What if...

... pigs really could fly? (Would they have to use radar to avoid other air traffic?)

... hell did freeze over? (How would we know?)

... the world really was flat? (Where would the edge be? Would California actually fall into the sea?)

... my grandmother really did have wheels? (Would she in fact have been a trolley car? Where would the passengers sit?)

... someone really did cut off their nose to spite their face? (Wouldn't it leave a gaping bloody hole? Yuck.)

... there really were green men from Mars? (What color would the women be?)

... a watched pot never actually boiled? (Would be all have to cook our pasta blindfolded?)

... all those lurkers actually left a comment and said hello. (We might just say hello back, and give a (virtual) smile, and from there who knows what lovely things could happen.)

What's your what if?
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Life in the shadows - sometimes it's what you don't see

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"Life in the Shadows"

Sometimes what's most striking is what you don't see.

The absense of light creates its own reality.

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I've been feeling pulled in quite a few directions lately, creatively speaking, and it's painfully obvious in my scattered unfocused umm, eclectic, yes, let's go with that, my eclectic recent blog content. If you visited one day you might be utterly certain that this was a photography blog, on another day just as certain that it was a straightforward momblog, or perhaps it's a writing blog, or maybe a "mom to a special needs child" blog, or is it an expat blog, and hey, wait a minute, didn't I see a few recipes in here as well, maybe it's a food blog (no, it's not. At least not most of the time. Sorry.)
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Because this blog IS, in fact, above all else a reflection of my life, it turns out that that's what you get. A hodge-podge. A mish-mash. A big gigantic mess. An assortment. A variety. A melange. A... (Ok, ok, I'll shut up now with the images. No need to run from the room screaming.)
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It accompanies me on my path. Sometimes it follows, like when I talk about my life here in Israel or about my challenges and triumphs in parenting two very different but utterly wonderful kids. Other times it walks alongside, for example when I share a recipe for chicken in green curry sauce or no-knead-beer-bread. And there are times when it actually leads me, like when I actively search for subject matter for writing prompts or photography projects.
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I don't always, or even often, know what is hanging out there in the shadows of my mind, waiting to be set free. What wanted to be said yesterday may not want to be said tomorrow. Sometimes I post of my challenges with Maya (which I might mention are fewer at the moment if I weren't so afraid of tempting the fates, so I won't. Nope, even this faint whisper was too much. The Fates were tempted and everything went to hell. 'Nuff said.) so that I can wrap myself in this larger community of "parents who understand" while other times it feels too raw, too exposed. Sometimes it's the muses who need to be heard, to tell the mother to go put her feet up for a bit and curl up with a good book and a cute umbrella drink while they take over the shop for a while. The only problem there is that the writing muse and the photography muse don't always play nicely together, with each one feeling like they should have the starring role, the queen of the blog, so to speak. We've been learning to share our toys nicely, some days more successfully than others, so you may start seeing more of their combined efforts in the days to come. On the other hand, you may not.
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You'll just have to come by each day and see for yourselves who won that morning's catfight.
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The photo Plant in Shadow has been removed from this post as it has been accepted for publication elsewhere.

These photos, and the words which they then called into being, are my response to the Matinee Muse prompt "life in the shadows". I love the fact that this new site (which grew out of the former Writers Island in more ways than one, as it's the creation of Writers Island's Rob's own son) has launched itself as a "creativity" prompt, encouraging submissions in a variety of media. Some days it's the words that come almost of their own volition, tripping over each other in their hurry to be heard, while other days it's the images which cry out to be seen. And sometimes, on very lucky days, it's both.

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