ode to the SLR

it was old and battered, a pentax k-1000.
my sister passed it along when she upgraded to something sleeker.
it was manual everything, no automatic anything. i was in my early 20s, newly enthralled by the magic of darkrooms and images and the power to save what i loved enough to capture.
looking through that lens was how i came to understand what it means to truly focus. the rest of the world fell away as my eye tumbled into the object it had found.
all that mattered was the conversation we had without words: its beauty beamed like a lamp into my brain. my eye registered and clicked YES and zoomed in, closer and closer, then back a little, from fuzzy to sharp, distant to intimate, until it was framed just so.
then and only then did i press the shutter to save it.
the memory returned yesterday, when i was working on a short story i'd looked at too long to see properly -- so put away -- and only recently took out to try again.
it worked. but only after i turned off all distractions and looked deep into the thing through the lens of focus.
when i let the rest of the world fall away, i heard the tiny click of a new door opening inward.

in honor of mamalove

i got up this morning wanting to write about this day and then got a juicy bolt of deja vu when i remembered i already had (two years ago on myspace). reprinting here 'cos it says what i wanted to say.

sunday may 11
Current mood: thoughtful

it's about to be mother's day, which for most folks is the day to take your mom out to brunch, or bring /send her flowers or a card. you can't escape it with the relentless onslaught of commercials on the radio or TV, the massive card displays in stores, the general hype.
if your mom's still with you, that's probably not a bad thing -- it's easy to forget to send things on time, and who doesn't like a reminder for something you actually want to do?
if your mom has passed on, it comes with a bit of a sting. you think of all the things you wish you could bring her, even cards that would be just right for this year, if you could figure out what address would actually get them there.
i know a lot of folks who plain hate the day and think it's just one more commercialized excuse to make money off people's guilt or love or willingness to spend. some folks don't even notice, or care.
but if you think of all the ways the very idea of MOTHERING runs through women's lives -- whether they are women who raised kids who surround them each year, or kids who live far away and don't get home much, or kids who just don't keep in touch as much as their moms wished; or women who didn't raise children because they weren't able to have any, or waited too long and missed the window, or lost what children they carried to miscarriage, abortion, adoption or divorce -- perhaps you get a larger sense of all the things the very word encompasses.
now i think of it as MOTHERS Day, without the apostrophe, as a celebration of the plural rather than the single. it's an opportunity to salute all the women, still here or passed on, who loved unconditionally, as best they could, whatever young person was in their life, for whatever length of time -- whether a child they bore, or one they raised or a kid they just happened to love. that includes grandmothers, aunts, teachers, other people's moms, sisters, friends, colleagues and strangers.
on mothers' days past, my church used to hand out flowers to all women, young and old, which struck me as both insightful and kind, since it hinted at past and future and the fact that many women's stories of MOTHERING aren't as easy to know, unless they tell you, but the simple odds are that most women have, or one day will, give of themselves to a child or children they love.
i'm glad there's a day that people remember, and tell the women in their lives THANK YOU, or i noticed / remembered / and wanted to make sure i told you so.
cheers to all the women who have mothered, whether it's something they are honored for or not; to all those who are mothering now, as well as those who have yet to mother but consider it something they will one day do. sweetness and honor be yours, in memory and gratitude.