in late january, seattle had a snow and ice storm that lasted for days. when i finally bundled up to go outside for a walk, i brought my hasselblad. shooting with slide film and freezing fingers, i cross-processed to make the cyans come out.

but something else came out too: my sweet old film back's signature left-sided light leak. i haven't fixed it yet. maybe i don't have the heart to...i sort of love the way it seeps "unwanted" light onto the film.

i'm left-handed, too. maybe the film back is trying to tell me something.

"forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything. that's how the light gets in."

happy valentine's day!

-laura

last week i traveled to newport, oregon. i wanted to transform a difficult, decade-old memory into light. the ocean, she caught me as soon as i arrived and we laughed together. me, humbled and grateful. in the distance, yaquina head lighthouse set the dark night alight every eight seconds, without fail. something shifted. i healed.

i took some pictures, too.

sunday, november 6, i had the great pleasure of co-teaching "create & restore: autumn photography and yin yoga workshop" with my dear friend, dani dunckley.

after dani led the class through a beautiful 90 minute yoga practice - opening our muscles, hearts and creative channels - i had a fantastic time teaching a brief introduction to photography & light.

we discussed light, exposure, composition, and 'photography from the heart' while eating pumpkin muffins and gazing at the work of master photographers. then, each student went outside into autumn, with their camera.

the students who came to the workshop were all novices, no prior education or significant experience in photography. brave and curious souls! i like to think they left our workshop as artists, armed with new knowledge about how to use their cameras to create.

here is some of the work they came back inside with. amazing. i am grateful, inspired, and looking forward to the next workshop!

i took a morning walk in late september, and have been meaning to post these images for a few weeks now. isn't it amazing how autumn brings change? slow at first, then a landslide into winter.

september. autumn hints in red, hides in green...

i met my newest neighbor today. she is a baby. a corgi named olive. and she stole my heart for a beautiful moment.

the mountains have been on fire all week long

smoke streaks the clear september evening sky as the sun slips - a hot red ball -
into its path

inside i am burning too
kali, the goddess of destruction, is
having her way with that forest in the distance
and with my own essence, with my own heart.
old growth turns to cinder and smoke

"fuego mi espiritu"
i lit this fire.

smoke rises higher on my crazy faith
but the coward inside craves escape. water.
what is burning? what will grow from these ashes?

the mountains have been on fire all week long

"love is patient, love is kind." it was a beautiful day, and i am so glad i brought my camera. congratulations ally and mike!

this morning is september. a powerful wave that has been circling the ocean of my heart since last september (and the september before that, and the september before that, and the september before that, and so on) arrives again. the day hits me in a way that the first of no other month does. why is this?

this year is the same, but different. i am rousing my windhorse today and riding her, riding her, riding her. she has a mane that tickles my face and mingles with my tears as she gallops fearlessly through the wave that is crashing, again, on this shore.