and said hi to the tree. Its canopy was a part of the roof of this deep slave-made walkway which was built in the 1790s. It was crazy to see its vast root system and how it thrived even on the edge of a cliff. Resilience. We had a moment with that tree.


For my birthday I told Wes, “I want a no-clock day.” This looked like eating when we were hungry, moving on when we were curious about something else, and resting when we needed a break. One of my favorite days for sure. After breakfast we started our adventure by seeing old military forts. I like old buildings. They spark so much curiosity and mystery. This image makes me chuckle. I see it like the modern day is peeking its head into the corner of the frame. It definitely interrupts any daydreaming of this building’s past.

Doors. I like to take photos through the frame of doors and windows. These stairs remind me of some Nancy Drew books I used to read as a kid. The middle image was taken right up agains the fort’s wall, looking straight up. “What a place to live.” The third image falls more under the abstract photography category with no real idea for scale. In real life this plant is growing in a very small hole in the wall. But in the frame, it almost looks like the entrance to a long forgotten cave. You could probably discover some secret treasures in there, if you can get past the green guardian creature at the mouth of the cave.


Recently I asked small group of people, “So what are some of your interesting curiosities?” The conversation went from Egypt (that was me), to Egypt again (that was someone else), to ticks and disease, and then to rockets and space. On my mental list of curiosities, right next to Egypt is Atlantis. Anything about it. So, when Wes and I were throwing ideas around for a birthday trip, Atlantis was one of those “I’ll just say it, but we wouldn’t actually go there. That’d be too big” ideas. Well, sometimes dreams come true. I’m not sure what my younger self would think if I told her she was going to go to that one resort in that Mary Kate and Ashley movie. So crazy.

One of my favorite parts of being at Atlantis was being surrounded by so much intentional detail. From the buildings, to the walking paths, and the gardens, not to mention the open air marine habitats. And the waterslides. I’m not usually one for waterparks. I think I’ve never liked standing in line for long periods of time, dripping wet. Not my favorite type of fun. But I will say, the waterslides at Atlantis were worth it. So fun. One slide in particular had that once-in-a-lifetime feel to it. You go down on inner tubes, and at the end of the ride you find yourself inside a shark tank. You are riding the water down the middle of a glass tube through the sharks’ pool. Sharks above you, below you, on your sides. You get it. After the waterpark was closed, I remember waiting awkwardly-long to take that picture of the shark swimming by the window of the waterslide. Now back to the epic-ness of Atlantis. Everything was so carefully created. It was magical being surrounded on every side by that level of design. Wes and I found ourselves repeatedly talking about Glory. So, I guess you could say it was a glorious experience.

Art School

Once upon a time in art school, a professor announced to all of the almost graduated, “Take everything you have made in the past four years and throw it away.” He was challenging us to move on from these beginning works and encouraging us to keep making art. Make new art. Better art. Here are some of the art pieces that I should have thrown away. I didn’t.

My Green Year Narrative Session

My color for the year at this time was Green. The color green meaning new life and growth. That year I walked through some new life in many different forms, but one of my favorites was in the form of a baby.

This was a collaboration with my photographer friend Rebecca Reale. I brought her my idea of a photography shoot all about my color of the year emphasis on my baby bump. We shared so many pins on Pinterest and then finally landed on a warm earthy style, with natural textures, but also with some pops of rose gold. That was mainly because my hair was rose gold at the time.

The studio had little to no widows, so we knew we would be working with studio lighting. Check. Now we needed the set. We ended up spray painting and foraging. Our foraging looked like cutting down those tall pampas grasses you see on the side of the road. Spray painting them, each side. And then arranging them around the space. One of our favorite moments of the set was the hanging branch.

Because of this project I realized how much I like spraying metallic paints on organic things like flowers. The gilded look was perfect. It took this dried up crunchy thing and turned it into a centerpiece. Naturally, I put it in my hair as a type of jewelry. The circle of evergreens on the floor was all Rebecca. She told me it reminded her of different birth rituals. Her favorite one looking like surrounding an expectant mother and praying for her and the baby. It became a prayer circle. The evergreens match that very nicely if you ask me. Prayer sometimes feel like an evergreen branch: ever prayed, ever heard, ever present, ever good-wishing.

Now for some movement. This green dress was perfect for a good ol’ skirt throw around. It wanted to make sure green for the dress was going to blend well with the other elements within the frame because I wanted this to read “nature” event though we were in a pretty industrial setting. That brings me to our narrative for this project.

So here’s the narrative: no matter what your current setting is, life is stronger than we think and it can bloom even in the harshest of circumstances. The image of a flower growing in the crack of a sidewalk comes to mind. This project was a celebration of life. In the big ways like the new life of a baby, but also in the small ways like waking up and living this life even after someone you loved is no longer with you. This was the pregnancy after my dad Dean passed away. This would be the second child of mine that he didn’t get to meet. Sadness. And life keeps going. Life is all around, and it thrives even when sometimes you think it shouldn’t. I told Rebecca I wanted to do green, natural, feminine, and celebrate new life. I think we got it.

