New Camera

Although the basis of my Land O' Make Believe artwork starts with photographs - 90% of which are my own - I have never once proclaimed myself to be a photographer.

Photographers are people who know what they are doing.  They know what f/stops are and aperture stuff and all about correct ISO.  I have to be honest and say that I could not care less about any of that stuff and I hate having to think about any of it when all I really want to do is simply click.  Which is why I am a phototaker and not a photographer.

That said, I love cameras.  My cameras are portals to my otherworlds; I take them with me whenever I leave the house and in return they take me to record Magic In The Ordinary in the pictures that I take.



I have three cameras, two of which are my primary cameras: a point and shoot Nikon Coolpix P500, and a Canon Rebel T3i.  The third is a tiny little Canon PowerShot that is about 12 years old.  I still use it, mostly when we are out on the motorcycle because it fits in my back pocket.  It still takes terrific pictures, too, but they're not really suitable for use in my photo art.

I mostly hate the Canon.  It takes beautiful pictures most of the time but it has major drawbacks in my picture-taking world.  For one, it's heavy (I have arthritic hands).  For two, no matter what shot I want to take I always have the wrong lens on the camera which means lots of fumbling...and cursing.
For three, it's persnickety and I have no patience or tolerance for anything animate or inanimate that's fussy.

I love the Nikon.  It's like having a really good and reliable friend.  I point, I shoot, it delivers.  But it has its limitations and mostly they fall under the Quality category.  It takes beautiful pictures but loses points for detail and speed.

So I bought a new camera last week.  A Nikon P900 with ridiculous zoom.  We took it out this weekend to shoot some stuff and I'm not yet convinced that I like it enough to keep it.  Preliminary thoughts are that the ridiculous zoom is not great and will require a tripod and I am in no way a tripod kind of phototaker as I never stand in one place for any length of time whatsoever.  Today I'm going to take all three cameras out and shoot with them so that I can compare, then decide.

In the meantime, here are some test shots I took with the D900 this weekend all around our area here in Really South Jersey:

example of the poor quality with the ridiculous zoom - will play around more with it to see if it improves

old rusty safe on the beach...we were wondering the story behind this

most perfect tree ever

On an aside, I hope these pictures help to dispel any (stereotypical) image you might have of New Jersey.

I Actually Won Something

Do you ever win stuff?

I never do.

Most of the time I don't bother to enter to win anything because I'm positive that it won't be me who wins the thing...

except when I do enter and I do win!





On Sunday I was shopping with my daughter in the greatest gourmet grocery store that ever existed, Rastelli's in Marlton, NJ.




We were out having a fun shopping day in the Marlton area which is where we usually do the majority of our shopping because I live in Really South Jersey or RSJ.  If you live in or are familiar with RSJ then you are aware that we have more abandoned grocery and other stores than we do functioning ones. When you drive around RSJ you will find yourself saying things like "oh look, that used to be a (insert nationally known store name)" or "I can't believe there used to be a (insert nationally known store name) here."
You would think that being that RSJ is, in fact, an actual part of the Great State Of New Jersey - that I am so proud to be a native of, by the way -  that we would have the amenities that are rife in the other parts of this state.  

You would be wrong.
Like my Italian father used to say, we got ugatz.

This man is probably from North Jersey

Although we do have this:

Jack & Coke with your Grand Slam Breakfast?  No problem!

Anyway, Rastelli's.
Rastelli's is in South Jersey which is completely different than Really South Jersey (RSJ).  South Jersey (SoJ) has everything you could ever want.  It's a 45-60 minute drive for us but worth it.  I'm not kidding about the RSJ thing; down here is like stepping back in time which is both a great thing and a not so great thing, depending on the circumstance.  Like, we have no traffic in RSJ because there's not a lot to drive here for.  We like it that way.  We don't mind driving a bit to get to where the stuff is because the trade-off is that we get to live where it's peaceful.
When I lived in North Jersey (NoJ) for the first 20 years of my life, I had no idea that SoJ or RSJ existed.  Not kidding.  Those were just places you drove through on the Turnpike on your way to Florida.  North Jersey and South Jersey/Really South Jersey are worlds apart.  Worlds!
There are raging debates that still go on between the North and South except they're happening right here in New Jersey.  For example*, the ongoing war over what to call various things such as sub sandwiches vs hoagies.  Pork roll vs. Taylor Ham.  Philadelphia Eagles vs. NY Giants.
Yes, I know neither team have anything to do with New Jersey in their name but it's a regional thing.
South Jersey is close to Philadelphia so SoJ people align with all things Philly.
North Jersey is close to New York so NoJ people align with all things New York...except the NY Giants play in New Jersey so bonus points for that.

