THE HANDS OF LABOR AND LOVE

This photo was taken just before my Mother died. It was something that she and I always loved, the beauty of hands. I saw her hands and simply shot quickly, to preserve in my memory the beauty of hers, which had given so much to myself and others.

In order to take a picture of my Mother, you just did it, and asked later. She got used to me with my camera, loved whatever photos I took for her. The best photos were taken when she was unaware. She always knew and understood, so it was always ok, even though we had the same discussion. She would just laugh, and ask for her makeup, (otherwise known as "warpaint") saying that "a little bit of powder, and a little bit of paint, always makes an old lady, what she ain't".

We often wonder at the desolation of life.

As if we were wandering through a virtual desert

while

still attempting to

cope with the difficulties

of life.

How often have we really looked at the seeming desolation around us?

How often have we attempted to see,

not the starkness

or

desolation

but the

intrinsic beauty which is there?

If we continue to view

only the negative

we then fail to see the most

beautiful visions

that we are capable of...

The Beauty of Nature

and all that surrounds us

as it

envelops our minds,

our hearts

and

our souls

cg