Christmas at Ben's Tune Up

Christmas.

It’s one of those joyous times when families come together to affirm their love and connection to one another. In theory.

“This is the best way to spend Christmas.” The stranger said to me as we warmed our hands around Ben’s Tuneup’s outdoor fire pit on a chilly Christmas night. “Way better than family.”

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not anti-family. In fact, I love my family, and I miss them dearly. But they are on the other side of the country. I’ll be seeing them in February and we will love and connect to each other then. This Christmas, I sat with a motley crew of orphans, enjoying cheer and camaraderie. I provided the camera part.

The stranger and his friend looked like hard working men. Travelers for a living. Some might say they call a truck, home. Some past of which I know not put them in Asheville on Christmas night, gathering around the fire pit. Celebrating the holiday with beers, cigarettes and a gathering of orphaned Ashevillians.

“It’s as if we are two ships passing in the night,” I managed the cliche although I wasn’t really in a talking mood. 

“Exactly!” the man agreed.

It made me think about my travel experiences, and I remembered the joy of connecting with strangers while traveling. It’s something that happens on the road and not so much when you are stationed somewhere. I want to feel that feeling again. I want to travel again, and meet people, and find their stories and document them. The man was feeling it and it made my feelings intensify. 

That long lonesome longing for existential meaning that doesn’t come from any kind of stable anything.

I was in stealth photographer mode that night. Enjoying the smallness of my new mirrorless camera. Figuring out the settings, and enjoying the light feeling of it. Taking candid pictures while pretending I was not shooting people, but only all the pretty lights. (Taking pictures of the pretty lights too.)

There are a few of ways of approaching shooting people this way. In one, they all know they are being photographed and they pose and fake a plastic smile. That’s what you usually see on Facebook, right? Then there is the candid, where you capture people doing what they do and kind of hope they don’t notice. That kind of photography is something I love, and when I tell you why you will know the dark side of me. 

It feels bad to me. There is a kind of rush inside, like I’m doing something bad. Bad like smoking a cigarette, or stealing candy as a kid. (Yeah, got caught shoplifting as a kid too, and that cured me of the stealing thing.)

I mean, I do this photography stuff for a living, but when I’m being paid to spy on people, they are well aware of it and I have artistic license to spy on them all day long. But then there is this other thing, which many people find annoying. I’ve learned that people don’t really like having the camera aimed at them. And yet I do it anyway. I can’t help myself, it actually gives me a thrill. 

Some of the best photography in the world was taken this way. Often with a 300mm lens from the other side of the street. At least me and my camera are smack in the center of things and more than a little noticeable. My subjects are well aware of what I’m doing. I’m only pretending that they don’t see me.

Like the cat who hides in the box with his claws hanging out…

I would love to know what stories these pictures tell in your mind. Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments.

Hoping you and yours are having a wonderful holiday season full of joy and connection.

Catherine Vibert

Photographer. Storyteller.

A Jewel in the Rubble

This marks my 100th post.

Yesterday my friend Daniel Martini posted his latest round of photos on his blog DMartini's Photoblog. Daniel shoots in black and white film, an art that is almost lost to this world. Since I first started visiting his blogs last October, I have been touched deeply by his ability to capture the light and soul of his subjects. He is currently living and working near Mumbai, India. I highly recommend a thorough viewing of the photoblog, and also of his other blog, Faces, Lives, where he writes in depth stories about his amazing experiences and the people he has had the fortune to connect with. The following photo really affected me, and Daniel has graciously allowed me to repost it here, along with this poem:

Run, child, run
Run into your life,
Your playground
Is the stuff of yesterday’s dreams
Now crumbled and turned to dust
In the heat of a melting earth.
You will dance to the music
Banged on tin cans left
In rotting heaps,
You will find the jewels
On the mounds of forgotten hope,
In the smile of a mother’s love
You will dance into tomorrow.