I just reread this and realized that if you are not from this region you are thoroughly confused right now and I probably had too much coffee this morning.

I also realized that, man, I can go off on tangents, can't I? 😛

So back to Rastelli's!...

We were shopping for gourmet everything while sipping on what was probably the best cappuccino I ever had, when we saw a display for a huge gourmet basket giveaway.  On a whim, we entered. Two days later they called to tell me I won this:

Whoa.

I can't even unwrap it.  It's so pretty.  And big.  And chocolate-y.
I'm going to let it just sit there in the middle of the kitchen for awhile so that every time I walk in there I see it.

I like to give props to people/places that deserve it - especially local places and/or small businesses - and I'd like to use this blahg to do so when applicable so if you go to Rastelli's, here's what I can personally recommend:
Cappucino
Fresh pressed juices made to order while you wait (I order my favorite: Beet/Carrot/Apple)
Brussels Sprouts w/pecans from the deli area
Sushi
Steaks
Cheese and olives from their extensive selection
Bread - oh my goodness do they have bread!
Beautiful bakery items

I'm confident that no matter what you get there it's going to be good...and I'm not saying that because I won something from them.  On a scale of 1-10, I genuinely give them a solid 10.


 

*Bold items is where my allegiance lies.  If you say "hoagie" in front of me, I will smack you.

Friday With Andrew Wyeth

For the most part, I am not prone to adulation of famous people.  When I was younger I did have intentions of getting Jimmy Page to marry me but that didn't work out and I moved on which was probably for the best because of that whole black magic thing and the heroin problem.  So, no, I am not one to fawn over famous people.  If I saw one walking down the street I would remain unstirred. I've hobnobbed with some pretty famous people whose names I won't drop because ewww name-dropping and also because I'm not trying to impress you by saying that.  I think I was let in to their circles because of my indifference.  You breathe, I breathe, let's get a drink and chat.

Despite the fact that my preference is always for people, places, and things that are non-famous, there are a very few for whom I hold deep admiration for despite their notoriety.  Which brings us to the Wyeth's.

I liked Andrew Wyeth before I knew who Andrew Wyeth was.

Which brings us to Brandywine.



If you are unfamiliar with the Brandywine region of Pennsylvania I would probably advise you to immediately stop what you are doing and go there right now.  But then on second thought, no, please don't go because I am terrified that too many people will discover its immense greatness and beauty and peacefulness and serenity and then it will go from being a genuinely magical place to being overrun and therefore ruined by tourists.  So don't go there after all.  I'ts boring, you'd hate it.

Brandywine, or more specifically, Chadds Ford, is where the Wyeth family hails from.  I'm not going to get into their history - there's a zillion websites with that information so just do a Google search if you are so inclined.  I have been traversing that area for years and a bunch of my photographs that have turned into my artwork have come from all around there...all of this long before I knew anything of the Wyeth's and their deep connection with that region which is what I meant when I said above that I like AW before I knew who he was.  You see, me and Andrew...well, we like the same things.  That's what I discovered when I finally did discover him and so he has a permanent position on the very very short list of Famous People Sharon Is In Awe Of.

For awhile now I have been wanting to sort of walk in the footsteps of AW on his home turf.  I can't figure out why I haven't before now since I live relatively close to the area.  Maybe the time just wasn't right.  They do tours of his places - like, the kind where everyone gets on a tiny bus and gets driven here and there and everyone moves around shuffling and stuck together as one entity while some volunteer points things out - which someday I'll probably get around to doing but that's not in any way how I really like to do things.
It might be pretty easy to figure out that I am not a tour bus kinda gal.

