I have been reflecting a lot on “doing the right thing” (higher moral ground?) versus what one might have the “privilege” of doing as an autocrat or totalitarian. Privilege, from the dictionary sense, as defined as a noun:
Some 60 (OMG!!!) odd years ago, my mother required me to take piano lessons. I believe, though I can’t swear to it, that my sister may also have been required to take the initial lessons but managed, at her more mature age, to wiggle out of them. She was, after all, some 8 years older than me. I hold her accountable for that today. <grin> I am still thinking of ways to get even <grinning louder>.
I have always loved taking pictures. I grew up with a mother who had to document all important occasions with her Brownie camera. I wanted more. I splurged and bought a Polaroid in my college days. Continue reading “Photography as a hobby – taking it to the next level”
The stress of four years on the Board of Directors at my condominium association, as well as corporate President, took quite a toll on my physical & psychological health. As several professionals I dealt with through those four years have said, “No good deed goes unpunished”.
I “retired” in 2012-13 from both my travel agency and my social media marketing consultancy. We bought a condo in Burien WA in 2013 and the move was strenuous and complicated. From making the offer to closing to moving and settling in, it was not an easy transition.
A morning of people watching in a coffee shop …..
A cool fall morning in Seattle is like no other place. Go into a coffee shop, have a cappuccino and watch as the city awakens. People watching can be a most interesting hobby.
There is the homeless person who buys a mocha latte in the coffee shop so (s)he can sit quietly in the corner and sleep in relative safety. Across the room the unemployed, well-suited, well-soled job seeker, with his nervous cup of java, reviews yet one more time his resume and the job description. Will this be his lucky cup of joe and his lucky day?
In going back through old documents, I am finding things I wrote quite a long time ago. This is one retrospective I wrote as a catharsis nearly 30 years ago:
Funny what will imprint on the mind when the waves of life come crashing in on your shore.
“A young woman stands under an ironwood tree on a remote Pacific island and the sound of the wind through the ironwood is neither melodious nor discordant. It is the sound of her precarious hold on her marriage flushing down the toilet.
What makes a person so intent on controlling both the horizontal and the vertical that she will put herself in such a position? Her husband was to go and visit with his lover to tell her he is going to try (once more) to make his marriage work. His wife, the young woman, stands under the ironwood tree feeling alienated and out-of-control as she watches him clasp the “other woman” into his body to say good bye.”
That scene just isn’t working.