A Diary of Small Things

64 // via screengrab: Early delivery

I love ordering things online. There’s something about the anticipation of getting a parcel in the mail, then getting it. And with online tracking, it’s even more fun.

I recently bought an overcoat from Target. The estimated delivery time was next week. So, I logged in today to see which exotic part of the country it was flying through next.

Turns out it’s probably sitting on my doorstep. And just in time for the really cold weather. Sweet.

62 // via http://mk2weddings.blogspot.com: Genius

I’ve had two epiphanies in my life this year: One was during a white chocolate ganache dessert at Volt, a restaurant hear in Frederick. The other was this morning while looking at photos by Mary Kate McKenna, a local photographer.

These moments are hard to describe, being a sort of emotional reaction. How shall I couch this? I’m a cynic, a realist pretty much convinced that if we can’t experience something in some way, it doesn’t really exist.

I thought food, for example, is just nature’s way of maintaining our bodies. There is nothing special or extra-sensory about it. You eat. You go. That’s all. Then I ate at Volt. The food was good, sure. Bryan Voltaggio’s proved he’s a world-class chef from his time on Top Chef.

Then I ate dessert. I was no longer there, in the conversation. I wasn’t present in the restaurant. It was just me, this taste and … well, I guess I entered a state of what Zen masters call “no mind.”

Now, that’s genius. The epiphnay was understanding, experiencing, what all these obnoxious food critics go on about. (If you’ve ever seen “Ratatouille,” you’ll remember the scene where the food critic is instantaneously transported back to his childhood by a single taste of ratatouille). Food, I believed, couldn’t possibly do that.

I believed the same thing of pictures. What can a static image teach us about ourselves?

Looking at the photographs taken by Mary Kate, I experienced something profoundly different, but every bit as much a moment of enlightenment. Mary Kate and my family spent about an hour on Carroll Creek for a photo session that I wanted to give my wife for her birthday.

Mary Kate sent through a link to the photos today. Here’s the thing, they are awesome. Philosophers, mainly of the Continental school, have this concept called authenticity. It’s kind of a subjective term, but it’s to do with capturing the truth of something, and in doing so, making it subjectively genuine.

The photographs I saw had that authenticity. The pictures of my children made me see them as I always see them. That may sound common or garden, but in reality it is not. Pictures don’t capture the truth of what we see everyday. They are, supposedly, a moment in time, divorced from all the preceding and antecedent moments. But these still moments of my children held in them the absolute and authentic timeless essence of my kids.

That is to say, they captured something eternal. In 20 years, in 50 years, I will be able to look back on these photographs and say with absolute certainty, “This is my son and this is my daughter, and this is how they were in this moment, and countless other moments like them. this is them in a moment of truth.”

It takes a true artist to be able to give the experience of authenticity. It takes a true artist to provide us with a transcendence that allows us to touch on a thing greater than ourselves, something immutable and eternal.

61 // via Nikon Coolpix L12: The Icing on the Cake

For the first time ever, I iced a cake. Two, in fact, one for my son’s birthday, one for my daughter’s. Mickey Mouse, and some sort of Cars scene. It was frustrating, but fun, and the cakes turned out to be more icing than sponge.

A cake’s progress:

59 // via Free Clip Art Junction: Happy Birthday, Bug!

My son is 3 years old today and lights me up. Nuff said.

60 // via drawing and Samsung Instinct M800: Out of the Box

Here’s to dreaming a big dream. I’ve had an idea, and who knows if it’s going to work out. Maybe it won’t. Maybe I’ll never get to the point where it’s anything but words on paper.

But I’m crazy passionate about it. I can’t say what it is right now, obviously. I don’t want to give it the kiss of death.

But at least I want to throw a nod its way, let it know that I haven’t forgotten it, that incrementally I’m building toward it. The foundations are dug. Soon, the bricks will go in.

Here’s to dreaming a big dream. Here’s to those crazy dreamers who dream them.

58 // via Fuji FinePix F480: Handbags in waiting

Alligators. Vicious bastards, alligators. And that’s why they’re cool.

If you want to see ‘em up close and personal in the wild, although at a convenient more-than-arm’s-length, there’s a spot along the famous Alligator Alley that runs east to west connecting Miami to Naples.

We took the kids there, first time for my son, second time for my daughter (she was really too young to appreciate it the first time).

It’s a short boardwalk, maybe 70 yards long, that sits above a long canal next to a gravel road. (People actually live along it, amazingly enough.)

Alligators just gather there and slumber right alongside turtles and other wildlife. Tons of them, lurking in the brackish green water. With teeth. Big teeth.

Here’s a map. If you’re ever in south Florida, you can go see for yourself. It’s about halfway across.

View Alligators on view in a larger map

57 // via screengrab: I am @cgcumber

Twitter is like my new favorite thing.

Really. You may not understand it, you may question its worth — fairly enough — but Twitter users (or tweeps) are having a conversation, and you may well not know about it.

For a journalist like myself, Twitter is a way to engage in conversation with an audience. It’s also a good way to find out about cool stuff going on, or just to meet interesting people.

You can see my Twitter feed by scrolling down to the bottom of the page.

56 // via Olympus C860L: Retirement planning

This is Polperro, a small, very small, Cornish fishing village in England. This photo is from 2002, my last visit. One day, I want to perhaps retire there. A quiet cottage, maybe a room. And I’d like to sit for a while, think back on my life and paint watercolors.

55 // via Olympus something or other

Ah, mea culpa, to quote the Latin.

It’s been far too long since I’ve posted. That’s not to say I’ve had no happy moments recently, only that I haven’t had time to write them up. The happy moments, I assure you, have been plentiful.

About four weeks ago they began in earnest when I went on vacation to my parent’s place in Naples, Fl. The gated community my parents live in boasts (at least it did when they bought it) the largest pool in southwest Florida.

And a pretty nice pool it is, with an island and waterfalls and cabanas and palm trees. And this trip was filled with so much: alligators; staring contests; beard growth; quiet evenings on the lanai.

So, here it is: today’s happy shit (to use my friend Sarah’s title for this blog): vacation. Ah, let me slumber restful ‘neath a shady tree.