Waterlogged {gone fishing}

I vaguely remember being a social creature. Roaming with a pack through the city streets. The weather is warming up and the days are getting longer. I hear sounds of life outside the walls of my house. The backfiring of a tailpipe at 2am while I am trying to sleep triggers the recollection of days gone passed. The problem with these memories is that real time only moves in one direction. All we have left are the vague memories of biking into the sunset and staying up all night. My wild pack is now scattered across the world; some trapped in cubicles, some struggling with a home life, some on the run, some stuck in Milwaukee. Either my broken memory is taking a toll on my relationships or I feel myself growing away from the life of a pack that hunts together for new opportunities. The springing sounds of nightlife have woken me up and I have decided to quit the race.

I patched the hole in the bottom of the boat that has been decaying on the side of my garage and I set off to the center of the water. It is calm and quiet out in the middle and the sunshine on my closed eyelids. The deep cobalt blue water meets the gradient of white turning to bird’s egg blue sky and I toss out my lines to that crisp horizon line. Into the darkness my bait goes. I kick up my feet with a newfound confidence of not worrying about what the next opportunity may bring. Blessed with a memory full of darkness, I have no regrets holding me back from the darkness of what the future may hold.

Rock Collecting

[I spend so much time in front of the computer working on things that I need to take breaks outside, going for walks, breathing fresh air, clearing my head. Usually on my walks my mind is working through problems, trying to develop solutions, and planning the best use of my time. I am learning/trying to take days off and finding time to relax. Today I went for a walk for the Sunday Joy of going for a walk.]

It was cloudy, foggy and overcast with winter on it's way, but I didn't care. I wanted to walk down by the lake. The temperature was pleasantly warm despite the deceptive view from my inside my home. I like this time of year, that in between time, when the weather keeps the crowds locked away inside bars or at home watching football, but a handful of people still find the time to enjoy the last bit of tolerable weather. The smiles of passerby's seem much more sincere this time of year.


I started noticing the landscape more and began making pictures inside my head. Regretfully, I don't go on photo walks like I did in my youth, but my mind still frames and makes pictures. I never noticed these reed-like plants. They were still so green and full of life and everywhere. I wonder what kind of properties they have when they dry and what purpose they could have after the winter winds bring them to their seasonal death.


A path in between the reeds leads me down to the water. Walking along the shore staring at the ground, I spot the most perfect rock. It is the smoothest rock I have ever picked up and completely flat. An overwhelming sense of calm surrounds me and I rub my thumb over this circular rock and stare out at the muted blue lake meeting the out-of-focus overcast sky. I decide I will hold onto this rock until it is time to let it go.


I may make a step or two before I see another rock that calls to me. I pick it up and brush the sand clear revealing its true personality and history. 'Is this an arrowhead?'  My thumb presses against it's point. 'It's got to be, this sharp edge was purposefully created.' Even though there is slight pain, my thumb keeps pressing up against the point of this arrowhead and my mind contemplates disagreements, war, survival, and history.


I continue walking along the beach, staring at the debris in the sand with the calm, flat, smooth rock in one hand and sharp arrowhead in the other hand thinking about the extremes of duality. About to turn around from my introspective exploration along the shore, I spot a white piece of sea glass, one of my favorite rock collecting finds. I take another step back towards the concrete path when I see another piece of green sea glass. I begin walking around in a circle and find a handful of sea glass pieces in a heavy concentration.     


Sea glass has always been a sense of wonder for me. Walking back home with my pocket full of these broken pieces of glass worn smooth by the passage of time, wind, sand and water I think of my own memory. Memories once so sharp and clear become worn around the edges over time.

MAKE BOOKS!

"Make Books!" in the voice of Max Yela, Head, Special Collections, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee Libraries

As always, I've been juggling a number of different projects, jobs, and events. While loving every minute of it, my winter goal is to focus my energies down just a few avenues to maintain quality results. Mainly: Photographer at Caesar's Pet in the Historic Greendale Village, The Living Photo Booth Project with fellow photographer April Heding, various freelance gigs and favors, and enjoying the help I can offer my boyfriend, the freelance writer, Tea Krulos on any of his various projects.

Today I focused on books :
A. Caesar's Pet Photo Album for their Fall/Winter Fashion Show November 6, 2010

B. Portrait of Trashy Romance Novelist, Leroy Ronalds

C. Re-edition of my photo book, "On Our Way to Fall in Love," circa 2009

Milwaukee Zine Fest is this weekend and Tea Krulos will have a table where you can find his early prototype of a collection of his nightmares titled "Me Head Is A Haunted House, Mate," along with Leroy Ronalds' latest work, "Say You Love Table" and the re-edition my photobook "On Our Way to Fall in Love."

Treasure Hunt

Yet to be determined animal skull found at Gorzek Residence circa 2003 while cleaning up brush in woods. Initially Laura was not allowed to have it. Don Gorzek decided circa 2003 to burn years of forest brush with hopes of achieving dream of converting house into successful photo studio.


True-Vue Stereoscope viewfinders found 2010. Amazing find! These toys are educational film strips that are viewed in 3D. Pictures with depth. Laura sort of remembered playing with these as a child. Don Gorzek also remembered having one as a child when West Allis Central High School Library was throwing them away. Too neat not to keep.


Originally owned by George Korkos. He had a rummage sale at his sister, Sue Gorzek's house circa 1999, when he decided to sell all of his worldly possessions and bike across the country. Laura has a strange obsessions lately with aprons and thinks tool belts are "man-aprons" and wants to keep it in her personal collection.