Sentimental Nut

Ahh, school supplies... they're everywhere you go right now since August is right around the corner. Kids and parents are searching for those perfect backpacks and the accessories to fill those backpacks. Remember the days when you would go searching for a cheap paper box that expressed "you" to proudly sit on your desk to hold your crayons, glue, pencils, and scissors? I think they're plastic now. Well, in 1989, my 5th grade year, this was my box.



I've kept it for 19 years to house markers and such over the years, but the lid doesn't open easily anymore, and it is no longer a necessary tool for me in my adulthood, but I'm a sentimental nut that can't get rid of it! Here's why:

Can you read the message? My sister must have dug up the crayons and art supplies that filled this box to write this secret note at the bottom beneath the waxy crayon residue and torn crayon wrappers. I found the note years ago, but it always makes me smile so I couldn't get rid of it. I love the fact that Gayle created a secret for me to discover. Imagine the giddiness she might have had just waiting for me to ffind what she did!

We used to do stuff like that all the time. Once we created a code of symbols to correlate to the alphabet and then we'd write incripted notes for each other to decipher. We'd also have secret knocks between our bedroom walls to let each other know that a message was waiting. And somewhere in Gayle's house, there's a letter in an envelope that we wrote about 20 years ago in which we instructed ourselves not to open until sometime in the next decade! I'm anxious to see what wackiness we sealed away. I love having a sister to be imaginative with!

Tonight I went through random stuff in our office, and when I came across this box, I've decided that it's time to let it go, but I had to at least take pictures of it! I'm a little sad just thinking of sitting in the trash can because it's such a symbol of my school days, and reminiscent of laying on my tummy on scratchy carpet along side my sister as we color, the box between us. The Velveteen Rabbit come to mind. The box doesn't have feelings, the box doesn't have feelings.

I'm learning to purge. Bear with me. Is there school for that?

happy learning,
Dawn

P.S. Never mind, I think I can find a new purpose for it. It's not in the garbage anymore. You sentimental nut.

The Night We Shot at Elephants

It's a sticky, humid Sunday night in downtown Tucson and the streets are flooded with people holding sticky little hands, cotton candy remnants, bags of peanuts, and Ringling Brothers Circus memorabilia as they exit the Tucson Convention Center doors and make way to their cars. Waves of vehicles inch their way along the roads while my long-time friend, Erin, and I try to find a place to park in the madness. The two of us arrive while masses leave. But soon the streets become vacant and we sit on the steps of the police department building, (where my sister Gayle works, actually) testing exposures on our cameras. We sit and wait; we wait for the elephants.

The parking lot lights begin to switch off, one by one, and the city landscape is dark. Random doses of color flicker here and there. An already challenging photo situation is just about to get more interesting.

Lightning sprawls across the sky as a protester approaches us and tells us of her worry; of the abuse the magnificent beasts could endure during their careers as circus elephants.

We hear the rain before we feet it. It rudely interrupts our conversation and we run for cover, anticipation rising within us of when they would come our way and if the rain would continue.


The "bloop, bloop!" of sirens signal that police cars are maneuvering their way to block any traffic and to make way for the parade of the elephants. No trumpet (or trunk) blows to announce their arrival, but we spot the gray leader of the single-file line, his trunk swaying side to side. Rain pelts the streets, reflecting a mysterious orange light, and we take as many pictures as we can without too many raindrops hitting us under the building's overhang, but the elephants quickly pass us. Erin shouts, "How bad do we want to get these pictures?" as we teeter on the edge of dry pavement and wet. "I want the elephants!" So we run on slippery asphalt and sidewalks, our cameras under our shirts!

We rush to keep up with the kindergarten-like elephants as they march north on Church Avenue. Each one grips a tail with a trunk like a security blanket as though they can't keep going without each other's comfort and they walk as though they're in a hurry -perhaps from the elephant paparazzi. We can't seem to get in front of them; they're quicker than we imagined they'd be!

The make a right on Pennington Street, ignoring stop signs and red lights as we snap away. A man has to snap at me a few times, too. "Miss, please stay on the other side of the rope!" I apologize frequently for wandering on the wrong side, but you see, I'm walking as I look through my view finder and the people holding the ropes are in my way!

More people join the frenzy of photographing the beautiful animals as we arrive at the train station. The Dumbo song plays in my head, "Pink elephants on parade! What'll I do? What'll I do? What an unusual view!"

The rain has let up quite a bit, but it's still dark and because of the slow shutter speed I'm using, it's difficult to get non-blurry images.

Once before the circus train, the elephants seem to remember (because an elephant never forgets) what to do and automatically and meticulously line up before the train cars, their rear-ends facing the onlookers. Then it becomes clear what the haste in elephant pace was all about! They must know a long, jolting journey on the train looms before them and they know there is no better time to... relieve themselves before getting aboard.

I continue shooting at them from behind bars through my cyclops lens as an old tattooed man directs each one into a train car which boasts, "The Greatest Show on Earth."

