Showing posts with label daughter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daughter. Show all posts

Sunday, June 9, 2019

En Plein Air


Last weekend my daughter and I attended an En Plein Air workshop. To be specific an Outdoor Pastel Bootcamp at our local botanic park. Five hours of drawing with chalk pastels.

I signed us up for the workshop back in February after the great success of our two hour acrylic workshop held by our County Park system. I was so excited to continue to try new mediums. Two hours of acrylic painting had passed in a flash, so I figured five hours would be a comfortable, enjoyable amount.

But now it was the beginning of June, the Farmers Market was happening, the weekly Chef Series was happening. I was missing all of that to go sit on a little blue stool for five hours. And I am not a sit still kind of gal. Plus I have only used pastels in my art journal and mixed media pieces as little color accents, not drawing a whole landscape scene with them. My drawing skills are still on the Kindergarten level.

Still I had signed us up and paid the money, we were going to go. There is nothing like plunking down some cash to motivate the hesitant.


Until a couple of years ago, I had never even heard of plein air painting. But doing some research, I discovered it became popular in the the mid-1800's when artists became inspired to paint outdoor scenes in natural light instead of in the studio recalling from memory and charcoal sketches. The invention of paint in tubes and the box easel also contributed to the popularity.

We began the workshop with some instruction in the classroom. Perfect. A table and a chair with a back. That lasted for a half hour or so. Then it was time to gather our blue folding stools, our drawing boards, paper and box of pastels and set off outside.


We set up in the Japanese Garden, my favorite, after the Michigan Farm Garden. If I had to sit here for four hours at least the view was mesmerizing. Our instructor gave us a demonstration of sketching  and drawing a scene with the pastels, so we would have some clue as to what we were doing. That blissfully took up another twenty minutes or so. Then it was time for us to start. I positioned my stool so I was looking directly at the bridge, arranged my supplies, secured my paper, whipped out my iPhone to take some "sketches", discovered the grid app to lay over photos in the App store, applied the grid to my favorite "sketch". I was ready to begin.


My daughter, meanwhile, had taken her stool and moved as far away as possible from me, knowing I would be a pain in the arse, talking all the time instead of taking the drawing seriously.

I had just gotten the lid of my box of pastels when I felt the first rain drops. The instructor quickly came around and reassured us that the light shower would be over shortly. We could get our umbrellas out, or move our supplies to the covered area by the tea house. I quickly carried my supplies over to the covered area. The rain didn't lessen. We decided to take our scheduled break a little early and go to the cafe for lunch.

While in the glass windowed cafe, it was clear the rain wasn't going to go away. The classroom assistant had had the foresight to gather everybody's supplies and transport them back to the indoor classroom.

Back to that lovely table and chair with a back. I had my "sketches". I was ready to work. And there were only 2-1/2 hours left to endure. My poor daughter though was stuck with me again.

Artwork: Mallory Huizenga

I had to endure my own hardship with my daughter, that being that she is very talented, and makes others wonder where she gets her talent from - certainly not her mother. Some of us are just more naturally gifted than others.

Artwork: Sarah Huizenga

Truthfully though, I had a great time, and learned a lot, including some patience. While my creation was no masterpiece, it wasn't half bad, thanks to the instructor's help. What I really enjoyed about pastels and what may encourage me to continue on, is that they felt like abstract drawing with color. I liked using my hands and fingers instead of a paint brush. Having handy wet and dry paper towels nearby, or a classroom sink are the perfect way to limit the messy feeling.


I have been working on another piece at home. Carving out a half hour between breakfast and our morning walk to work on art. This is the result of four mornings of work. I worked on this in thirds, starting at the top, with each third I grew more confident in my ability. I am going to call this one done. I could keep worrying it to death, but I think it would be better to take my growing confidence and move on to a new piece. Thank you to Carola Bartz for the original inspirational photograph. I had initially planned to use the photograph for a watercolor paining, but that only got half finished. This is complete. It feels really good to finish!

Sunday, May 6, 2018

The Hour of Homecoming


From the moment we came over the rise, on the roller coaster road that is M-109, in the heart of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, I knew I was home. Above us stretched a bright blue sky, on each side of us were sun-bleached sand dunes with tufts of beach grass sprouting from them, and ahead of us sat the most photogenic weathered white barn I had ever seen.  I wasn't a photographer then, just a snapshot taker. I didn't know anything about good light or bad light, composition, POV, the golden hour, ISO; it would be another fifteen years before those words would enter my vocabulary. I just knew I had to get out and take a picture with my pocket-size Fuji film camera.


