surviving the silence

Home Alone

While my wife vacationed in Cancun with her parents this past week, I spent a great deal of time with my thoughts and myself. I’ve changed a lot since I was a younger man. Then again, I haven’t changed much at all. My wild and frenzied week of being home alone looked vaguely similar to this.

I listened to more records on my turntable at high volume than I have in a decade and even found a few rarities that I forgot I owned. I prepped a few new recipes in the kitchen and made bbq chicken twice. It was delicious. I cleaned the refrigerator. Every single shelf is spotless, including the condiments shelves and the crispers. I laundered all of the Mexican blankets and linens. I drank coffee whenever I wanted and took my medications regularly as prescribed. I watched football, basketball, music videos, and Bogart films.

I danced with my pets. They make me laugh and I’m willing to bet they laughed at me too. I just can’t tell. I made the best grilled cheese sandwich in the world… three different times. I wore a ponytail, a baseball cap, flip flops, $600 slacks that I paid two dollars for at a thrift store, and many nights I wore pajamas before Brian Williams welcomed me to the 6:30 evening news. There was even one night when I sat with the flickering glow of candlelight while reading liner notes.

I did those mundane things like the dishwasher, the litter box, the laundry, the grocery store, and my weekly jaunt to the landfill and recycling center. I reorganized the kitchen cabinets. I captured a few moments with my camera and a few more with words. I taught myself how to do a few things that I didn’t know before last week. I spent time with each of our three children. They’re all adults now, but they’ll always be my children. I saw red cardinals on several different occasions during the week and I managed to catch an unexpected afternoon nap one day, something I rarely ever do.

I talked to my Mom on the telephone and told her I loved her before saying goodbye. Several nights I was in bed before 10, and other nights not until after 2AM. On Saturday morning I served up a wonderful breakfast, just for the pups and I. I made it a point to say my prayers before going to bed, but admit that I missed a few nights. I also cursed a couple times during the week and apologized whenever I caught myself.

Looking back, my week was everything that it normally is on any given week, minus the company.

eclectic breakfast

I treated myself to a few of the things that I love most this morning - music and cooking. As a result, my Saturday morning looked a little like this.

Scrambled eggs with tabbouleh and feta folded in and sprinkled with parmesan; crispy turkey bacon; toasted oatmeal bread topped with a friend's delicious homemade lavender peach preserves; a pot of Puerto Rican coffee; and orange juice. Of course an excellent dining experience could never be had without the right ambiance of music, so my turntable soundtrack included Little Feat, Eddie Kendricks, and Cheech and Chong's Los Cochinos. I do my best to keep the peace around our ranch. So yes, I made enough to share with the pups. The world is a happy place.

I'm almost certain if you Google Map "eclecticism", you'll see my house and get directions. See you for dinner.

days of color

days of color

With snow leaving traces of white on our roof and winter painting the afternoon gray, my kitchen was filled with color this afternoon.

defining self. remembering others.

Defining Self

Between the news I heard last week and the question I was asked this morning, I've spent much of today taking a far closer look than normal at myself.

Following my morning coffee, weeding through emails, and a few good morning kisses from the pups, I headed out the door for Sunday worship. Recently I've missed more sermons than heard and today I wanted to change that trend. It is after all a new year. For me, the best messages aren't those that are simply well prepared and delivered from a pulpit, but instead the ones that suggest deeper thought and self-evaluation. Today was one of those kinds of sermons. The takeaway as I made my walk to the car was quite simple, “what defines me?”

Ironically I’d already begun asking myself this very question on Friday afternoon upon hearing that a friend had passed away. I was shocked by the news and to my surprise, she hadn’t passed recently, Friday marked the fourth anniversary and I never knew. Naturally, I spent the balance of Friday in memory mode. It was a healthy mental time and two days after receiving the news, it continues.

The older I become, I find myself holding onto my past more than I once did. I certainly don't make it a point to live for the past, but I have great respect for it being responsible for much of the very thing my pastor discussed this morning. In all of it’s greatest, worsts, and more than it’s share of mediocre days, my past defines the very man that I am today.

Reflection is a way I continue moving forward. That evaluation of knowing where I’ve been propels me. My father guided and taught me more than his share from the time I was a child through my adulthood. His far too early death nineteen years ago however didn’t erase those life lessons. I still use them… many of them daily.

Although we hadn’t seen one another in several years, the news of Donna’s passing still saddens me. To say that she died too young is such a cliché, but it’s the best I can come up with and the fact is, she did. I’m incredibly grateful however for all of the life and laughter that she brought to mine. Each of them are now blessings.

