photography

  • The Icehouse

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    The building that last week's Revive conference was held at is so cool. It
    is a gutted old relic from the early 1900s, a place where they used to
    manufacture 300 lb. ice blocks for refrigerating food in railcars
    heading east.

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    The owner of The Icehouse, as it's called now, is dedicated to the arts and offers the space
    for exhibitions and creative events. One upcoming sculpture show is all about different artistic takes on manhole covers of all things. Seriously.

    Have a look at some of the manhole covers on the
    Icehouse's Facebook page. They're pretty spectacular.

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    The property is crusty and textured and fun. Even the pavement in the
    parking lot is appealing in its chunked up, brightly-painted way.

    If you are cool. And you need a cool place to host something cool, then check this place out.

    The Icehouse
    429 W. Jackson Street
    Phoenix, Arizona

  • Teensy Little Bird

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    When the hospital called on August 17th to schedule a C-section for September 3rd, I got off my computer, and walked and walked and walked. Every day, for days. My best shot at avoiding surgery was to go into labor naturally. (My oldest was born by C-section, so the doctor didn’t want me to go full-term at the risk of uterine rupture.) It was over 110º each of those days, so I would head out at 8pm after the sun went down and make laps around the neighborhood in my fluorescent-orange shirt — the Great Pumpkin.

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    I did it! With four blisters on my left foot and three on my right, our new little bub was born at 1:59pm on Thursday, August 25th. No C-section required — phew. My feet only stopped aching this week.

    I had never gone into labor before on my own, so I stayed in bed that morning longer than some might have, timing my contractions on my iPhone (standard clock app, lap function – awesome). Once I could no longer sleep, I started posting my progress on Twitter; it was a fantastic distraction. We got the kids ready for school and called in my mom to make the rounds, then headed out to the hospital. Of course, we had to make a stop at the store for an SD card for our camera. (I wanted photos!) At that point, my contractions were a minute long and three minutes apart, from start to start.

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    At the hospital, when I walked from triage to the delivery room, my doctor announced that I was at a 7 or 8 and everyone at the nursing station stood and clapped, saying “Wow, you’re still walking!?” I wonder if that’s such a big deal or if they stand and clap for everyone. “You’re dilated to a 1? And you’re still walking!?” “You’re dilated to a 3? And you’re still walking!?” Might be a good protocol.

    I had a big, goofy smile on my face — between contractions. The staff was baffled by me. Sure, it hurt. Of course! I was just ecstatic that I beat the scheduled surgery and that I’d get to meet my new kiddo. Good thing I was in an excited stupor too, because my doctor had to attend to three emergency situations in the course of my labor. She held off on me a little bit so she could help the other mothers get through their ordeals. After she broke my water, everything went very quickly and the baby was born within the hour.

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    And here he is! The inventory is complete. He’s all here, with all his teensy parts. And everything appears to work as it should: cooing, gooing, squeaking, squawking, spitting, squirting, grinning, grunting. He’s so new and tiny that all of these functions still have us mesmerized.

    I’m saving his name for another post — as that’s it’s own story. When it comes to names, I’m a waffler. Why can’t we all go by three for four different names — that would be so much easier! (Well, maybe not.)

    Two days after the baby was born, Isaac and our talented friend, Jared Platt, met up to take pictures. These lovely shots were snapped by Jared. Jared is a professional photographer who travels the U.S. teaching photography workflow and file management to other professionals.

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    Isaac has typed up his thoughts on little bub’s birthday as well — more revealing perhaps than my polite assessment. Here’s his take…


    Read More “Teensy Little Bird”