I have lived in Michigan all my fifty years, never living farther than twenty miles from my childhood home. Somehow though,  I knew that this "up north" place, three hours from where I grew up, was where my heart lived. For twenty-five years I have been trying to figure out what it is about this place, why it captivates me so. With each return, I dig a little deeper into it and into myself.


Our family of three opinionated adults and one sassy golden retriever, just returned from a week of vacation in this place of homecoming.


Vacations tend to fall into one of two camps for me. Either they are vacations of adventure, where I have to figure the place out, consult maps, make wrong turns, get yelled at. Or they are vacations of discovery, where the place is already understood and instead I have time and space to explore who I am in it.


We tend to stay in the same small area every time we go up north, either nestled on the edge of a small lake, or the edge of a golf course. This time, our daughter, one of the opinionated adults, convinced us to try someplace new, father north than we usually stay, located in the middle of farm country, open fields on every side, a step out of our comfort zone. This put me farther from the places that I always photograph, favorite places, another step out of comfort.


Having learned the importance of the "golden hour", I was up before the sun every morning. The sassy golden retriever, hearing the creak of the wooden floorboards, joined me. I would put on my winter coat, my warm paisley rain boots, secure my headlamp to my head, and open the back door to the frozen landscape. We would crunch through the refrozen snow, climb the rise to the west of the house, and wander along the ridge line. He would pretend to track wild animals until he finally did his business. Then, we would turn back toward the warm glow of the house so he could eat and return to bed with my daughter. I would make tea in the white mug I had claimed for the week, write in my journal, then gather my camera gear that was waiting by the door, and head out into the predawn light to scrape the ice from the windows of my car.

To be continued...

Part Two of this will be next week. I have too much I want to say for one post, and too many photographs I want to share. Until then here is a short film of our first day of vacation, you can get a good sense of the farmhouse and area around it.


Leelanau - April 21, 2018 from Sarah Huizenga on Vimeo.

Sunday, April 8, 2018

Daughters and Butterflies


Daughters and butterflies; beautiful, delicate creatures that we want to hold in our hands and protect from the world. But, if we hold too tightly, we end up damaging their fragile wings. Instead, we must provide a firm foundation for them to strengthen their wings upon. Then, when they are ready, let them go to soar upwards toward their own bright blue sky.


My daughter, Mallory, took a day off from work last week and suggested that we go visit the butterfly exhibit at the Frederik Meijer Gardens in the city. I had been wanting to go anyway, and it is more fun to go with someone, especially when that someone is your daughter.


I rarely get the chance to photograph her, being a stubborn child who prefers to stay out of the limelight. But trapped in a building, and with momma paying, she had little choice.  The outing also gave me a chance to use my 85mm lens, a lens I fall in love with every time I use it. Why don't I use it more?


There are over 60 species of butterflies from Asia, Africa, and Central & South America in the exhibit this year.





This is the Common Morpho butterfly. The underside of the wings have the most intriguing brown coloring and "eye" spots, but the topside of the wings are a breathtaking iridescent blue.


For the breath of a second, one landed on my sweater.

I made a short film of our day, much to my grumbling daughter's protest. If she only knew the joy that it brings to my "momma" heart to have this time together. Soon enough there will be someone else special in her life. I want to remember these fleeting, iridescent days.


Butterflies and Daughters from Sarah Huizenga on Vimeo.

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Mornings with Fin


Most of you will know this face, either from here on my blog or if you follow me on Instagram, and especially if you follow me on Flickr. He has become easy prey for my 365 photography project this winter. If you haven't met him before, this is Findley, my grand puppy. Although he isn't much of a puppy anymore, since he will be turning two in one short month.

I take care of Findley a couple days a week to help break up his monotony while my daughter works. Plus it helps satisfy my dog itch, a least for the moment.

The one problem with these adorable photographs is that you only see one facet of Fin's character. But trust me, there is so much more to Fin, he really is Mr. Personality, and has been from the beginning.

To showcase his true nature, Fin and I have been working on a short film for the past couple of weeks.

Have a watch...
 

This also happens to fulfill the homework assignment for Week 2 of Xanthe's Make Films e-course.

Three years ago, I tried to take a year long Xanthe film course. I never made it past the first month. I realize now why I failed; I was too new into the journey, I was trying to find out who I was. I wasn't confident enough to stand up and do the assignments my own way, I thought I had to do them like everybody else, but I wasn't like everybody else, so I gave up.

Now at the start of 2018, I know who I am, I know my style, I know what I like and what I don't like. I am hungry to learn more, to take who I am and express it in the truest way.