ORANGE

Rhema asked me to sketch for her. She likes to watch me draw. I love it. Sometimes I wonder if her interests are her interests or if they are my interests. If she actually likes to cook and draw and paint and colors and clothes or if that’s just my influence. Either way, I know she enjoys it. I drew this vase that I got at the thrift store for my 30th birthday party. I don’t know if I’m gonna keep it. This drawing might be a documentation of the thing that I once owned.


I went to start my orange pastel project today, only to find out I don’t have an orange pastel in my case. I must’ve used it all up on my project in college. I think it was the huge pastel landscape of a man sticking his head out of a train window, enjoying the ride in the breeze, in the trees. So that’s why you see paint.

Learning more about what the biblical meaning of colors are, I looked up at orange and the first word I read was “deliverance”. Right under it is “passionate praise”. I started painting as I like to, by outlining the ripped edge of the paper. I don’t mind if the paper ripped out my sketchbook has a ripped edge because it gives me a place to start. It helps me start the project and then I think it helps me flow sooner.

As I started my orange line, I started on the top of the rip in the middle of the left side of the paper and worked my way down then I started back on the top and just started going with it. I was thinking of the idea of praise, the question of deliverance, “what is deliverance?” and about deliverance and praise together. Then I thought of praise and I thought of it as a bubbling up. So, I started with swirls at the bottom of the page. I worked my way up towards the top through the center: praise rising up. Then I just started following the lines. I tried to reserve the metallic copper color for anything I felt was a little bit extra, God influencing, glory, or possibly holy.

The little detailed pockets reminded me of anatomy again, but also landscape. The landscape on the left reminds me of volcanoes. It looks like a field of volcanoes, which then reminded me of eruption and bubbling up again. Another of the themes: eruption, interrupting, praise, passionate praise like a volcano. And then I could see it more. It’s a chest cavity again. It’s a spine. The three lines on the top remind me of the Trinity, breath of God, and his praise and deliverance are occurring in the body. Whatever that looks like, praise erupts.

For the top right lines, I was conscious of the fact that our mouth would be praise and singing or words or something, and that it would be coming out of the mouth, breathed by the breath of God. The bottom right corner, a candle holder, and a flame almost reminded me of a bottle shape with a candle on top and a flame: deliverance, praise, or representative of the fire of God. The actual color “orange” is made by mixing the red meaning and the yellow meaning which when you mix red, which is flesh and mix yellow, which is the fire or purification, then you end up with orange meaning the fire of God.


I have some people that I get together with to talk about our creative projects that we are working on. One time that we met, I surprised everyone with a painting night. Painters and non-painters, let’s paint. This is my project from that night. I used oranges as I was in my Orange months during my rainbow year. It reminds me of Fall leaves that fall. Seasons changing. New textures and sounds to rediscover.

Rainbow Year

Here is where we begin the Rainbow Year adventure. In previous years I have had a color for that year that would guide my reflections, my choices, and my wonderings. It would be one color for all four seasons.

This year was different. Thinking about what 2025 was going to look like, as if I could know at all, I had the impression that it was going to be colorful. Hard to pick. A wild ride.

And with that I told my husband, “I think it’s going to be all the colors. My rainbow year.”

Not sure at first if it was going to be all the colors together as in a rainbow for the whole live-long year, or if it was going to have some sort of pattern to it, I decided to follow the rainbow and see what was waiting for me at the end.

Hardly anything is as rewarding at the end compared to all the gems collected on the way there.

So, here I am. Walking through the rainbow two months at a time. Works out really well if we just call it purple. Two months to a color. It’s hard to get away from the original meaning of the rainbow: a promise from God to not totally flood the earth again. With the color meanings and the phrase “promises of God” I set off to chase the rainbow.

So far, I have seen more actual rainbows in the sky this year than I have in the past 10 years. So much promise.

RED

When I was starting this project with the color red, I was a little intimidated to start, because I haven’t made anything with more than a pencil in a long time. Most of the images that I sketch or create are just with my pencil and sometimes a black pen, so diving into color right away felt like anything could happen.

I was quickly discovering that the color that you use really changes how lines and shapes are read on the paper. I couldn’t get away from the thought, “this really looks like I’m drawing flesh.” Red communicates blood, but as I was drawing, I was trying to think of anything else, but it was hard too. Then the next day my dad died. I couldn’t believe how timely this project was.

Looking back at the picture it was hard not to see lungs filling up with blood. I was shocked and wondered if I really could have already started processing my dad’s death the day before. I found myself in a prepared space. And that made me feel safe and hopeful and protected and loved. I didn’t create much more than that in my red phase. The other drawings were more doodles. But I was definitely in grief throughout the rest of my red color season.