JP had a rare day off yesterday and I had to go to the Wilmington gallery where my next art show will be to discuss a few things.  Naturally the plan was to head to Brandywine afterward since the gallery is about a 10 minute drive away so we set out for a bit of adventuring and some lunch.  I knew where we were going, I just had to find it which proved to be really easy.

Yes, we went to AW's studio yesterday...

Andrew Wyeth studio

...and it kind of felt sacred there.  It's hard for me write that because it can be interpreted wrong. I mean, if AW himself were there and I ran into him - which would be kind of weird being that he's dead and all - I most certainly would not gush over him. But when you are there, right where he created so much wonder and magic...well, yeah, sacred.

If you have any familiarity with AW's work, you might know a little something about Kuerner's Farm and it was quite great to also be right there yesterday.

Please note how great the sky is.  We were so lucky to have a perfectly cloudy and mild winter day. Brandywine is so perfect when it's cloudy and when it's winter.  It's beautiful in the summertime, too, but you will miss a lot at that time of year...and it's a lot more crowded.  I'm certain there are a lot of people who would disagree but AW wouldn't have been one of them:

We tried to go to the Brandywine Battlefield also because it, too, is a very special place - there's a feel to it that I can't describe - but it was closed for the season.  The battlefield is a very short distance from AW's studio.

I took the above picture because of the below picture.

Photo courtesy of the Christian C. Sanderson Museum, (c) 2016

At this point we got hungry.  There is no other place to go when one is having a Wyeth Day in Brandywine than Hank's Place, where AW was a regular at their counter.

Hank's Place, Chadds Ford, PA

Please don't miss Hank's Place if you visit Brandywine even if you're not having a Wyeth Day.  Do you like good, real food?  Do you like comfort food?  Do you like diners?  On the weekends they're super crowded so choose your time accordingly.  And if you go in the warm months, take note of the amazing flowers outside that Hank's Place will be covered in. Brandywine River flows right behind here.

Of course we had to sit at the counter.  There's only a handful of counter seats and we had our choice of them even though the place was really busy.  I sat at the end, right under this picture:

Framed picture of Andrew Wyeth above the counter at Hank's Place, Chadds Ford, PA

On the far wall you can see some of the Andrew Wyeth art prints that hang at Hank's Place.

I would be remiss if I didn't tell you what we had for lunch, right?


We had BLTs and a shared plate of french fries.

I am a french fry connoisseur and consider FFs to be a basic food group.

On a scale of 1 - 10, I give theirs a solid 9.  Yup, that good.

I also got bread pudding to go.

My mother and grandmother were diner waitresses for years and years and I grew up on Elizabeth, New Jersey Greek diner bread pudding so if it's on the menu I must have it.
Hank's is good but it's missing raisins.

I can't wait to go back and try some of their Fancy Strawberry Pie when it's in season!

It's true: the people there are genuinely friendly

Confession:  I snooped at AW's studio  After lunch we went back and I had to go around to see if the door sign was still there.  Much to my great delight, it was, which made me jump up and down when I saw it.  I have the same one hanging on my own studio door.

Door to Andrew Wyeth's studio.

Please note that a very nice man from the Brandywine Conservancy rolled up in his truck and very nicely told us that we couldn't be there so we skedaddled.  I told the nice man "sorry, I'm a fan" and he said "yes, I understand, so am I."  Very nice.

Please also note that if AW very still around I would never in 10 gazillion years have barged in on him and if you know a living artist please don't barge in on them even if it's in your own house and they are just in the next room or upstairs or in the garage, etc.  Interruptions are bad.  Interruptions break the spell.

Never, ever break the spell.

I have lots more pictures that I will add at a later date but I wanted to add this one before I closed this post:

It might not come across very well here on Blogger, but take note of the colors in the above image.
This is not the best picture in terms of quality but you can get a feel of the winter Brandywine Valley/Chadds Ford landscape.  I think it kind of shows a little bit of what might have influenced AW's paint palette.  Do a Google search for AW or go to his website and look at his art; I think you'll see it, too.

Overall it was an exhilarating day.  I can't wait to go back and I am so lucky that my house is an hour away from all of this.  I have two months left of beautiful winter starkness before the landscape there starts changing and hiding all of its glory inside of its full bloom.


