selfie.

Photography is such a slippery medium. 

You never know what emotion you're going to capture. 

Or whether, in fact, your subjects will look like themselves. 

A random thought, a flash of memory and the face contorts; you've photographed an entirely different person. Maybe, though, that's the whole idea.

doodle no.587

I am a perpetual procrastinator, and unfortunately, it seems to work for me. Though I could live without the stress.. This ink and paper design is an example of an artistic surge under the pressure of procrastination (and a missed submissions deadline.)

After multiple google searches of African relics and artifacts for inspiration, I figured I'd just give up and fall asleep... Then this doodle, by inveterate 'doodler' Miriam Badyrka, showed up randomly... And then I figured, what the hell... Doodles are what I do. 

Above is my take on the 25 year anniversary of Peace Corps in Namibia.  Looking forward to cleaning this image up a bit, and digging out my art supplies in the states and silk-screening this graphic (minus text)... 

drunk, adjacent.

This weekend held host the semi-traumatizing task of choosing campers for a leadership camp. ^[1]  After two years interacting with adolescent kids in a rural community, and having once been one myself, I am sensitive to the importance of getting out of the village. ^[2]

Thankfully, there was a group of five making the final choices. In fact, I could only fully review half. It’s emotionally exhausting to hold such responsibility. And I’ve been a hiring manager, before. Easy in comparison. Adults you can hold to a higher level of responsibility, and therefore, their level of preparedness in an application.

Children… There is such potential. But potential can be tamped out. Left to deteriorate. Trying to triage and advance the applications for learners that could benefit the most… leaves you in desperate need of a drink. Wine to dull, chai to soothe.

^[1] Camp GLOW Namibia. GLOW = Girls and Guys Leading Our World. Apart from my school library, it’s one of the most rewarding parts of my service. And we run into former campers, after the fact. One, who had attended camp a half decade ago, broke into song--an “energizer”—while making an assist on the other side of the counter at FNB.

You never can be sure what will make an impact on a child’s life. But a camp that’s all about empowerment of self, gender equality, advancement of civic responsibility and leadership can’t hurt, right?

^[2] My mother fell for a man over the internet. He lived across the pond. Plus Camp Alexander Mack. Possibly the best camp, ever. (Sorry, Camp Singing Hills.) Plus tramping to antique shows the length and breadth of the North-Eastern US through my early childhood. I got out. Often. A privilege not many children are able to enjoy.

... random tid-bits from the weekend:

“You’re a Peace Corps Volunteer… You are here in the spirit of service, after all.”

                “It’s true. Next time, I’ll just lay down and let him have his way with me.”

“Well… That’s what I would've done.”

                “Now I know... Now I know.”

“You didn’t really talk to us. You were just off to the side with L— and A—, drinking.”    

                “You were a PCT... PCVs aren’t allowed to drink with them.”

“You were drunk.”

                “I wasn't drinking 'with' you.. We were at a party… I was drunk, adjacent.”