photography

All posts tagged photography

JD Wilkes of the Legendary Shack Shakers, Asheville NC 02-10-16

Published February 13, 2016 by April Fox

Last week, I interviewed JD Wilkes of the Legendary Shack Shakers. The Songfacts interview will be published shortly, along with a few of my favorite photos from the show at Asheville’s Grey Eagle on February 10, but until then, here are a few of the favorites that didn’t quite make the official article cut. (I’m a writer, not a photographer, so don’t expect too much. I was just fooling around trying to get a few photos to go with my interview.)

 

 

 

 

Movin’ to the Country

Published June 14, 2015 by April Fox

This is our first summer in our new place in the country, and it’s even more beautiful than I expected it to be. I love the quiet of it, the wildlife, the way the storms play pinball off the mountains with the thunder, the way every walk down the driveway shows me something new. I wish I could share the smell of the honeysuckle and the berry bushes, and let you listen in on the birds and cows in the morning and the foxes and coyotes late at night, but I can’t, so these photographs will have to do instead. 

   
             

  

Sunshiney Things

Published May 27, 2015 by April Fox

It’s been one of those days that leaves me stuck for words, tangled up in wishing for a little break from all the sad things going on. So here, again, are some recent photos of sunshiney things and clouds and bugs and other such things that make me slow down and remember that things can be ok in increments, even when the rest of life is not.

azalea

butterfly

spring storm tomato

ant baby apple bedhead bee butterfly2 hose jj more butterflies

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funk and photographs

Published April 17, 2013 by April Fox

A couple weeks ago, beloved and I went to see one of our favorite bands. Before the show, one of the musicians came over and introduced himself, expressed his gratitude that we came, and then told me he’s one of my biggest fans and mentioned that I hadn’t written much lately.

That was weird. Incredibly kind, and flattering, and humbling (we’re talking a Grammy Award-winning artist here, and from our occasional interaction on Facebook, I know he’s an intelligent and thoughtful human) but it was unexpected and I didn’t know what to sayI still don’t quite get why people want to read what comes out of my head, and the only answer I had for him was the truth: “I don’t have anything to say.” I haven’t for a while, and if you’ve followed this blog for any length of time, you know that’s not that unusual. I get in funks, and it’s hard to say much of anything at all. Nothing comes out right. Nobody wants to hear it. And the truth is, I don’t want to say anything. I just need to be quiet. This particular funk has lasted longer than most. There are days here and there–sometimes just a few hours at a time–when I feel almost normal. I can smile and laugh at work, I can play with the kids, I’m hardly debilitated… just-depleted. Quiet.

I take a lot of pictures, though. I try to capture the happy in little snapshots, so I can hold on to it for later. Here again are a few snapshots of happy. Several of these were taken by beloved; you’ll likely be able to tell which ones they are, but I’ll note them anyway.

So anyway, I wrote a little something earlier, and maybe I’ll find more to say as the weather starts turning back toward summer, but until then, here’s a little happy I’ll share with you.

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Happy little insect friend

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photo by Anthony Dorion

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photo by Anthony Dorion

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photo by Anthony Dorion

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Tiny Pretty Things

Published June 24, 2012 by April Fox

So in the past few days, I’ve been told that I’m not competent to run a cash register because of the color of my hair, my microwave died, and the driver’s side window on my car is apparently going through a rebellious phase and refuses to go up half the time. I spent all day yesterday pounding the pavement (literally; I was pissed off and stomping up the sidewalk) looking for jobs, and I got two offers: one from an old drunk who offered me 20 bucks to go to the drum circle that had been held the night before, and one from a guy who wants to dress me up and take my picture. (That one seems legit, and I might go for it.)

Now I have “The Boxer” in my head. I don’t think there’s a Seventh Avenue here, though.

Anyway. I’m in a funk. A big, sucky, stinky, fuck-the-world-and-everything-in-it funk.

And then driving home today, I’m talking to beloved about the photo shoot thing, and he tells me he doesn’t care for the shots I did a few years ago, because I don’t look like me in them. [In my mind, that’s a good thing. I’m not the least photogenic, and the only way I like being in front of the camera is if I don’t look like myself. And these were for a zombie calendar, so it’s probably good that I don’t always look bloody and half-eaten.] And then a minute later, out of the blue, I catch him looking at me (and not the road-it’s a good thing he drives like a little old man) and he says, “You’re pretty. I like looking at you.”

And then I remembered that I was on the way home to our little house, and my babies would be home soon, and that every day I get to wake up next to the nicest man in the world, with the knowledge that I created the most amazing kids in the world, and the funk didn’t leave but I got a little of my fuck-off attitude back and I decided not to let it take away all my happiness.

So I came home and fed the dog, and looked at my little world through happier eyes, and captured a bit of it on film. I needed a bit of pretty today. Here is what I found.

Rose of Sharon bud, growing near the porch.

Scooby Cat, lounging on the porch rail.

Home.

Flowers in the front yard.

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