If I have to choose a physical location to associate with the word ‘home’, it’d be Surf City, NC.
Becca has grown wonderfully as an artist and model.
Today is a celebration of the art that is photography.
I don’t ever want to feel like that about my work or my art, so I’ve decided to put the 365 project to bed.
Mama and papa took off when I got up to go get the camera, but the three babies hung out and let me take their picture.
I made it safely to Indiana, and I’ll be here for an indeterminate period of time.
It’s funny how much or how little some things change.
Seems like the storms are more than just metaphorical, lately.
Sometimes there’s just one answer to a problem.
Sometimes I see the oddest things in the weirdest places. I’m going to just chalk it up to my artist brain.
No, not that Pop. Just pop, the expression.
Looks like I forgot to take an actual photo that day, but I did take a selfie.
Collegiate Gothic, 16th century China, and a New Jersey Trash Panda
I’m worn out, but I’m trying to get the posting caught up. But I’m skipping a post here and there for a reason.
Yesterday was the day my Zeus became mortal. Yesterday was the day Olympus crumbled.
These days, feel-good stories seem few and far between, so I thought I should definitely share this one.
I’m feeling pretty relieved about things.
I didn’t care much for those socks anyway.
I’m not the neatest painter…