Ole Miss and ‘Ol Mr. Ornery

Being pent up on a tour bus for hours on end can make one crazy. Arriving in a new city just as the sun is coming up, and the world is still asleep, (and of course, there is fresh coffee at hand…)
…that time of solitude makes the long drives worth it.

Ole Miss (Oxford, Ms), is a cutesy little city straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

As soon as we arrived, we grabbed a cup of coffee…

…and had our run of the town-as its inhabitants slept.

When you throw a little caffeine in Biceps after driving all night, he starts to get extra wily.
Especially in front of his most preferred audience of one-me.

He started by jumping into the frame over and over. That’s his blurry, cute face in the frame far left.

And then he started doing this with his coffee cup-over and over and over and over and over….

Boy, did he think he was hilarious.

Knowing he would continue to do this with each shot, I decided to dig into this man’s psyche.
After a thorough analysis, I was able to comprehend the motivation for the orneriness.

Like a little kid, he just wanted his picture taken.
My cute, ornery man can be so easily appeased sometimes.

An Indian Ceremony

The two preparations that I was asked to photograph-
The Henna Ritual and An Indian Engagement, preceded this day which I have deemed, ‘The Indian Ceremony’.
I am sure there are fancier names, but since I am drinking red wine out of a plastic cup and lounging in a hotel room-I ain’t feelin’ too classy.
However, the bride-to-be that I was photographing was the epitome of class.

Let me catch you up: The exquisite bride-to-be was escorted to her waiting future husband, surrounded by family, shrouded from harm.

As she and her entourage entered the expectant ballroom-cheers erupted, cameras flashed and children ran willy nilly with excitement.

The couple sat on their designated thrones; available for photographs-all the while smiling for the better part of an hour.

I do believe she’s had enough.

And then the ‘blessings’ for the couple began.

Money was gifted, flower necklaces adorned their necks, more pictures taken, tummy’s were growling…

I think we were all ready for the buffet at this point. Some of us, more than others….

Purty Concrete Leave

On a recent trip to the north, I was able to see what my fabulously crafty in-law’s were up to.
The evidence of their creativity had taken over their entire basement floor.

My creative in-laws scour the countryside, looking for just the right leaves for their projects.
(My coffee mug was included to show the size and also for sips in between shots.)

Using real leaves, they mold the concrete mixture around the leaf and let it dry. This is one before it’s painted.

My mother-in-law has the patience to painstakingly hand paint each one. She has a gift for patience that I am striving towards.

The colors she chooses are stunning…

…eye-catching…

…and gorgeous. I am so impressed with what these two lovely people can create. I would argue that their best creation, however, was Biceps…but then again, I am a little biased.

The Strange Happenings of Little Rock, Ar.

Fifteen minutes of trekking around the nearly vacant downtown of Little Rock in search of coffee, Biceps and I witnessed several peculiar occurrences.
We had no idea that this southern town would offer a plethora of bizarre events-to be shared with the generations to come.

This, my dear readers, is a bird sticking its fluffy little body out of a small opening in the surface of a storefront. He and many of his friends, live in these holes.
Why are the holes there? One can only speculate.

That “stuff” below the bird is, yes, bird dookie. Apparently, it’s better to live up top than down below.

I think he’s pretty proud of himself and his positioning in life. There’s nothing more irritating than a proud bird.
Moving on…there is much more freakishness to see.

Is this possible by human efforts or has some mythological creature paid the trunk of this car a visit?
Could it have been subject to an anvil dropped by a road runner?
One can only speculate once more.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one:
A box truck drives into a lot. There’s this lonely sign in the lot that says to the box truck, ‘Hey, park really, really close to me. I’m lonely.’

But when the box tried to leave the parking lot, the lonely sign couldn’t bear the thought of being by himself again and he grabbed onto the box truck for dear life.

So, the moral of the story is, never listen to talking signs.
And always take your camera with you when you go to Little Rock.