Looking for a Message

I was never one of those soccer moms sitting around the coffee shop on a Wednesday morning with a group of other moms, all of us in running shorts and ponytails. Talking about how overbooked our kids are for the summer. Instead, I use to be a lone photographer/writer who sat at a table nearby soaking up their conversation like a sponge.

On this day, I may be sitting at a table nearby, but I am only half interested in their conversation. I am busy reviewing the images I have taken so far for the morning with my camera.

For my outing this week - Exercise No. 26 from the book Shooting with Soul - A Message from the Universe. I am searching for a message from someone, anyone.

INSTRUCTIONS

• Photographing messages from the universe is a simple and soulful process. First and foremost, you need to slow down enough to notice what the universe has to offer you. 

The universe is saying it is raining, go sit in the coffee shop and have a snack. Forced slow down.

• Once something catches your eye and touches your heart, pay attention to how the light looks in that environment. Make sure that the message is clear and not obscured by shadows or glare.

No worries there since it is gray and overcast, not a chance of a shadow or a glare.

• Eliminate any clutter from the frame that might interfere with the main interest of your shot and focal point -- then shoot away.

I don't like cluttery frames, so I will be good there.

On the practical side, this should be an easy exercise. I love words. I love typography. But I don't put a lot of stock in messages from the universe. But yet, I do believe that nothing happens "out of the blue".  Maybe that is my way of being comfortable with messages from the universe.

Insight from this lesson

I loved doing this lesson, compared to the first one, while I was doing it. But I find in my contentment with the lesson it is harder to shape fresh insights about photography and about myself. Apparently, I need frustration and angst to write a good story.

Scene & Story - June 2017

Would you drive three and a half hours to go to a coffee shop? No, I wouldn't either, as much as I like coffee shops. But... I would drive three and a half hours to spend an adventure day with my girl in our favorite place - Leland, MI. And if part of that day happens to include sitting on a patio outside the Blue Boat coffee shop sipping Chai Lattes, all the better. 

An InLinkz Link-up

The Coffee Shop Chronicles - A New Beginning

It has been two years since I wrote my last Coffee Shop Chronicle. New coffee shops have continued to sprout up everywhere. Two new ones have opened just this year in my own town, that adds to the three, non-chain fabulous coffee shops we already have.

I happen to be sitting in one of these new coffee houses as I write this. Today is Monday, June 19, 2017 and it's my birthday. I am still one birthday scone away from that momentous half century mark, not that I am terrible worried about it. My forties have been adventure filled, I expected nothing less from my fifties.

Being a Monday, I should be getting groceries and catching up on laundry, but it's my birthday and those things can wait until tomorrow. Instead I started my day with birthday love from my family, a walk at the beach, and then an hour long massage. And now here I am, at The 205 Coffee Bar, preparing for a return to The Coffee Shop Chronicles.

I have no idea if I will be able to write these stories again, even though many things have been pointing in this direction the past several months. I am afraid, afraid that the stories that once were so popular amongst my readers, will not be the same. But they can't be the same, I am not the same, a lot of life has happened in two years. I am a different writer than I was two years ago. I must remember; you can never go back, your only options are standing still or pushing forward. I chose forward.

Recently, I read an article in the Spring issue of Artful Blogging by Nicole Knutsen, titled Playing Shop Girl. In the article, she has me imagine my blog/website as one of many storefronts on internet Main Street. She asks the questions: How would you design it? What would you sell? Who would be your customers? Those questions got my creative mind churning. These were questions I had read before, but I always struggle with the answers. My stumbling block is what to sell, selling not being my focus. I started making a list of answers to these questions, and suddenly it became clear. Just because it's a storefront on internet main street doesn't mean it has be a retail gift shop.