Image Prompt: Angel in Pink

In a shaft of light
An angel rose before me,
The Lady Slipper

Hi everyone. I've been out in the garden where I am finding great healing for my body. All that digging and shoveling seems to be just the perfect antidote for overuse of computer. I'm deeply regretful that I haven't been able to get around to everyone's blogs lately. I think I might have to invent some kind of implant so I can see your blogs whenever I want to from inside my head..., uh, no.... Even if that were the case, I'd still be too busy to read. That garden, you know? This is a CRAZY busy time of year OUT THERE. Anyway, please don't take it personally, you KNOW I love you.

I stopped laboring long enough to go for a walk in the forest with my camera the other day, on a wildflower hunt. You can't imagine my joy when I found this beauty, and her friends.

Your 5-7-5 haiku descriptions are welcome in the comment section. Have fun!

Image Prompt: Cro-ku

Please don't be afraid,
Won't you please come out and play?
The snow is all gone!

Your haiku creations are desired in the comment section. My only rule is 5-7-5 please. Have at it kids!

A Tapestry of Spring

(Double click to see in full widescreen).

A Tapestry of Spring, an anthology
Narrated by Catherine Vibert
Voices of:
James A Murrell
Cindy Gruenwald
Catherine Vibert (pitch shifted!)
and special guest
Sarah Hina

Poems from the blog:


1) Little Girl by Amritorupa Kanjilal aka Little Girl Lost of Rivers I have known

2) All Fall Down by Rachel Westfall of The Waxing Moon

3) Jonquil Time by Karen Nowviskie of Keeping Secrets

4) Ides by Joaquin Carvel of Lyrics and Maladies

5) Promise by Aniket Thakkar of Melody of Dissonance

6) Resumption by K. Lawson Gilbert of Old Mossy Moon

7) Fly Little Bird by Steve Elsaesser of Another Sober Alcoholic

8) Eden by Sarah Hina of Murmurs

Blogger's Prerogative

The great thing about not getting paid for blogging is that you can change the rules. I don't even need to explain why! But I will tell you the intimate details and then you will understand why I am postponing the posting of the multimedia extravaganza.

Deadline for poems was Monday night.

Tuesday night, one reader came to record your poems.

Wednesday was my dad's birthday so we spent the day making him happy.

Wednesday night another reader came to record your poems.

Thursday, up at 6:00 a.m., worked on audio until 7:00 p.m. with several stretching breaks.

Thursday night a glass of wine never tasted so good. Boring TV never was more of a comfort.

Friday morning (now), awoke in extreme pain, my entire right side is tight like a bow from all the computering yesterday. Still haven't done the visuals. And I have PLANS for the visuals, they are vital, they need time to place, exact and refine. And I need at least an hour for critical reflection, after all you can't just slap something together that is going to go all over the internet and have it be a big sloppy mess (did I mention I'm a perfectionist?).

You know what I'm saying? To heck with schedules Aine, I'll post it as soon as I can. It will be SOON. (As soon as I can without killing myself).

Thank you for your patience. I am THRILLED with the poetry, once again thank you all for your submissions. The caliber of your talents is fantastic.

Update: Additional prompt ideas

I just wanted to post an update for the current assignment (see previous post). At this moment (Saturday morning), I have received four entries. None of the entries has been an audio entry, so I want to give a poke to you audio enabled folks. Poke.

Ok, so if you're totally stumped and not in a bad mood at all and therefore can find no inspiration for gloomy things such as irony and doubt, please feel free to write something that absolutely defines Spring's glory.

For additional prompting ideas, think: Regeneration and Renewal. Think Eostre before it morphed into Easter. Think Easter and Passover, and where the heck did that bunny come from anyway? Go crazy folks!

And because I love you all and have realized this will be a holiday extravaganza, I'm extending the deadline to Monday night at midnight. I will post the result on Friday April 10th.

Thanks!

In regards to the photo above, that is the field across the street from whence I get the inspiration for most of my paintings. I often opt to leave out the human structures when I paint, but if you go back to this post I left a few in for good measure. The peacocks live just beyond the trees there.