 

Ennui Is Pronounced On-Wee; Isn't That Fun To Say?

I am deep in the throes of a massive attack of ennui.

Do you know what ennui is?

I will provide a visual aid for you so you can mentally imagine it:

This is me sitting in a dark room on a sunny day, hand resting forlornly on face as I  periodically let out a heavy sigh

There's a bunch of reasons for this apathetic mood of mine.  Would you like to know what some of them are?




It's okay if you don't because I'm going to tell you anyway 😀 because writing about stuff is very therapeutic and you should try it soon, too, if you don't already do it.

1. Politics. I used to care about politics.  I was even enthusiastic about this past election season for a tiny bit of time.  Then it turned into a circus and I HATE anything circus-related to begin with

and then everyone got stupid about everything...
then a whole bunch of people started wearing pantsuits and pink hats which made me feel really embarrassed for them and some of that happened right around the time that I realized that I was screwed because there was no way in hell I was voting for either of the candidates because I was mostly embarrassed about and for both of them which left me feeling kind of hopeless...
and then the celebrities - oh my God, the celebrities!* - came crawling out of their holes and they were all foaming out of their mouths which made me hate them even more than I already did (do) because anyone who knows me knows how much I hate celebrities and they were all just spewing such stupidity and amazing self-importance and cult-like, Scientology-worthy adulation for one of the candidates and being all hypocritical as they pretended to be all kumbaya in their beliefs while calling for the head of the other candidate and not recognizing  the mass hysteria they were caught up in and did I mention their amazing self-importance?... and I'm over here being appalled that people actually give celebrities credence because they're famous and have a lot of money as if that means anything which makes me feel embarrassed for all the zillions of people who hold these people up on some kind of pedestal and are horrifyingly being influenced by them...and the other candidate is making me feel embarrassed for him because he tweets and makes me actually write the word 'tweets' as I write about him which makes me embarrassed for him and for me because "tweeting" really??  I mean, come on...how does one take another human being seriously if they tweet.  It's so embarrassing.

2.  I have had to stop following people I admire because they need to share their political thoughts with the world.  And that confuses me because why the hell would you want to alienate an entire segment of people who admire you?  I am talking about non-political authors and creators and business owners and regular people, etc.  I don't need or want to know their politics.  I want them to shut up about their politics.

3. What happened to all the independent thinkers?  Why is everyone a lemming now? People used to be funny about a million things but now almost all of their humor is politically-based which gets old reallllly fast, by the way, and is giving me headaches because of all the eye-rolling I'm doing.  How do I get everyone to start thinking about real life again and stop drinking the "pick one political side or another" Kool-Aid?

4. Snark.  Everyone is snarky now about everything.  Ad hominen attacks are the order of the day.  Don't like what someone says? Attack them, call them names, make fun of their appearance. People are proud of themselves because of their superior sarcasm "skills" (e.g. Saturday Night Live, which used to be a funny show that brought people together to laugh together and have fun together.  Keyword: together).  People try too hard to be funny by using sarcasm and personal attacks ad nauseum.  Meanwhile, I'm over here wondering why no one is addressing the a**hole epidemic.

5.  Social media everything. "Did you see what I posted on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Etc?" or
"Look how great/popular/funny/successful I am because a bunch of people clicked the Like button." Ugh.

6.  Cell phone everything.  As I write this I am unsure of the exact location of my cell phone since I haven't used it since sometime yesterday afternoon.  It is downstairs somewhere.  On the charger?  In my handbag? In the car?  No clue.  Yes, I am an alien.  A proud, unaddicted-to-my-cell-phone alien.

7. Labels.  Oh my God I am so sick of the idiots who label people for.every.little.thing.



Be careful about opening your mouth or having an opinion that differs from the masses about anything because you will absolutely be labeled a racist/bigot/homophobe/sexist/xenophobe/misogynist/islamophobe/classist/elitist/ageist/anti-semite/etc.    
But wait...
do people even have opinions that differ from the masses anymore?!  Am I the only one left?

8.  Spending an excessive amount of time pining for the way things used to be:  simpler, kinder, funnier, less partisan and divisive.

Heavy sigh...