This week I am beginning to build my website. I have known for a while that I have outgrown this space. As I continue to receive publication writing requests, I need more than just a blog, I need a website. The new site will be paisleyrainboots.com, I bought the domain name last night. While I can't serve you a cup of freshly brewed coffee, I can design a website that feels like a coffee shop. A place with industrial concrete floors and a gallery of my painterly altered photographs on the white shiplap walls. Large, reclaimed barn wood harvest tables with maps spread out over them will fill the middle of the shop.  We will gather around those tables planning adventures together and sharing stories. At the far end of the room will be a large, field stone fireplace surrounded by leather couches and comfy chairs. On one of the couches will lie a floppy-eared, furry friend, ready to listen to anyone's troubles in exchange for gentle strokes of the fur (I know you can't have dogs in places that serve food, but it's my coffee shop). This will be a place to return to again and again, a place of creative inspiration.

The new website will also be the perfect place for the return of The Coffee Shop Chronicles, stories from other coffee gathering places as I work to create my own virtual coffee shop. Eventually this blog will move there too, because I am nothing without my photography. It will be hard to leave this place that I have called my creative home for the past five years, so many stories of life, growth and loss. There will be a link to here on the new website: My Blog - The Early Years, because I can't let it go completely.

I will keep you posted when the new website is up and running and the first new Coffee Shop Chronicle is ready to be published.

You Gotta Wait For It

Once upon a time my husband and I use to have date days. One day each month we escaped, taking turns planning surprise outings. It was great for our marriage.

I don't remember many of the places we went, and I didn't journal at the time, although now I wish I had. But one particular date day does stand out in my mind, and its not because I planned it. No, it was because we both contributed to it without even knowing it.

One day in early summer, my husband brought home a brochure for the Pierce Cedar Creek Institute, a nature center with seven miles of hiking trails. He had been to the Institute on a work sales call, and picked up the brochure while he was there. He showed it to me as soon as he got home, saying "we should go here sometime, they have lots of scheduled activities, including a firefly viewing party". As with most "sometime" things the brochure was placed in a pile and promptly forgotten. Until one day when I was sorting through that pile. It was my turn to plan the next date day, and since it was now October with fall in full technicolor glory it seemed the perfect time to go.

The day of our date we set off as soon as we dropped our daughter at school. My printed turn-by-turn directions tucked discreetly into the driver's door pocket. I had planned it so we would be there as soon as the gates opened.

We had a great morning and early afternoon, at one point stopping at a bench beside a lake to eat the snack I had packed in my small backpack. But eventually the snack wore off and we were hungry, we had hiked quite a bit of the seven miles of trails. We decided to drive into the town of Hastings, about nine miles from the Institute for a late lunch. Not knowing the area, I let my husband drive us there. He had been to a brew pub there once for work, and wanted to take me there.

Now eight years later, I found myself back in the small town of Hastings on a solo adventure. I stood in front of the same brew pub, but this time I noticed a whole new world of details that photography and writing have taught me to see. I parked downtown, a short distance from the pub. I didn't want to rush the memory, I wanted to walk slowly and savor all the things around the pub, things I was unaware of last time.

First order of business was to look for a coffee shop. A coffee shop tells a lot about a town, and a lot of small towns don't have anything besides a Starbucks located next to the strip mall on the outskirts of town. The best small towns still have a local coffee shop in the heart of their downtown. I was fortunate, this small town did. I paused outside on the pavement, trying to determine if this was my kind of coffee shop, when a gentleman headed for the door said to me "Go on in, best coffee in town". Well, who can argue with that, so in I went. Adorable coffee shop located on the street level of an old Masonic Temple. Oh, how I wanted to go upstairs and explore, especially when the sign outside said there were offices to rent. I am certain there will be a return visit to this coffee shop.

Back out on the pavement with a 16 oz. chai latte in hand, I set to wandering.

Here is a glimpse into my thoughts while wandering:

• I wonder if I look more like a local if I have a coffee cup in my hand as opposed to my dslr slung over my shoulder.

• I wonder what that yellow building is over there...

• That looks like an old train depot... 

• I love old doors.

• A his and hers shop, how practical.

I have found I need a minimum of two hours in a town to get a good feel for it, and the only way to explore is on foot.

