Friday, April 27, 2012

The Buddhist Temple of Tampa

My father instilled a great love of word religion and culture in me from very early age. His curiosity about life often leads our family into some surprisingly exotic adventures. For example, one day we ended up at Wat Mongkolratanaram - a Thai Buddhist Temple located in Tampa.


The stunning golden detailing of the temple was the first thing we laid eyes on as we strolled up from the parking lot. The temple itself is very small but completely breathtaking. 


A serene Buddha greets visitors along the walkway. 


On Sundays the grounds are open to the public for a large scale Thai buffet. 


My sister Jenny reverently carrying her bowl of soup down the steps. 


A view of the sunlit picnic area from the dock. 


These signs were placed randomly all around the Temple area. Each one was hand painted in English and Thai and had different saying on each one. "True love never runs smooth" is a personal favorite of mine. 


The colorful Thai desserts. 


My sisters Jenny and Liz. 


A small sculpture overlooking the river. 


Another shot of the Buddha statue set against the trees and temple roof. 


Orchids on display at the market. 


Golden dishes ceremoniously laid out with pennies.


While I was at the Temple I got used to seeing all of the inspirational quotes painted on the wooden boards. As I was walking around I came across I metal folding chair propped against a tree. It had Thai script written across the back. I was intrigued because it had no English translation and I'm not sure that it was even meant to be seen. I still thought it was beautiful in its peaceful isolation. 


One of the Buddhist Monks ambulating around the perimeter of the Temple. 


My sisters sitting on the edge of the dock watching the catfish gather as the afternoon approached.


I was lucky enough to snap a picture of this little boy who was so enthusiastic about feeding the catfish that he got rice all over himself. 


Jenny enjoying her time on the dock. 


A sample of the vegetables being sold at the market.


One last view of the temple lit by the blazing afternoon sun. 

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Siren

I was driving from Orlando to Tampa to visit my family. My nerves were shaky as they usually are on the drive west. Ricocheting between my optimism and my anxiety to get back to my life in Orlando, I am usually blind-sided by the turbulent nature of the home I grew out of.

I focus my eyes on the road as my speedometer reads close to 80 mph and I try to navigate the screen of my iPod by touch alone. I usually prefer to drive at night. I'm not used to all this traffic and sunlight blaring through my windshield. My nervous energy is in full force as I keep hitting the "Next" button on my iPod. I don't even know what I'm in the mood to listen to. I try to subdue my fears about the rough waters ahead.

Then I hear the soft melody of his guitar and my hand finds its rightful resting place across my lap. I can feel my back roll into the drivers seat as I take a long, deep breath.

I have many of his songs but the one that came up that day was his version of "I'm on Fire". Although he lacks the gruff vocals of The Boss I have to admit that I always liked his version better. He has the capacity to be innocent, aware, haunting, and vulnerable all in the same breath. I surrender all control of my environment with the exception of my hand on the wheel and let his voice nourish all the empty space in my car.

The endless fields of Florida brush start to resemble gentle ocean waves undulating in slow motion. Cotton clouds speckle the great blue expanse. As I stare ahead at the vanishing point of the highway in the horizon I realize this how ancient sailors must have felt. Lost in my travels, driven by the instinct to move, with a siren's song stuck in my ears. If I didn't know any better I could have sworn that the edge of the Earth was waiting for me just beyond my field of vision. Yet as I get closer and closer to the edge my fear becomes less and less. My Siren does not call me to my doom. His voice makes me feel like I can conquer all obstacles. His song is all the permission I need to center myself. Another deep breath and I regain tranquility.

I could sail off the edge of the map listening to a voice like that.


Monday, April 9, 2012

Animal Kingdom

Curtis has an immense love for animals so for his birthday we went to Animal Kingdom.


As we were waiting outside the park to get tickets I spotted this man checking his phone. I loved that the leaves of the palms resembled falling rain. 


A sleepy little Spoonbill.


This was the arena on which the staff held a bird show. I loved the architecture and the giant quilted canopy. 


I decided to take a picture of this large Tambaqui (a.k.a - Pacu) as it swam past me. I didn't realize until later that I had caught my own reflection within the silhouette of the fish. 


I love the way the colorful fish playfully arch over the water fountains. In a strange way it almost reminded me of the stylized paintings on cave walls. Ancient and without words the message is still clear - "This way to water". 