This course is also teaching me why I struggle with sitting down and writing a story, I need a visual story. It's the same story just told in a different way, with a lot less sitting.

I use to be a daydreamer, creating elaborate stories in my head. This helped to make the boredom of my receptionist job tolerable. I would often carry these daydreams into my sleep, my imagination working on its own while I slept. But then motherhood and sleepless nights replaced deep sleep, and I was too tired during the day to daydream anyway. Eventually, if you stop using your imagination, it goes into hibernation. But it can be reawakened, you just have to start using it again, and that is what making films is allowing me to do - use my imagination again.

I love taking a subject or theme and creating the scenes to go with it. I love editing in iMovie. I love the challenge of finding the perfect music to accompany the film. I love how the films capture the essence of people/dogs and places, so much more than a still photograph can. I am also amazed at how much I can say in a one minute film clip.

Well, it's time to start working on my next film, I have some ideas floating around in my head. Stay tuned...

End Notes

My husband I have completed twenty days of our month of Whole 30. I would say by mid-way through week two it became so much easier. There are still a lot of eggs, and a lot of dishes to wash each meal, but it's worth it. All my clothes are fitting looser, and the tight yoga pants are now the only yoga pants that stay up nice and snug. I still miss my chai lattes, and a bit of sweetness in my drinks. I don't miss melty cheese or bread (too much). We definitely are never hungry.

I just completed day 140 of my 365 Photography Project. January has been a little tough with all the cold and snow. I miss being outside.

Also, if you missed it on Instagram here is my Make Films homework/completed film for Week One. 



Fin is starting to demand a higher salary. I guess I will be going back to the Pet Store for some more biscuits.

Have a great week.

Sunday, September 3, 2017

Scene & Story - August 2017


August was a long month. By the end of August I am so ready for summer to be over and for my favorite season of the year begin. I am tired of the sun, the washed out colors, the noise, the heat and especially the humidity, which is no friend of this curly-haired girl.

In spite of my strong feelings about August, it was good month. I completed a 30 Day Photography Composition challenge, learning many things about myself and my photography in the process, always a rewarding experience. I took care of a friend's puppy for a week and survived; I learned I am not quite ready for a puppy of my own. I continued to work on my personal photography project - The Meadow, only missing the week I watched the puppy.

But the best part of August was two trips North. One with my husband, which I wrote about in my last blog post, and one with my daughter for a long overdue girls' weekend.

I realized it has been over three years since my daughter and I did a weekend away, much too long for someone who loves quality time with her family. She wanted me to take her wine tasting, which we did, but I also added a twilight tour of the former insane asylum - perfect for the photographer mother and the history major daughter, coffee in our favorite up-north town, a trip to the bookstore and a book, some rock collecting, a food truck experience, a lighthouse, and a trip to the lavender farm - which is where the above photo was taken - enjoying lavender lemonade and  lavender shortbread cookies on the patio of the Secret Garden.

It was a great weekend, three years won't pass before we do it again.



Sunday, July 2, 2017

Scene & Story - June 2017


Would you drive three and a half hours to go to a coffee shop? No, I wouldn't either, as much as I like coffee shops. But... I would drive three and a half hours to spend an adventure day with my girl in our favorite place - Leland, MI. And if part of that day happens to include sitting on a patio outside the Blue Boat coffee shop sipping Chai Lattes, all the better. 




Sunday, February 19, 2017

Painting


I use to occasionally paint for others. By paint I don't mean a landscape painting, I mean painting their bathroom, their bedroom, their living room. It isn't that I love to paint, but over the years of painting all the rooms in our houses multiple times, I have my system down to a science, and a little extra hobby money never hurt.


I went through the faux texture wall application phase, I went through the focal wall a bold color phase, I went through the colorful walls phase, and now I am settling into the simply white walls phase.


Over the past two weeks I have been doing another painting job, and this one is without pay, at least in the monetary form. But it also a painting job that brings me great joy. For the past two weeks I have been helping my daughter paint her new vintage apartment.


My beautiful girl is moving out, and most likely for the last time, with a taste of true freedom I doubt she will return. I had a moment the other day while driving to her new place when it hit that this is it and I could feel the tears well up. But I pulled myself together and said she is only ten minutes away, not like college when she was eight hours away, she can stop by any time...

Sunday, January 8, 2017

Scene & Story - December 2016


Bring out the camera and everyone in my family becomes a comedian.

I was trying to photograph this cookbook from a low angle for week eight of my 52 week photography project when my daughter decided to insert her comical face into the frame. By the grace of God I caught the shot perfectly and it immediately became my favorite photo from the whole project that week, yet one I could not use because it didn't fit the story.