I had put in my two hours of wandering time and was back at my car, feeling I had discovered everything of interest, but also feeling disappointed. There had been no defining moment in those two hours. The defining moment for me is something that gives my heart that fluttery feeling. As I was driving toward the end of main street preparing to turn around and go back the way I had come, I saw it...the defining moment. A river walk that actually went past decaying industrial grunge buildings, my heart was a fluttering.

There was a convenient parking lot right next to the bridge leading to the grundy buildings. I grabbed my dslr from the back seat, not caring if I looked like a tourist anymore, and set off for more wandering.

The defining moments, the heart fluttery moments, are the moments that I get lost in. Although I do try to stay aware of my surroundings and who is around me. So it came to be that I noticed the gangly high school age boy leaning against a telephone pole across the street, watching me. A lady with a german shepherd came walking by, and the boy stopped her to chat and tell her what a nice looking dog she had and give it a scratch behind the ears. I dismissed him, figuring he couldn't be too harmful if he liked dogs. The lady walked on, the boy resumed his watching, and I returned to my moment.

Shortly thereafter I heard him cross the street behind me, turning around I saw that he was now leaning against a telephone pole about ten yards away. I had two options here: continue to ignore him and let him watch, or make eye contact and acknowledge him. I chose the latter. He was a brave boy, a curious boy, he asked the question I have been anticipating forever "What are you photographing?". Even though I have been anticipating the question, I failed to find the words to express what truly lies within my heart.

He was looking at a chain-link fence, an overgrown yard, brick buildings, windows encircled in rust, and couldn't see what I saw, the defining moment, the heart fluttery moment. Maybe if he saw my photographs he would understand, but then again maybe not, and maybe it doesn't matter.

Through Her Eyes - The Writings of a Photographer

The Idea

The idea first came to her on a gray, washed-out Friday afternoon while sipping hand-crafted cocktails with her daughter at a new distillery in the city.

The morning had been spent shopping for necessary girl items, followed by an early lunch of shareable delicacies such as: charred eggplant, heirloom tomatoes, and the best shrimp cocktail she has ever sunk her fork into.

After lunch they prowled some nearby antique shops. Neither of them needing a single thing, but always on the lookout for that unique treasure they couldn't live without.

What she had been waiting for all day though, was their visit to the distillery. Her daughter had been there a couple of times for work events, and raved about their unique, hand-crafted cocktails. Being still fairly new to the hand-crafted spirits world, she was eager to continue to expand her horizons.

The distillery is located on the city's west side, a section she had never explored before, at least not yet. She had only, in the last couple of years, mastered the east side of the city. She found there, an endless array of things to photograph and write about, including her favorite coffee shop. She had settled in there quite comfortably. But she had a feeling that was all about to change, as they drove along streets that she had always been curious about, but had only ever viewed from the highway overpass.

She easily found a parking space behind the distillery, it being only mid-afternoon, it was a little early for the after work crowd. Entering through the side glass door, she was greeted by a modern, open space, filled with warm tones in the polished wood floor, and wood tables and chairs. The warm wood contrasted beautifully with the modern black metal trim. There was an overall cozy neighborhood pub feel.

She and her daughter seated themselves at a two seat, high-top table near the large plate-glass picture windows at the front of the restaurant. She loved all the soft, diffused natural light coming in through them, it was her favorite kind of light.

Their server was soon over with the speciality drink menu, and the happy hour appetizer list. With so many choices, she defaulted to her daughter for suggestions. Finally she settled on one that sounded like her, Oliver's Ocean, maybe not the Oliver part, but definitely the Ocean part. The drink consisted of gin, fresh squeezed that morning grapefruit juice, lemon, rosemary, and a salted rim. Oh how she loves a salted rim, her tongue can flick out, capture a few granules of salt, and be back in her mouth before anyone knew it. While her daughter ordered her drink, she pondered the appetizer menu, she was afraid the eggplant, heirloom tomatoes and shrimp they had for lunch might not be enough to stand up to the hand-crafted spirits, and she had to drive home yet. So she added to their order a tempting mushroom spread.