Image Prompt: Rites of Spring

Dear friends, A couple of bloggers mentioned in my last post that they really did feel the poem expressed was a song. I was able to have the difference between a song and a poem explained to me very clearly by Garrison Keillor, who discussed it on his Valentine's Day show. Since I don't have the transcript handy, I will paraphrase Keillor with apologies in advance to him if I got it at all wrong:

"Thanks to all those who submitted your Valentine's poems, and about them, um (long long pause), how shall I say this tactfully? Folks, a poem can't be about love, because a poem by its very nature contains irony, it contains doubt, uncertainty. If you want to write about love, what you need is a song. Because a song is certain, a song has no doubt, no irony, no confusion, it says what it means!"
(At this point the group breaks into a rousing rendition of "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight.")



Now for today's prompt, we are going to UP the ante. Here's what I would like:

1) If you have the capacity to do it, record yourself reading the poem (to get good acoustics, try taking your recording device to your bed and reading under a blanket (might be needing a headlamp for that). This sounds goofy but all the journalists in the world do it, when you are living for months on end in a concrete block hotel room, you learn how to create a mock recording studio rather quickly. If you can send it via .wav or .aif, that would be preferred, but if you only have the capacity to do mp3, than so be it. Please also send a written copy of the poem when you send the audio file.

2) If you want me to read it for you, then don't bother with the recording issue, just send it to me via E-MAIL (yes Aniket, that means you) at cat@catvibe.com. I will read it for you. I don't need a blanket, I have a recording studio-like place.

3) I am asking for a POEM (not a song!),it must contain the elements of irony, doubt, or hidden meaning. Humor is acceptable. (As is reference to oppression Ms. Jennifer).

4)Today's prompts:
a)Promise or
b)Rites of Spring (or if you want to marry them, both).


Please send your submissions via e-mail to cat@catvibe.com by Sunday, April 5th at midnight. I will likely be posting other things in the meantime and expect to have this posted early next week.

By submitting your work, you give me permission to use it in a multimedia presentation.

In regards to the photos displayed today, I don't have Jason's handy little macro lens, and I don't walk around with a magic tripod to whip out of my purse, but I do what I can with what I have to get sharp and close. And besides, I just wanted to show all you folks in the North that Spring really truly is coming. All these photos shot in the last two weeks. IT WILL COME!


Have fun, and don't be shy!

An Intimate Dance Party

Mr. Aniket steps out and sizes up the ladies on the floor. He fiddles with the ring in his pocket while eyeing Ms. Jennifer's creamy white skin and shock of red hair. Ms. Jennifer gives him an icy grin while taking his hand and pulls him onto the dance floor. Mr. Aniket's hopes for the evening come alive in a swirl of passion...

A twist and a turn and a flip of the toes
A spark of her touch and my heart, it glows
Her hips took a loop
Heart jumped through a hoop
Trip...clash,heart beats...eyes flash, when you feel it... it shows.
--Aniket

But Ms. Jennifer is mad. She knows Mr. Aniket is married, and that he is on the prowl. She has had enough of that kind of thing and is no longer going to stand by and watch people get hurt! And besides, Mrs. Aniket is her hair dresser! She has a plan to trap Mr. Aniket so that he can stop wreaking havoc on the lives of so many due to his lustful, sinful habits of the flesh...

You will forgive us
for paying back one conquest
with another
and making
your men fall
at the bare feet we have
planted to support hips
and bellies and breasts
that rotate
and undulate,
mimicking the dance of birth
(and what comes before).
Women less talented than I
have stolen your men
with the flick of a hip
a stretch of the neck
a burning turn of the womb.
I quiver so fast.
He shivers as
hard.
His eyes follow
a carnal radius
and your white skin
is forgotten.
--Jennifer

Mr. Aniket swirls Ms. Jennifer away as he tires of her ranting, and grabs the hand of a new partner, the shy and startled Ms. Sarah, hoping that maybe this time, he can use romance and love to his advantage in satisfying his carnal needs...