This adorable shot of my serious child gives my heart that fluttery feeling. It is rare to capture these moments of my adult child who is stuck in her childhood life. She is ready for so much more, an adult job with an adult salary and place of her own. She is also ready for someone special to be in her life, the invisible scars of past relationships nearly healed.

As her mother I see how gifted and talented she is, I know that others will see that too. I pray that 2017 is the year that she begins her magical adult life.

P.S. I did get her permission to use the photo :)

**Scene & Story is a collaborative effort between myself and Lee of Sea Blue Lens. We encourage you to share a favorite photo from the previous month along with a short story or description and link up your blog or Flickr photo. Please remember to visit the other story sharers and leave a little love everywhere you visit.



Sunday, December 4, 2016

Scene & Story - November 2016


I knew from the moment I saw this photo on my computer that this was my pick for November's Scene & Story.

I often struggle with showing a feeling other than solitude in my photography. This photo is brimming with feeling and emotion, and it may be the turning point in my work.

The scene involves my daughter, her 8-month old golden retriever, Findley, and a hike in the woods at a family favorite state park.

Now you tell me the story...


Joining my friend Leon of Sea Blue Lens for our monthly collaboration.


Sunday, November 13, 2016

Therapy


As I prepared to drive north, I plugged my iPhone into the cassette adapter and tapped on the audible.com app. I knew exactly what I needed to hear on my two hour drive - the words of Brene Brown. I pressed start on her book The Gifts of Imperfection, which I also read a few years ago. As I pulled into the Starbucks drive-thru lane I stopped the book. The book wasn't narrated by Brene, I needed Brene's voice as much as her words. Instead I chose The Power of Vulnerability - Teaching on Authenticity, Connection and Courage. Only four months had passed since I last listened to this, but I am a different person than I was four months ago.


My drive north would bring me to a place filled with memories - Ludington State Park. I had been to the park only the week before with my daughter and her dog, Findley. Before that it had been almost a year and a half since my last visit, and before that at least a couple of years, which seems utterly ridiculous for as close as I live.


Being there had awakened all my old loves of the place. The only problem with last week was that it went too quickly. On my agenda for that day had been the 1-1/2 mile trek out to Big Sable Point Lighthouse, where I hadn't been since 2011. But my daughter, being the stickler for family traditions had insisted we do the walking loop around the dam, followed by our packed picnic lunch. After lunch, when Findley would be slightly tired we could take a leisurely stroll on the Lost Lake Trail. At eight months Findley's two speeds are fast and faster, so there was no leisurely stroll and I barely had time to raise my camera and take a few snapshots. But even with Findley's fast pace it was still four o'clock by the time we returned to the car. The journey to the lighthouse would have to wait for another day.


Only a week later, on a perfect early November day, sunny skies and temperatures in the low 60's, I was suppose to be home doing house projects while my daughter and Findley were gone for a few days and I had the house to myself. It is hard to get big cleaning projects done with a puppy running around. But instead I found myself in my car driving back to Ludington State Park and this time I would get to the lighthouse.


Even though I have been coming here for over thirty years, the drive into the park never fails to take my breath away. The summer homes and trees abruptly end and all that's left is the road, the dunes, and wide open space.


I pulled into the beach parking lot at 9:30, still early enough to catch some good light at the Big Sable River outlet to Lake Michigan.


Satisfied with my photographic captures thus far, I set off down the gravel two-track path to the lighthouse. About a half mile down the road, I came upon a sign that said Historic Shipwreck and the arrow pointed over the dune toward Lake Michigan. Hmmm...I didn't remember this from five years ago. Over the dune I went. As I came over the first dune this is what I saw...


Not a shipwreck, but it did give me that fluttery feeling inside. The bench begged to be photographed but it also beckoned for me to come and sit. I took off my camera backpack laid it on the bench and settled in for a therapy session with nature.


In Brene's sessions that I listened to on the way up she talked about the year she spent in therapy, therapy she needed to deal with her own issues that were arising from her work on shame and vulnerability. Maybe that's what I needed, a year of therapy to figure some of my crap out. But as I sat on that wooden bench surrounded by sand dunes, blue skies, Lake Michigan and lot of open space, I realized that photography is my therapy. I have access to it any time I need it, not just in scheduled fifty minute sessions. It may not talk to me in a physical voice like a therapist would, but it does have its own language, and I can hear it if I am only aware.


A few people commented on my last post about how self-aware I am. I am because I intentionally try to be. I want to figure myself out, where I am, and where I am headed. It is not a straight and narrow path, it is a constantly winding switchback without an end in sight.