While they waited for their drinks and appetizer, she turned her attention to the world outside the plate-glass windows. Across the street was a small, square, brick 1960's building housing a BBQ joint. At the large, front window counter sat a man and his son, each simultaneously taking a bite of their bbq sandwich, and then each wiping their mouth with a white paper napkin with their right hand. There was a story there.

Next, she noticed the older teenager sitting on a bench inside the plastic bus stop enclosure in front of the BBQ joint. He held an iPhone in his hand and had ear buds firmly planted in his ears. There was a story there.

Suddenly around the corner of the distillery building comes a hi-lo bearing an enormous plastic bin filled with a sloshing brown liquid. Her daughter spots the hi-lo as well and states that they make all their spirits for the distillery here on site. There was a story there.

The final image before she turned back to the table, and their soon to be arriving drinks, is the image that ignites the idea. A weather-worn man in a tattered, gray tweed overcoat rides past the window on his bicycle, heading the opposite way of the automobile traffic in his lane. Behind his bicycle he pulls a laundromat-style wire basket on wheels, inside the basket is the fine wire frame of a once ornate chandelier. There is a story there.

The idea finds oxygen and bursts into flame. She has grown bored and uninspired within the safe confines of the coffee shops. The experience, with only slight variations, was basically the same no matter where she went. What if instead, she sat at the lunch counter in the big front window of the BBQ joint, wiping her mouth with a white paper napkin after each bite, and recording what she saw from that side of the street. What if she sat on the bench inside the plastic bus stop enclosure and wrote about what she saw, and maybe even be brave enough to take a ride on the bus. What if she sat at this very same table by the large plate-glass window, inside the warm, wood-toned distillery and captured life as it rode by outside. There are stories here.

She makes no promises, there will be no numbered editions, only the stories, as they come to her.

Fernwood Botanical Garden - A Hidden Jewel

Back in May, we were on a road trip to The Great Smoky Mountains for a week long vacation. We were almost to the border of our great state of Michigan when I spied the coffee brown highway sign depicting a local tourist attraction. I am always on the look out for those brown highway signs, always looking for new places to explore with my camera. The brown signs hold a promise of something spectacular, unlike the cheap and tawdry billboard signs that advertise cheap and tawdry tourist attractions. As we passed the sign, I grabbed my phone, opened up my Day One Journaling app and wrote down "Check out Fernwood Botanical Garden off US-31 near the Indiana Border". I am much more likely to remember things if I write them down, and the phone is the handiest place of all to record things.

A couple of weeks ago, I come across that journal entry when I was scrolling through vacation notes. I mentioned to my daughter, Mallory, that I wanted to take a trip to Fernwood on one of my adventure days. She begged me to wait until she could go along. Last week she surprised me with a trip to Fernwood as part of my Mother's Day gift, which has loving become known as One More Thing Day. One More Thing Day started back when she was in high school, my husband had given me a new robe for Mother's Day and Mallory's part of the gift was a pedicure. She had typed up this adorable note titled One More Thing, which listed out the pedicure, a picnic lunch and ice cream afterwards. Every year now, all I want is a One More Thing Day, a day she plans out for us and is filled with priceless time together.


Every year begins with a note, listing the places that we are going to go for the day. Instead of reading the note in the car this year, we decided I would read the note at a nearby park.

These are the activities listed on this year's note:

• a morning chai at your favorite local coffee shop
• an afternoon wandering the gardens at Fernwood Botanical Garden
• an evening dinner out at The Stray Dog

We started the morning at a "new favorite" coffee shop of both of ours, Lemonjellos.

Since it was a special day, I decided to deviate from my usual chai latte and trying something new. Mallory raves about the lattes here. I settled on a Chocolate and Blackberry latte and a Chocolate and Raspberry muffin. Chocolate and sweet juicy fruit, how could I go wrong. We spent a leisurely hour sitting at one of the outside cafe tables sipping our lattes, eating our muffins, and discussing life. 