Moonlight, fate knocks,
Shy smiles emote,
They dance lip-locked.
--Aniket

Although it never worked out between them (due to the fact that he was married and she knew she could never be his for longer than a short tryst which was something that was strongly against her beliefs), Sarah thought about that dance with Mr. Aniket from time to time. One rainy day in March, just as Spring was about to burst into bloom, she pulled out the journal where she had poured out her heart that night 50 years ago, and laughed as she read aloud, the hairs raising on her forearms and stars twinkling in her eyes as if she were spinning madly once again, held safe in the arms of handsome Mr. Aniket.

Of our many pieces,
the shyest and freest
shall live on
in that land
where minutes
dance like
scarves
in the wind

and all the shapes in
the clouds
we see there
are the pieces
of you
of me
still partnered
with
a spinning earth
--Sarah

And now, I leave you with this little sentiment:

In the middle of the whirling swirling twirling spinning is a tiny speck of stillness. If I do not return to that speck I will spin off into a distant moon and cause comets to fly off their course. --Crazy Cat

Image Prompt: Dancing

Dear friends,
It seems we had so much fun last week with the image prompt that I have decided to make it a regular weekly feature on my blog. I will post the image toward the end of the week (since I am INFP I am not allowed to actually 'schedule' it, so I will just give you an approximate time), and you will submit your entries which I will post toward the end of the weekend. Once I have posted it, I will not post any latecomers, but you may still post entries in the comment section if you so desire.

Here in North Carolina everybody is always doing some kind of dancing. Down at my local community center, they have a weekly Contradance with live music and it is a very happening event. Hundreds of folks of all ages show up every single week! And this is only one of many dancing events happening all over the county every week. This very Saturday I'm going to a Zen Trance Dance.

But to the task at hand, here is the prompt, have fun, be frenzied folks, this is DANCING we're talking about!! Send to me at cat@catvibe.com to add the element of surprise. I will accept until Sunday March 29th at 12:00 noon. (See Aine, it is possible to schedule something after all!)

All Things Being Equal, II

Thanks everyone for your wonderful creations!

Haiku

Not alone anymore,
Winter bids goodbye,
Springtime of youth.
--Aniket

Life is a secret
no longer, now that you have
found its true essence.
--Christopher

The three muses dance
when your eyes are turned away
twists and turns for you
--Sarah Hina

light passes over
cyclic slide north of center
making all things new
--Qualcosa di Bello

Lines From Underground Streams

I stood
On your decimated ground
And touched
The twisted plants
Where your rivers of lava
Cooled
--Jason

As she drew her pain
emerged in jagged lines
roughly stabbing ‘round
into the naked air
and so the ground lay bruised
and bled its deep torment
beneath a winter sky
which wailed a slow lament
a keening, barren wind
forgetful of the dawn
--RachelW

They danced in
rings of apostasy
until their breath bled
and cut through crust
and mantle and core.
The earth sponged up
a sea of crimson truth,
stain set,
and granted a
weary asylum
in a barren valley
once called Kalam.
--Jennifer

All things being equal,
I'll take the spring,
leaving you the barren branches
and the melting into mud.
I'll take the verdant mountains
and the fleece of clouds above
and leave you with a winter
for your cold and wanting love.
--Karen

Sunset falls on the last day of winter’s calling
The blue belly of the earth rumbles
Calling the blood of Spring forth
To feed the hungry roots of trees.
Naked and decimated, yes
But as surely as night becomes day
They will feed again,
They will breathe with their lungs
And they will dance with their verdant tresses flowing.
Like a whirling dervish twirls,
They will dance again and again
In the circle of life's turning.
--Moi, your host.

And one final entry from my very own mother. It gave me a hearty laugh and she has allowed me to post it:

To the right the creeping, insidious, vegetative attack.
Beware oh leafless ones.
Our time has returned. If you don't re-leaf we will cut you down and burn you in a great May Day celebration! --Ruth Sander

Thanks Mom! You know I love you much much much.