It was high time I visited the fair Richmond, Virginia. I’ve listened to Dan talk about his alma mater in reverent tones for many years now, and being the visual gal that I am, I needed to put places to names and settings to stories. What better opportunity for just such an outing than a big track and field meet on the campus itself, hosted by Dan’s former team.
I convinced him to leave (most of) the camera equipment at home and just enjoy the visit. Sadly enough for us, it rained almost the entire weekend (and let me tell you, my hair + humidity = a monster movie), but we embraced all RVA (that’s local lingo for you) had to offer, and had a marvelous time.
So, without further ado, here is April’s 10-on-10 rendition.
Go wish these fellow 1o-on-10 photogs a happy April and check out their own posts. High fives all around!
I spent some quality time with my first love this weekend. Coffee, that is. We’ve been together a long time, starting back in high school when my first journalism teacher plopped a giant coffee (with two shots of espresso mixed in for extra pizzazz) in front of me. I was a goner.
Since then, I’ve devoted many an hour to honing the craft of coffee making, drinking and spilling. The last being an unintentional byproduct of the first two. There are many schools of thought when it comes to the proper ways of coffee brewing. My general approach is coffee-me-now, which can admittedly lead to rather unsavory brewed beverages. I’ve seen some things.
So this Sunday, rather than taking the fastest possible route to Coffeeville, I moseyed my pre-caffeinated bones into the leisure zone (I don’t even know, professional intervention is needed) and set up a new tool in my brewing arsenal: the beautiful Chemex.
There are dozens of videos on YouTube concerning proper Chemex brewing. None of which I watched before diving into the process for the first time myself. Wild outlaw that I am. I folded the paper filter into a cone somewhat matching the three-sides-to-one description printed on the box (I don’t know how they expect someone who hasn’t had any coffee yet to solve word problems), ground up the beans and poured the not-quite-boiling water over the bunch.
I have yet to work out the kinks — my first attempt was a smidge watery — but I successfully passed my high school chemistry class once upon a time. (And I only broke one sink in the process.) Thus I feel confident I can indeed prevail over the chemistry project of my life: achieving the perfect cup of joe.
What’s your favorite Sunday beverage?
Love and coffee to you,
This is the story of a blue ukulele.
The little ukulele didn’t start out with a blue hue, but rather came packaged in a box with some paints and stencils and glittered paper. I found the unadorned, child-sized instrument sitting on a sale shelf in a big box store, and decided to take him in and make a project of it. I broke out the bright blue paint, grabbed a paint brush, and laid it all out on top of yesterday’s newspaper.
So, for this month’s edition of 10-on-10, I give you the blue ukulele. Now, if only I knew how to play it…
We have a new member of the 10-on-10 family — Mr. Travis Button — so be sure to give him and each of these photographers a virtual high five and check out their posts as well.
There are many weeks when it seems I’m spending more time in the car than in our little cottage house. It comes with the territory of working for a publication that covers nine different counties around metro Denver. So what do you do with all that time driving hither and thither? Listen to a lot of music, radio stations, and my newfound favorite — podcasts. Yes, I’m about eight years behind on this one. I also take a bunch of photos with my trusty little fancy phone. Most of the following photos, pulled together for this month’s edition of our 10-on-10 collaborative project, were taken either while on the road, near a road, thinking about the road, or none of the above. Because consistency.
These aren’t the most technically auspicious photos, but I enjoy them for their simple record of this time in my life, (practically) living in the car, doing what I love in beautiful Colorado. (Oh, and a self-portrait. An art form I don’t dabble in too frequently, but that I thought I’d give a chance recently. So that’s the story.)
Be sure to stop by and give these ladies some love:
Berlin, Germany. The end of our two-week adventure across three countries in Europe. It was an interesting exercise to start our travels amid the ancient churches and cobblestones of Rome, and finish it surrounded by history that occurred in our own lifetimes. In Italy, you felt the immense awe of events so far removed; in Berlin, you felt the very recent realness of them.
Before Dan suggested we visit Germany at all, I had always overlooked it as a destination. (My apologies to all of Germany, including my ancestors. Nothing but love for you all.) Italy and France and Spain and England, these were the places that most frequently sprang to mind when imagining European excursions. As such, dear Germany remained rather unknown to me. Which made it all the more wonderful to cap off our journey. I had very few researched, must-see venues to visit. So instead, we just followed the pavement as it spread out before us.
I’ve been struggling to come up with the proper words to seal this recap of our two weeks traveling through Europe. In fact, the browser window holding a draft of this very post has remained open for almost a week on my computer, just quietly awaiting some keystrokes. I think you approach such a pilgrimage with the assumption that one way or the other, you’ll come out the other side with a sort of revelation to carry back home like a souvenir purchased from a street corner vendor. I certainly have felt this necessity. But in truth, I don’t believe you can walk away from a trip with the impact of your experiences neat and tidy and ready to be shared. In actuality, they sit with you, and remain with you for a lifetime to come, to chew over and process continuously. Maybe there’s never a single nugget to sum it all up. Instead, you’re left with a handful of little strings that you’ve tied to each location, that will anchor your heart and mind in fragments. And maybe that is just as it should be.
So that, for now, is all she wrote. Thanks for sharing a part of this with me.