At the top of the ten o'clock hour, our lattes gone and all that remained of the muffins were a few crumbs on the plates, we decided it was time to set off for the gardens. Mallory was a little apprehensive about this part of the day, being a history major she had done some research on the gardens, she found their website a little uninspiring. I think this is the case more often than not for small places with no budget for a full-time, or even part-time website and social media manager. They get by the best they can, with what they have, and what volunteer power they muster. So don't be too quick to judge a book by its cover. 

Fernwood Botanical Garden was a precious jewel waiting to be discovered.

As soon as we entered the gardens, we spied an amazing herb garden. Mallory has been the keeper of our ever expanding herb garden at home this year, so she instantly fell in love with this impressive collection.

Eventually, I was able to tear her away from the herbs so that we could continue to explore. I saw a sign for the Tallgrass Prairie area and led us off in that direction. I love prairies. I think it is all that open space, the colorful wild flowers, and the big blue sky that call to me. 

The TallGrass Prairie also provided a great backdrop for some photos of my beautiful girl.

So many beautiful things to see here. I definitely want to come here in the spring for the lilacs, and in the fall for autumn color. Fernwood is open year round, but I think I will pass on winter. 

There were some trails that we wanted to explore, but those will definitely have to wait until fall, once all the blood sucking mosquitos are dead. 

By this time it was near two o'clock and we were getting hungry and definitely thirsty. We thought we would stop at the cozy on-site cafe for some lemonade and iced tea before hitting the road for our late lunch/early supper at The Stray Dog. Our very friendly waitress seated us outside on the patio, and then proceeded to tell us about the special of the day, a house made veggie burger on a pretzel bun. I love anything on a pretzel bun, so it didn't take too much convincing for us to decide to stay in this lovely, quiet spot for lunch and save The Stray Dog for another day.

It was the best decision of the day. The veggie burger was so good. We finished our lunch by splitting a piece of carrot cake, delicious. Sorry I didn't get a photo of that for you. You will just have to imagine lush carrot cake, with pineapple mixed in, a sweet but not too heavy frosting, with toasted coconut sprinkled on top. The perfect way to end another perfect One More Thing Day.

Kalamazoo - Urban Explore

Does Google Maps know the personality of the owner of the phone it is running the app. on? Does it look at the photos in the owner's camera roll and see this...

and instantly know that she would much prefer to travel a road like this...

Now if Google Maps was to look at my husband's camera roll it would see this...

Yes, that would be nothing. Google would know that he is definitely a destination person and it should get him there as fast as possible. Yet when we travel we usually use the Google Maps on my phone, and it always has us taking the back country roads way into our destination. I know it drives him crazy, but it makes me so happy.

I went urban exploring this week, but Google Maps was still kind enough to take me there via a few backroads.

I have just finished this book, The Idle Traveller - The Art of Slow Travel by Dan Kieran.

The author is a big fan of the slower modes of travel; train, car, bus. Transportation that will let you see the country. In particular he likes walking, you can't get much slower than that. I had already thought about doing more walking adventures before I read the book, but reading it completely convinced me. 

For my first adventure I chose the city of Kalamazoo, MI. Kalamazoo is a little over an hour from my house, depending if you take the expressway, or the backroads. Backroads, add another half hour, only because there are things to stop and photograph along the way. 

Thanks to Goggle Maps I drove into the city without a hitch. All the streets have parking meters, so instead of being tied to coming back to the meter every hour, I chose a parking lot in the Haymarket Historic District, received my parking ticket from the delightful parking assistant, who kindly pointed out that I could dispense the ticket myself from the machine just by pushing the button marked TICKET. Feeling slightly dumb after that, I found an empty spot far from her booth to call mine for the next few hours. 

 I grabbed my gear from the backseat; small daypack with wallet, tissues, hand sanitizer, tripod for iPhone and remote shutter release for iPhone. I also threw in the latest Bella Grace Magazine to read at lunch. I have no problem eating lunch alone, as long as, I have something to read. I also slung my Canon dslr across me with the wide angle 17-55mm f/2.8 lens on it. Such a great all purpose lens. Geared up, I set off.