Is what's so magical to me, really monotonous and repetitive, same-old action to the elephants? Do they long for the plains of Africa, or the forests of Asia, or the enclosure of a zoo cage even, or do they enjoy their performing art? Who scouts them and how are they chosen? Many hunt them; me included, as I prey on them for a special elephant image. I shot at them over one-hundred times.

Despite that guilt-ridden, pity-filled question, this night will forever remain memorable and surreal; definitely, for me, one of the "greatest shows" and special secrets of the public streets in Downtown Tucson.

Thank you, Erin and Donovan, for sharing.

Happy Independence Day

A year ago today, Kurtis and I went with Gayle to the El Conquistador Resort to watch the spectacular 4th of July firework display since Mike, an Oro Valley K-9 police officier, was working the event, but little did I know at the time that it was a very special day for another reason.


It was the day that Gayle and Mike found out that they were pregnant! They had been trying for over 2 years! They did a really good job of keeping the secret on that exciting day, which I can only imagine was very hard to do! (Don't they look happy and sneaky with their secret?) Gayle told me that she came close to telling me, but she really wanted to tell our parents first. So, I found out a few days later when she gave me a children's book with a special inscription inside letting me know that I'd be an auntie! I look forward to the day when I'll get to read it with him.

Nathan is 4 months old today! I love being an auntie!


Tonight we went to my Aunt Donna and Uncle Mike's house and we watched those same fireworks at El Conquistador from a bit farther away this year, but it was still fun and festive! Here are my cousins, Joshua and Jillian, with some of the Catalina Mountains in view along with a burst of fireworks.


In case you're wondering what the rest of Joshua's shirt says, "I put ketchup on my ketchup." What a perfect shirt for Joshua and for a barbecuing Independence Day with family.

Proudly,
Dawn

Right-O

Scene: It's 6:15 PM and we just arrive home from work. Kurtis flops on the bed and I'm in the bathroom.

Kurtis: "As soon as we get the economic stimulus check, we're going to put it all in the savings account, right?"

Dawn: "Right-o... left-toe. Ha ha!"

Kurtis: "Weird-toe."

Dawn: (laughs because he plays along) "I love you, Kurt."

Kurtis: "I love you toe!"

Get it!? Hee hee! "Toe!" "Too!" He cracks me up! He's just right for me.

cornballishly,

Dawn

Waiting for September

Liam is due on September 1st, but there is debate! Will he be born on August 30th instead -- the birthday of his daddy and uncle Kurtis... and my friend, Kelley, too? Very wonderful people have been born on that day. I think there' s plenty of room for him on my calendar there. Of course, September is wonderful month, too!


That is my first bear posing with beautiful Jen, dreaming of her baby.

Baby belly blocks!

Dawn

Expressing...

*mirth*

*curiosity*

*gas*

*termi-"nater" attitude*

*happiness*

my-face-hurts-from-smiling,

Dawn

"With Brandi Carlile"

Wednesday night Kurtis and I had a night on the town! We ate at Blue Willow-- a fun, eclectic, local restaurant on Campbell Avenue-- and then we went to the "Indigo Girls with Brandi Carlile" concert at the Rialto Theatre.


Brandi Carlile's band began the show and they were incredible! A man in the crowd shouted at one point, "You should be headlining, Sweetheart!" and we so agreed! It should have been, "Brandi Carlile with the Indigo Girls," but due to the experience difference, that could have been an awkward conversation. We were there purely for Brandi's music, and not so much for the Indigo Girls because we don't really know their work. They have nice voices, but they just don't have the same effect on us! Kurtis and I swayed to the beat of Brandi Carlile's music in the center of a conglomerate of other fans listening together at the foot of the stage for a quick 45 minutes.

She sang some of our favorites tunes: "The Story," "Have You Ever," (which was recently played to wake up the astronauts at the space station!), and spectacular covers to "Hallelujah," and to Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison." We also got a sneak peak to a couple of new songs that will be on her next album - can't wait! She has such soul, unique tonality, and amazing crescendos and decrescendos. There's not one song that I've heard that I haven't liked, and that's rare to say that about any artist, I think.

Here's what's on the front of the shirt that I bought at the concert. I think it's very cute and I especially love that it's not obviously from a concert; it's subtle.

I wore it to a barbecue at an Australian family's house, and Mr. Plant said in his charming Aussie accent, "That's a penny farthing on your shirt," which I had to ask him to repeat twice, but came to learn that's a term for the sort of bike it is-- a penny for the large wheel and a farthing for the small wheel!

Anyway, during the concert, I came to the realization that Miss Carlile is not afraid of her gift and I found it inspiring that she has the gumption to follow the advice of one of my favorite quotes:

"Whatever your talent, use it in every way possible... Spend it lavishly like a millionaire intent on going broke." ~Brenden Francis

I think the t-shirt design illustrates how a person's heart leads the way on the ride through life. The heart is the big wheel and it's crucial to keep it moving. Spend those pennies and farthings. Go for broke. Be lavish. Make the most of your ride. You'll see more when peddling. Share those talents. Offer them to the world. After all, your heart is what drives you. You know when your heart beats its fastest.

heartful,

Dawn