One of the questions I asked myself as I sat on that bench. Why am I always anxious to travel and explore new places? Especially when places so close to home are amazing and filled with wonderful memories. Too often when I go to new places I feel rushed, always looking for "the shot" and usually not finding it, leaving me disappointed in the trip. But then I come to a place like this park, one that I know well and I can find all kinds of things to photograph, still not always "the shot" but the memories carry just as much weight here as perfect light.

I need to stop chasing the new and exciting all the time and instead seek the familiar places that I love. I think my photography and my writing will be stronger because of it.

Monday, August 22, 2016

The First Turning


I skipped church today, but I think God will understand.

Today was the day I have been waiting for all summer, and it wasn't just because my husband and daughter were leaving for a three day backpacking trip to a remote island, although it was an added bonus. No, today was special because the weather exhibited the first turn towards Autumn, my favorite season of the year.

I love summer for about two weeks, and then I am ready for the heat, the humidity (terrible for a curly-haired girl), and the bright sunshine that washes out every color, all to go away.


This morning I woke to change in the air; the humidity had disappeared overnight, the temperature was the perfect 68 degrees, and the breeze...oh how I have missed the breeze. Throw open the windows and let it in.


After listening to my husband and daughter go through their packing list for the tenth time, I kissed them both, extracted promises from both of them that they wouldn't kill each other, and sent them on their way.


The next three days were mine. Well actually, mine with Scout and Findley, but the worst they do is bark. Scout was still snoozing downstairs, the life of the aged golden retriever, and well earned. I coaxed Findley into his walking harness with the promise of a car ride and off we set for a walking trail that I had discovered this spring. A trail we can't do in the summer because it is too sunny and too hot.


Today was perfect, a refreshing breeze blowing through the wildflower fields, an amazing cloud display, and not a bead of sweat anywhere on my body.


It took a little time to settle into our pace on the wide paved path, but finally Findley became content with looking for sticks to carry in his mouth, and I could tune in the voice in my head. The voice has been missing the last few weeks, lost amongst the busyness of the final weeks of summer. I could slow my breath and truly see the things around me. The vibrant purples and yellows of the wildflowers, and how the breeze made them dance. The breeze carried the smell of rotisserie chicken on the grill, bringing back pleasant childhood memories of my dad making chicken on the grill for Sunday dinner.


The two hour walk brought more peace than church could have today. I think God will understand.

Friday, April 22, 2016

Findley


Last spring when our daughter Mallory was finishing her last semester of college, she was debating where to live after college. Either move three hours away from home, where she had received a job offer, or move back home, uncertain about a job, but with a free place to live. I encouraged the moving back home with the offer that I would consider adding a second dog to the family. She was very determined to get a dog of her own.

Riley, Mallory, Scout

We had lost the family golden retriever Riley, who was her dog, the previous autumn. Thankfully, we still had his younger (only by six months) brother, Scout, but it still took time for all of us to heal from the loss. By spring we were closer to being ready to consider the possibility, especially knowing that Scout was 12 and his hips are not in great shape.

Scout

The dangling dog carrot must have worked because she did move back home, and found a job within a week of being home. I was thrilled to have her back, after her being gone for the past four years.


The conditions of the new puppy were - it was her decision, her money. She did a lot of research, debating between a Bernese Mountain Dog and another Golden Retriever. She talked to different breeders. Ultimately it came down to a local friend I had made on Instagram (who I had never personally met) had recently gotten a golden puppy. I messaged her for the breeder information and passed it along to Mallory, the rest is history.

Meet Findley. Born February 18, 2016. Came to live with us April 15, 2016.


In the litter he was known as Light Blue, because of the light blue collar he was identified by. He stood out to Mallory from the first photo she saw of the litter at two days old.

Light Blue - top of the pile between her feet

The breeder matches prospective owners with puppies based on what they are looking for and the personality of the puppy. Mallory had no idea if she would get light blue, but he always seemed to make himself known to her each time she visited.


On pickup day, Mallory still didn't know which puppy would be Findley, the breeder was debating between a couple for her. The two that the breeder brought out for her to decide between were Royal Blue and... Light Blue. That didn't make her decision any easier, they were both so cuddly. In the end she went with her heart and chose Light Blue. He was the one that had stolen it from the very beginning.


The introduction of Findley to Scout has gone extremely well. I think Scout is thrilled to have a friend again. He is definitely more perky and wants to be outside to play with Findley. This won't cure his hips, or turn back his age, but it does make his days joy filled again.


Someday, Mallory will move out on her own. I will worry a lot less about her knowing that Findley is there beside her as companion and protector.