I affectionately refer to this particular Painted Stork as "The Old Soul". Curtis and I were bouncing from one enclosure to the next when this unlikely creature caught my eye. He was only about two feet tall with a fence between us that was just a little taller than he was. I practically could have reached out and touched him. He would have been easy to overlook, and many people continued to walk by without even slowing down. But their was something so commanding about this little bird's presence. All the other Painted Storks were further back in the enclosure but he was right next to the fence looking out as if he was standing guard. Even as I approach he did not move away. He only tilted his head so he could get a better look at me. I sat down in front of him so that we could get a better look at each other. His face was rich with texture and intensity. We sat still and examined each other for a long time. I saw many animals that day but "Old Soul" still stands out. 


One of the  monkey's climbing to his look out tower. 


A soft pink Hibiscus set against the ruffled leaf of a large palm. 


I took this photo of Curtis as we were riding around the park. I love this photo because I was able to capture the moment of anticipation right before he saw one of his favorite animals. 


A little gem of a Kingfisher perched during the sudden downpour. 


Curtis at the Hippo tank admiring some passing ducks who seemed at home in all rain. 

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Pinnacles

A pair of trees in a shopping plaza spike and curve up towards the oncoming dusk.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Honesty

As I have grown into photography I noticed that I like taking photos of people in all variations of moods. I also noticed that in becoming more of a photographer people began taking less photos of me. I realized that most of the photos I have taken of myself are on the Photo Booth app on my computer. So I decided to turn my inquisitive nature on myself and share some of the photos I have taken of myself over the past five years.


One of the very first photos I had taken using Photo Booth. 
Me: "Mom, let me show you how this works"
Mom: "Where do I look?"


I ended up using this photo as a jumping off point for one of my art projects in college. I was upset because at the time a dear friend of mine was in the hospital battling cancer. I was using the art project as a way to work through some of my fears. I had worn the ring to my grandfather's funeral a year earlier. I took hope in the symbolism of the bird being a carrier of souls to the heavens. Thankfully, my friend made a full recovery. 


I've always liked this photo because of the way it emphasized my green eyes. The color seems endless because the reflection from the window in front of me lightens my pupils. 


I generally gravitate towards blue and green colors. At this particular apartment I was living at I had painted two of the walls teal and my bed sheets were dark blue. I don't wear a lot of pink except for this one sweater that I own. I found it so comforting and I just wanted to be surrounded by it. 


I took this photo of myself shortly after my dog passed away. Her life and death had a profound impact on me and I never wanted to forget how much I loved her. 


This photo was taken during my printmaking class. For the majority of college I was making digital art for my Graphic Design classes. During my last semester I took a printmaking class and I forgot how much fun it was using my bare hands to make art. Even though I constantly got splinters from carving the wood and the black ink would stain my skin for weeks I refused to wear gloves. I proudly displayed my hands like a badge of honor. 


Coming home from a DRIP show covered in paint. 


I was upset one day but I don't remember why. I think when the camera is pointed at you your immediate response is to either smile or look away. I chose to do neither and be completely honest with myself and my emotions at the time. 


I loved the warmth and light that filled my room that day. 


Fresh out of the shower. 


I was all dressed up and ready to go Swing Dancing. I decided to take a photo of myself because I usually don't wear much makeup; let alone eye shadow. I took a bunch of pretty photos but I always liked this one best. 


My crazy hair in all of its untamed glory. 


And then there was the day I rescued a turtle in my apartment complex. 


Simple and sexy. 


Returning home from the Indian Holi Festival absolutely covered in pigment powder. 


This is me getting all dressed up to see Daniel, one of my coworkers, perform in the Orlando Ballet. I love this dress because it makes me feel like I stepped out of the 1940's - classic and glamourous. I went to the Ballet with my friend Matt who showed up in his work clothes from Starbucks and an accidental cut on his face from shaving. We were quite the odd couple that day and I wished we had gotten a picture of the both of us together. 


Me stilling in front of the computer eating an apple slice. Sometimes I like to make fun of myself. 


Me sitting in front of the sliding glass door of my apartment.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

The Sacred Space

My aunt got me a candle for Christmas. It was one of those candles that burn a small votive at the bottom which heats a bar of scented wax at the top. I had it in my apartment for a while before I got around to using it. I loved the way it lit the room so I decided to turn off all the lights and really let it glow.


It reminded me of some ancient Mayan artifact. In the flickering light the candle seemed to accumulate age the same way a storm gathers clouds. 


Simple cut out shapes echo large carved forms still lost in some foreign jungle. The meaning almost lost but the beauty never diminished. 


The candle's curved arch become a warm embrace in this sacred space. One single flame shelters us from the dark.