The passing of time continues to move quicker than it once did, all the while defining me and defining us. Hold onto it.

beneath a blue sky and a green canopy

Moving Forward ©2012

Yesterday marked the end of the first week of 2012. The weather and the day were nearly identical to the week before. Almost to the minute from a week earlier, I drove past a cemetery yesterday that I'd driven by on the afternoon of New Years Eve. On a date generally known for celebrating great hopes and new beginnings, a funeral was taking place. Beneath the largest blue sky was a green temporary canopy providing shade for family, friends, and loved ones who instead were spending this final day of 2011 by saying farewell. There was no champagne, no confetti, and no loud countdown to a brilliant display of lights or fireworks. There was only sunshine, silence, and goodbyes.

I’ve spent the last few weeks thinking quite a bit about those things that I control; and more importantly, those that I don’t. I’m not generally one that’s big on making annual resolutions. A good idea is a good idea. Whether you begin it on January 1 or May 5th is really unimportant. The importance comes from making a healthy decision, committing to the right people, and being honest with myself.

I’ve happily committed to a number of those in recent years. On December 30, I celebrated my second year of sobriety. It certainly would have been far easier for me to wait until January 1. Then I could have bookmarked it as one of those happy, new beginning, resolution kind of things. It couldn’t wait though and neither could I.

I owe it to myself to be surrounded by the right people; to learn how to forgive; to wake in the morning and live the entire day until I lay my head on my pillow at nighttime for a few hours sleep; to smile because I truly mean it; and to move with a forward momentum. I'd like to dance everyday to the music in my head and sing the lyrics ...whether I know all the words or not. I need to leave any random aches from my past where they are and move with one step in front of the other.

I'm responsible for me, so if a large blue sky plans to shine on my day, I refuse to be invisible.

a man. a camera. a day.

New Year’s eve

Twelve months ago I wanted to be challenged creatively every day. It didn't matter if the inspiration was for five minutes or extended five days. From that idea, this daily photo blog was born on January 1. I committed to it. Not only was I dedicated to the process; it was equally important that I share it with the world. Every… single… day.

The daily promise I made to myself was for one year. Today marks day three hundred sixty-five.

Over the year, my cameras and I became best friends, opening my eyes to the world probably more than they’d ever been before. I saw average things that had gone unnoticed for years and I saw remarkable things that I’ll never see again. I met new friends, greeted the mornings, and anxiously looked forward to tomorrows. Surprisingly, I learned a great deal about myself by documenting each day. The images I took became diary entries, my words a road map.

After three hundred sixty-five days, A Passing Glimpse went from seven views on January 1, 2010 to over 13,000 visitors as of last night. Those numbers pale in the corporate world, but for a guy that just wanted to share a new photo every day, I’ll take it. I’ve stood behind my cameras to capture more than 30,000 images using three different cameras. Some of them will never see the light of day, but a few are keepers. It’s interesting to look over a year’s worth of images. They take me back and remind me. They celebrate moments, days, and light.

Upon stepping into 2012 tomorrow, I don’t plan to do much different than I did this year. I’ll continue unfolding my creative path. I don’t have much choice with that. It’s what I do. New Years always invite new direction and with this post, today fulfills the creative promise I made to myself one year ago. I love how this blog has become such a healthy retreat for me. As I look toward 2012, A Passing Glimpse will continue to be the home for my images and my thoughts… just not on a daily basis. Bookmark this blog, share it with a friend, and follow me on my Gary Garbett Art + Photography page for all of my creative updates. Happy New Year.

And yes, I promise to still be creative. Every… single… day.

restoring yesterdays

restoring yesterday

Today was one of those kinds of days. It was beyond fabulous and the weather even more so, especially for late December. I spent my entire day working on the restoration of the 1944 dinette table I gave Karen for Christmas. After eight hours, everything on the table had been totally disassembled including every screw. Following hours of elbow grease, steel wool, vinegar, oil, and sunshine most of the chrome was restored and reflecting its original beauty. I still have a bit more to do, but with a little luck and tomorrow’s weather looking even better than today, there's a chance that we’ll celebrate New Years Day with dinner on our new dinette set.

This full cleansing project seemed relevant with today being my two-year anniversary of personal cleansing and sobriety. Last year this date marked an achievement, a celebration, and a hurdle all wrapped into one. I certainly wouldn’t dilute any of those. December 30, 2010 was more than life changing for me. It was reaffirming for me to re-read my post from last year.

Today however seemed more normal. It was a day balanced with fond memories of my making such a life decision and confession two years ago. I know that I’m a better man for having made that decision. Perhaps not better at math, but certainly far better overall.

As usual I drank my share of coffee today and listened to hours of classic rock while restoring that old table. At one point I stopped to take another sip of java and heard the Who sing out “The Kids Are Alright”. They just might be right.

a calming storm

A Calming Storm

Yesterday, the morning was filled with plenty of rain, a coffee pot of endless cups, a collection of Bogart films, mental down time, and a nap.

A shade of blue and sunshine surprised the afternoon. It opened a window for the pups and I to take a walk to the mail box. We watched our reflections in the puddles.