wildflowers, weeds, and whatnot

sarah brennan

sarah brennan
December 31
Greetings! I often forget to cross-post here. You can find me at as well.


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JUNE 10, 2012 7:41PM

doing, being, do be do be do be do

Rate: 7 Flag

You do not have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.

C.S. Lewis

Sweetness and I were invited to dinner last night at some friends we hadn’t spent time with in a while. As Catherine and I hugged hello, she laughed and said she felt she was pretty aware of what’s going on in our lives, because of Facebook, and this blog. And then she asked me a question that stumped me. “How long have you been a writer?”


I’m a writer? Nawwwww…writers are those madly creative people who spin whole worlds into being, complete with characters and …plots. Or those pure souls who craft poems, whittling away excess syllables, and throwing in alliteration, or possibly …what is that fancy word…(”soirée?” offers Kevin. No. Poetical stuff.) assonance. (I had to look that one up.) “I’m not a writer,” I protested. I just spew whatever comes out of the top of my head.

Which is somewhat problematic, because somewhere in the churning murk that lies beneath my sparkly goof there breathes … the next Iteration of Me, I guess, trying to get out into the world. Skimming the crud off the top may or may not be the best way to allow Whoever That Is to come on out and play. And lo, the murk has been churning lately.

Turns out that Ms. Sparkle here does not like day after day of rain, particularly when combined with a big push at work all last week. I don’t think there is a yoga pose called “butt in chair”. If there were, I’d be pretty good at it by now. It’s a toss-up as to what hurts more: my lower back, or my joie de vivre.

That said, dinner was lovely. As if the conversation weren’t delicious enough, there was PIE, and we unabashedly buried our faces in it and had two platefuls apiece.


Catherine grows these insanely bountiful African violets.

Today was sunny, but I find it takes my mood a while to dig itself out from the extra baggage I manage to generate at times like these. So while the day was gorgeous, I’ve been mopy. My aching back, the product of not just my special Butt in Chair pose but possibly (oops) some improper form at the gym, played a part. And then there were the usual suspects: “I should be (insert present participle verb) more”. “I’m in a bad mood – therefore, I am Failing at Life”. At this point, it’s all subliminal – the words themselves don’t even hit the radar screen. I don’t need them to: I know what they’re saying. They’re saying “just being, isn’t enough”.

Ah, that old chestnut.

Another friend suggested I take a picture of an individual plant every day, and assemble a time-lapse video, so I figured I’d start with yesterday’s brown-eyed susans.

  DSC_0532 (3)

I learned that somebody likes eating their stalks, which is just plain wrong.

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Fortunately, itty bitty, baby, and big sis were fine. That’s baby, above.

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And big sis.

Does this make me a photographer? Do I get to call myself a photographer if I don’t actually know how to set the shutter, aperture, and ISO all at the same time?

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We have way more milkweed than we did last year. I think.

DSC_0579 (3)


I notice I don’t have a problem being an amateur at all of this – the study of local flora, photographing it, slapping some words down about it. All I know is, I love to do it. I guess it doesn’t matter to me whether or not the words “writer” or “photographer” apply. It’s like running: if you run, you’re a runner. Speed don’t make no difference. Other people’s opinions? Pshhhh.

Maybe it’s the same everywhere: I am what I am, I do what I do, regardless of what others call it.

snoopy - four

Snoopy getting his Snoopy on.

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I think it was Poppeye who passed that piece of wisdom first, but who cares. You are what you are, and enjoying what you do. That's what matters, doesn't it? The African violets are captured perfectly - with that powdery luster on the petals.

You know Fusun, I had that same thought about Popeye as I wrote that bit!
""Maybe it’s the same everywhere: I am what I am, I do what I do, regardless of what others call it. ...I guess, trying to get out into the world."".Sarah,I can totally connect with you,although it is certain that I will never be able to take such great images as you.I totally feel you!!!!Excellent thinking and great images,as always!!!!And I loved this one cause you reminded me Snooρ needed in this situations!!!!
Sure you're a writer. Who else made all those squiggly little things up there ?

Who else said, "... the next Iteration of Me," or

"I don’t think there is a yoga pose called “butt in chair”, or

"I know what they’re saying. They’re saying “just being, isn’t enough”."

& of course you're a photographer. Sheesh.

I cook ~ it makes me a cook. I share, it makes my friends happy.
Wasn't it old Tom Hardy who said, " The road to a true philosophy of life seems to lie in humbly recording the diverse readings of its phenomena." ?

& Joni Mitchell who said, simply, "Pay attention," ?

But ps. You know it wasn't 'wrong' for the little one who ate the top off the brown-eyed Susan, don't you ? Looks like he loved it !

What a delightful post of a place, thank you.
Ahh, but just being ...
is the key ...
the greatest key ...
for those who dare ...
reach for it ...
for those who love ...
the reaching ...
for the moments when we ...
find ...
our joie de vivre ...
and through our words ...
our photographs ...
our whatever it is and ...
our all it is ...
share ...
our love ...

also ... when in doubt, I think,
read Kim’s words and ...
listen to his wisdom ...

lovely this ...
all ...
of this ...
I think you are a blogger and a reporter. Writer always seemed so focused somehow. Blogging is such a new thing and it is very satisfying. When I was young I thought being a journalist would be fun. I think that is what we do here tho. I love your view of the world. Thanks for looking at things so closely.
Lovely respite from the day to day BS. Thank you for the gorgeous flowers. I think you are a photographer. Rated.