Dunga Brook Diary

The rural life through the lens of an iPhone and notes from the field…

Archive for iphoto

Poppy as circus tent…and a drizzle of George Santayana

Poppy as circus tent...and a drizzle of George Santayana

“To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.” ~George Santayana

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An iphoto from last summer and a flash of Jack Kerouac

An iphoto from last summer and a flash of Jack Kerouac

“I spent my entire youth writing slowly with revisions and endless rehashing speculation and deleting and got so I was writing one sentence a day and the sentence had no FEELING. Goddamn it, FEELING is what I like in art, not CRAFTINESS and the hiding of feelings.” ~Jack Kerouac

I Love My Frickin Tree

Hi,

I hope you can make it to my opening at Cherry Branch Gallery on April 6 (at 5pm), Cherry Valley, NY!

See below for caveat…secret thoughts…things one shouldn’t share…

Deep inside I wish I hadn’t said yes to an iphoto show.

But since I did it is happening, with or without my current feelings about my consent vs content (ie what do I really have for the people?).

Is anyone else out there crippled with doubt when facing a showing of their work?

Thank YOU Kristen Henderson of the Cherry Branch Gallery, you are an angel without disguise. A one in a million human. You never waver in your love of my photos.

There are many more things in the Universe that should be avoided and having your own photography show isn’t one of them.

Therefore, I will go ahead and slap myself so you don’t have to.

See you there.

XO,

V

An iphoto from last summer a snifter of Rilke before bed…

An iphoto from last summer a snifter of Rilke before bed...

“…. it is clear that we must trust what is difficult; everything alive trusts in it, everything in Nature grows and defends itself any way it can and is spontaneously itself, tries to be itself at all costs and against all opposition. We know little, but that we must trust in what is difficult is a certainty that will never abandon us; it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be one more reason for us to do it.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

Brent and Josh of Beekman 1802 and the Mortgage Lifter idea…

summer 2012

summer 2012

 

“What if we use these tomatoes to help other small farmers pay off their mortgages?”

Just last year at the Sharon Springs Garden Party, I saw some of these brilliant green starter tomato plants with the funny name and I thought…hmmmm, Mortgage Lifter.

Of course, Brent and Josh, The Fabulous Beekman Boys, saw them and thought, hah! Mortgage Lifter!

After winning The Amazing Race last fall and paying off their own farm mortgage, Brent and Josh got to cooking up a great idea with their crop of Mortgage Lifter tomatoes.

For every jar purchased they will donating 25% of the profits of this sauce to directly help struggling small American farmers. Maybe even pay off a few mortgages.

If you can, buy a jar, taste a bit of heaven and spread the word.

It is what we country folk do.

If you are a retailer and you’d like to learn more about the fabulous range of Beekman 1802 products, email me…director, wholesale for Beekman 1802!

vicki@beekman1802.com

http://shop.beekman1802.com/Mortgage-Lifter-Heirloom-Tomato-Pasta-Sauce-MLSAUCE.htm

http://www.enjoysharonsprings.com/festivals.htm

Dunga Brook Diary

Dunga Brook Diary

Dunga Brook Diary…there are characters that appear and reappear in this story…there is David, the two horse town lawyer who closed the deal on my $10,000 house, the man I dated when I first arrived in CNY, actually the only man I have dated in CNY…and tonight he did my taxes (second year in a row) and even though he has seen my bank balance disappear exponentially since I have arrived, I’ll be damned if he didn’t look me in the eye with a twinkle that said- you are one crazy bitch from LA but I love you.

Dunga brook Diary: A Year of Seeing Differently

Dunga brook Diary: A Year of Seeing Differently

April 6th at 5pm, opening reception at Cherry Branch Gallery, Cherry Valley, NY.

“When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.”
~Ansel Adams

Leaving LA after 25 years felt like the right thing to do. LA was a pit stop, a very complicated, very expensive pit stop on my journey through life.

On the road from LA to NY, I followed my son in his truck and took iPhone photos through my truck’s windshield. Mostly of his tail lights.

I’m an old hand at leaving. But this cross-country move was different, I was uprooting someone else’s life.

Connor was off to college in the fall and somehow I’d justified it in my mind that moving the day after he graduated from HS in LA would be the best timing for both of us.

I didn’t cry during our going away party, I didn’t cry as we packed, when we drove away, as the hours and the miles across the deserts and mountains ticked by.

Across the plains, the skies were a cathedral of thunderheads, rainbows that went straight up and down, lightning that streaked sideways.

I took photos through my truck window of those things, too.

We landed in central New York to renovate an 1820’s farmhouse that I’d bought, sight unseen, from a post of Facebook.

As my new life began to take shape in the summer before Connor left for university, I took photographs of everything.

By the time the old house was renovated, Connor was at school and I had taken well over 20,000 photographs.

And I had carpal tunnel from uploading and editing all those photos but I couldn’t stop- the beauty of the land surrounding me was astounding.

I cried at night because my arm hurt so bad but the tears were different from the tears that I cried as I followed his red tail lights into those storms, heading east.

Those were tears of joy, realizing what a fine young man he had turned into, a brave soul, ready for adventure, a young man who faced the open road with open mind and heart.

My show at the Cherry Branch Gallery is a celebration of central New York and the life one can find in the middle of letting go.

First Sunday in March, dreams of May…and a splash of S.J. Perelman in your latte.

Dreams of spring...and  splash of S.J. Perelman in your latte.

“A farm is an irregular patch of nettles bounded by short-term notes, containing a fool and his wife who didn’t know enough to stay in the city.”
― S.J. Perelman

A little Erma Bombek and a little Margo In The Kitchen

white gown

Sausage day and she is all in…

“No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed.”
~Erma Bombeck

Dunga Brook Diary, 2/28/13

Yesterday, I sat with Kristen, the gallery director at Cherry Branch Gallery. Prepping for my show, we were scouring each and every picture I have uploaded to FB in the past year and a half, she’s picking her favorites and categorizing them.

There are about 7 folders of pictures so far, my favorite being the “I can’t live without” folder, loaded with pictures that make her sigh, close her eyes and drop her head in exhausted ecstasy. There are a lot of pictures to look through. She might just be tired.

When I see my photos through her editing eyes, I can see we are going to have a kick ass show.

One thing I don’t have many of are “people photos”. This is Margo, my neighbor, making sausage in her kitchen last summer, you can’t see Tim who is half-naked with a tattoo across his shoulder’s that reads, “Grace”. Margo is in this lovely white Grecian gown that looks like it cost about a dollar but you could take her anywhere.

Kristen would drop sigh, drop her head and close her eyes at this photo, too, but she hasn’t seen it yet. When she does she will drop into the folder “special effects” because I photoshopped it. She will ask me to find the original. She likes purity.

And I will. But I couldn’t resist photoshopping it last night, Margo is a work of art.

A big hug and XO to you, Kristen.

V

Wednesday scene from (one dreams) the last snow of the season…

Wednesday scene from (one dreams) the last snow of the season...

I love old barns, each one a snowflake and their elegant dissolve, slow motion as it is, is a thing of beauty to behold.

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