My first destination was the train station.

The original depot was built in 1887 by the Central Michigan Railroad, replacing an earlier structure. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1975. The inside is filled with gorgeous vintage details, there were too many people to get photos though, without being completely obvious. I still like to keep a low profile in places like that. No need to draw attention.

After leaving the train station, I noticed this building across the street, such lovely detail and those windows, be still my heart.

Kalamazoo abounds with beautiful old buildings like this, all the easier to stop and appreciate if you are doing a walking tour of the downtown.

I saw this mural on the back of one of the downtown buildings and it reminded me that there were a couple of highly praised coffee shops in the area that I wanted to scout out.

On the way to the first coffee shop I got distracted by this though...

I felt that excited, fluttering feeling inside me the second I laid eyes on it. An empty, for sale warehouse on the edge of downtown with outstanding grunge factor. I will come back here on an overcast day, more photos need to be taken. I was limited to where I could stand and what I could include due to bright sunshine.

I was reluctant to leave the warehouse but the sun was only getting higher in the sky and I was starting to feel some hunger pains, breakfast had long worn off. As I looked around I realized I knew exactly where I was, having been over here on a brief explore last fall. The desired coffee shop should be just on the other side of this warehouse. Granted I had to walk back around the block to get there, but I was right.

Water Street Coffee Joint, the place was quaintly adorable. I was so happy to secure a table by the windows, natural window light is a photographer's best friend. Lunch of a Prosciutto Panini and a coke was delightful.

After lunch, I set off to explore the Architectural Salvage store I had seen earlier in the morning, but it hadn't been open yet. These places don't open until 11 a.m., so no need to be an early bird, or you can go to the Coffee Shop first.

A bounty of treasures lived here. I want to go back someday when I have more time and when I am not carrying my big DSLR around, having to be careful not to bang it on anything. 

After the salvage store and the antique store next to it, I set off to wander more of the main downtown area. I wandered for blocks but always kept my starting point fixed in my mind. If I did get lost, I did have Google Maps to get me back to the car since I knew where I parked. 

I was starting to get thirsty again, so I happened to notice another coffee shop on the way to a block long park. Coffee shops are like a magnet to me, so in I went. Since it was pleasantly warm out, I decided on an iced latte (my first ever) Vanilla and Brown Sugar. It was delightful! 

Iced latte in hand, I set off for the park. I noticed as I got closer that churches pretty much lined the perimeter of the park. Beautiful old church buildings made of stone, with huge, detail rich wooden doors. I noticed one church that had huge, red wooden doors and front steps that were in full shade. A perfect spot to set up my iPhone on it's tripod and take some self-portraits for the photography class I was taking at the moment. A momentous occasion, me drinking my first iced latte. 

Of course, nothing in life is that simple. I noticed a lady sitting in her car at the curb watching me. I didn't think too much of it, doing self-portraiture tends to gain some attention. I got the focus set on my iced latte and then positioned myself just beyond it. Just as I pressed my remote shutter release, two of the enormous red, wooden doors of the church swung open and stayed open. I tried to act casual and carry on with my photo session. Then the lady that had been sitting in the car got out and came up the steps, giving me a questionable glance as she walked past. I still act casual and carry on. After getting some shots I stand up to go check my phone to see how they have turned out. I glance up at the open church doors and see that people are gathering for a funeral. I decide it would be best to move on before more people start showing up, as I took my phone off the tripod mount it slipped out of my grasp and tumbled down the steps, an "oh s**t" may have inadvertenly escaped my lips. Needless to say I quickly gathered up my gear and scurried away.

I did find some more awesome church doors, but this time I refrained from taking any selfies.

After finishing wandering around church square it was time to set off for the car. Scout was at the groomer's getting a bath and haircut, and it was time to go pick him up. 

I loved wandering the city on foot. I felt like I really saw things and enjoyed them traveling at a slower pace, and I never felt lost, but I do feel like I know the city a lot better now.