Sharon
 

Let's Talk About...Responsibility

Let's get one thing straight: I hate responsibility. I abhor it.

This might come as a surprise to some who have known me for awhile because I used to be a ᴠᴇʀʏ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴsɪʙʟᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ who did ᴠᴇʀʏ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴsɪʙʟᴇ things.
For example, there was that raising a kid thing, which I managed to do without too much damage, I think.
Then there was that corporate job thing in which I was an editor for publications that were worth gazillions of dollars.  I pulled that one off pretty good for a pretty decent length of time but the truth is that I only pulled it off because I saw it as one big stupid game.  Or maybe like I was an actor playing the role of Big Time Editor In Charge Of Important Publications.  That wasn't actually on my business cards but it should have been.

Guess which one was me

Another reason I was successful in my acting career as VIP Editor was because I know big words and lots and lots of ridiculous words, I memorized all the important business-like catch phrases, and I can ad lib my arse off.  Seriously, I'm like the Ad Lib Queen. I could participate very successfully in meetings by saying things like "the flotsam of the jetsam is that the perpendicular velocity of the publication with the mass media marketplace - et al - means that our bottom line can be subjugated to the equanimity of our fait accompli which means, of course, that we are thinking outside the box."

End result?  I kept getting promoted.

Me, in my big time editor officer.  Wearing a tiara, of course.

Getting promoted was fun because I kept getting nicer offices and even nicer paychecks.  It was also kind of fun to watch my peers try to figure out how I was getting higher and higher on the oh-so-important (to them) corporate ladder with only a high school degree in an industry in which 99.999 percent held impressive degrees from impressive colleges and universities. Of course I even had my own staff and a few of them held master's degrees which made a few people's heads nearly explode.
So much fun.

But I was bored and I also did not like the constant pressure of having to make sure that millions of dollars worth of books got published on time.  It was all way too adult for me.  Obviously I was good at it but no actor plays the same role forever, right?  So I did what any "normal", level-headed responsible  person would do:  I went to bartending school.  But that's a story for another time.

Let's stay on track here.

I am not doing very well with this being an adult thing and I've been in the adult age bracket for a long time now.  I noticed decades ago that I have very little in common with other people my age who are all about being an adult.  Recently we bought a house after years of renting.  It's a great house...no, it's freakin' amazing. And it has caused my already very active anxiety level to go through the roof.  Because we own a house now.  There is a mortgage, there is a furnace that needs to be replaced, there is an invisible tether that only I can see which means that I cannot simply decide to move to Connecticut or Maine or Canada because I like the landscape there or they have good take out.

And my poor husband.  Man, he deals with a lot being married to someone like me.  You know that opposites attract thing?  Truth.  We adore each other but we are polar opposites in a ton of ways.  He is blissful in home ownership, sleeping like a baby as he drifts off thinking lovingly of his low interest mortgage rate.  Meanwhile this is me, languishing in it as I worry myself into exhaustion that will lead to 3-4 hours of insomnia-riddled sleep:

And then there is the guilt.  Oh, the guilt!  I mean, how dare I be anything less than ecstatic about owning an amazing home?  How dare I quake in my boots while my husband busts his butt to make this all happen?
Which, of course, leads to the inevitable daily beat myself up sessions:
I am bad.
I am ungrateful.
Why can't I be like other middle aged home owning ladies?
I should cut my hair off so I look more like them.
Why do I still insist that all my shoes are platforms? Grown up ladies don't wear platforms, they were sensible adult shoes.
What exactly did my husband mean when he said I am definitely related to the guys from the Sonic commercials?
I need to apologize to him for being an anxiety-ridden stress mess (who cracks up a little too hard at the Sonic commercials).
No, I need to grovel.
I should probably not share all the thoughts that are in my head with him.
Why was this month's electricity bill so high?
We should turn off the lights and do everything by candlelight. That might be fun.
And on and on and on...

Which leads me right back in a full circle way to:

Overall, all I really want to do is make pretty pictures and read.

 -Sharon

My Personal Festivus

• It is 3 days until Christmas and I cannot wait until it is 364 Days Until Christmas!  And I feel guilty about feeling that way and then I get mad at myself for feeling guilty about that.  I am stuck in a holiday-induced vicious circle. I am a Scrooge.
• If one more person writes “Only 3 more SLEEPS ‘til Christmas” I’m punching them in the nose.  The word sleeps annoys me beyond measure.  See “migraine headache” below.
• I had an energy audit done on my house the other day which took 4 hours and involved the setting up of a fan contraption in the front doorway in which they seal the door, insert a large and powerful fan, and then run it for awhile while taking readings to determine something about the air in the house.  The fan was so powerful that it popped open the attic crawlspace door in my office upstairs and seemingly sucked all of the attic dust out which of course flew all around the house which is resulted in me having a headache for the past three days that evolved into a migraine today.  I am fiercely allergic to dust.  Instead of shopping today and/or doing other holiday-related things in an attempt to make it festive for those whom I love, I took medication, took long hot showers, drank a ton of strong coffee which had no effect since I also took about 4 naps. Ho ho ho.
• You cannot imagine how magnified the littlest annoyances are when one has a migraine.
• The sinus/allergy OTC medicine that I have been taking for about 2 decades for my migraines has been discontinued.  Now I have to buy the three ingredients separately.  I am on to their game.
• In the meantime, my mother is supposed to come here on Christmas Eve.  She will tell anyone who will listen that she cannot eat anything because of her stomach issues but grilled me (no pun intended) about what we are going to eat that night and then shot down everything I suggested with an “that’ll probably kill me” comment.  Then she asked if I was baking anything.  Ho ho ho. 
• I am wise enough to know that baking while in the throes of a migraine is a bad idea for everyone which is why I did not attempt it.  I actually attempted nothing today.
• I still love going out and driving around looking at Christmas lights – or as I like to call them “Ostentatious Displays Of Illumination” -  which we’ve done a couple of nights this week, so there’s that.
• I am aware that it is still a wonderful life.

 -Sharon

Anniversary #7

2009 was a year of life changers for me.  They seem to come one right after the other, almost all of them bad.  Some of them really, really bad.

December 7th, 2009 was another life changer day.  This one, though, the complete opposite of bad.
It was a Monday - cold, grey.  We chose that day because he always had that day off, no other reason but convenience.  Low key was how it was going to play out...partly by choice and partly because we had been on the receiving end of non-stop drama and weirdness* - some of it from people who should have been part of the day - so we chose to distance ourselves from the madness and not have anyone ruin the day.

So we went and got married on a cold, grey Monday afternoon in December.
Just the two of us.

Our "wedding attire" was t-shirts with 'Bride' and 'Groom' on them because it made us laugh.

We waited to be called in to the judge's chamber on a hard wooden bench in the hallway of the Centreville, Maryland court house.  Sounds terrible but it wasn't.  We sat there giggling and excited, creating fun as we always do together.

Man, can we laugh together.  Anywhere.

Our witness was the sassy court clerk who took a liking to us. We anticipated a quick and cold-ish repeating of whatever had to be said to make it official and got instead a warm, long, and very, very surprisingly thoughtful ceremony.
I remember that we were both genuinely humbled.

We left, hand in hand, still giggling.

We drove to Annapolis for our "reception" ...

...which we decided would be at Galway Bay Irish Pub because it was $5 burger night.

 Afterward we walked and walked hand-in-hand through the Christmas decorated streets of Annapolis.

Later - and still - we agreed that it was the best wedding either of us had ever been to.
Real, raw, perfect in its imperfection.

Just like us.

Here's how I want to finish this:
I love this man.

Like I've never loved before, I love this man.
I respect him...which is a first for me.
I know his past and he knows mine and neither of them are pretty or perfect but still we stand together, looking at each other and being able to say yes, I understand, I get it.
Never, ever being afraid to tell each other anything.  No fear of scorn, rejection, persecution.
No one can make me as mad as he can...until we both crack up because we realize we're being ridiculous.
No one can make me laugh as hard as he can...priceless in my book.
This is the man who saved my life twice.  This is the man who will tell you that I saved his.
I am fiercely protective of him and I will scratch your eyes out if you hurt him in any way.
My life is profoundly and boundlessly better because he is in it.

I am beyond proud that he is my husband.

Happy Anniversary to us.