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L ast night, while watching School of Rock, I turned to JD and asked him who he liked more: Polo or me. Polo, of course. His answer was easy and uncomplicated and smugly proffered. Apparently, permeating the bond between my man and my dog is an impossible feat. ...And the best thing about Polo, JD continued is that he doesn't talk back. I debated between retorting with a oration of Why Talking Back is Beneficial, and remaining silent. I opted for the latter because if I didn't, I'd make Polo look even better.
But the truth of the matter is that Polo holds a special spot in both our hearts. A quiet nook JD can never touch. Polo fills the gaps and makes us happier, which earns him the title of King of the House. |
| I'm not lying when I say Polo hated me while I took his picture. Just look at him. If he could talk, he'd be all, Woman, I LOATHE you. |
    
A s we sat in traffic on our way to church yesterday, I reminded JD Saks Fifth Avenue was having a shoe sale. You know, just in case he wanted to surprise me with anything in the foreseeable future. We spoke about shopping, finding a last-minute recipe for creamed corn, and Black Friday. Our moods were light and--dare I say it--almost trivial as we made our way to church.
Located in the outskirts of East Los Angeles, our church aims to help the community in every capacity. During this holiday season, it seems like the economic downturn has affected the working class community the hardest, so our church hosted a free Thanksgiving dinner, and also gave away clothes and boxes of food for those in need. JD and I volunteered to photograph the event and while I thought I knew what was in store, I had no idea. At all. When we arrived, literally thousands of people waited in line for a hot meal and church donations.
With my camera pressed against my face, I cried.
I cried for the thousands of people in need this holiday season. I cried for the children excitedly squeezing their new toys. And, moreso, I cried for my selfish inability to be thankful for the things that matter. Not shoe sales at Saks.
Last night I was reminded of how blessed I am. I am thankful that I have EVERYTHING that matters in life: To be loved by those you love. And I could not ask for more.
Happy Thanksgiving! |
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Brittany and Blake : Wedding
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© Jasmine Star. This post cannot be republished without permission. Stealing makes me sad. |
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T here wasn't a soul who didn't know. Crowded streets parted much like the Red Sea when the beautiful couple floated past them, cars honked in a triple series of beep-beep-beeeeep!, and store owners came out to applaud such a momentous day. There wasn't a soul who didn't know Brittany and Blake were two of the happiest people in the world--no, the universe--marrying each other. Their smiles were contagious and if emotion was visible, bright rays of pink, yellow, and orange would emanate from their pores...they were happy. Ecstatic. Elated. And everyone knew.
Blake and Brittany were college sweethearts who stayed by each other's sides when life got jagged and unpredictable. Blake held her hand when she couldn't go further and together they traversed the streets of Azusa and the proverbial paths of life together. Happy. Ecstatic. Elated. And everyone knew.
The sun broke through the scattered clouds on Saturday afternoon and illuminated the already bright and happy day. Two amazing souls were uniting and the world--no, the universe--wanted to congratulate them. Brittany and Blake walked Downtown streets together before the ceremony and soaked up the attention wedded bliss affords. They waved to strangers, hollered back at the honking cars, and thanked strangers for their well wishes. They were happy. Ecstatic. Elated. And everyone knew.
Britt and Blake...would it be weird if I told you I felt your love? Like the same way I felt the beads on Brittany's wedding dress, I truly felt the love you share. Thank you for allowing JD and me to document the day when God stopped to give you the blessing of foreverness. I felt so incredibly happy to commemorate your lives together and I can't wait to see what the future holds for some of the most amazing and fabulous people I know! Have a blast in the Mexican Riviera and enjoy your first Thanksgiving as husband and wife! Much Love and Appreciation...J* |
| Brittany and her mother share an uncanny resemblance, no? |
| JD captured this shot of Blake just moments before seeing Brittany. They opted to meet before the ceremony and enjoy a few moments together... |
| The first time they saw each other was so beautiful...I got all teary-eyed! :) |
| Brittany and Blake spent the time in advance to scope out a downtown area close to their church and I loved the locations they chose!! I have the most amazing clients...really, I do. |
| I was photographing the couple outside underneath scaffolding (com'on...nothing says romance like a construction site!) when the architect came outside. I thought he was going to ask us to leave, but, instead, offered his building to shoot in for a few minutes before the other guys came back from break....HELLLLLLLO! |
| I adored their bridal party... |
| While I was shooting the guys, JD captured this shot of the girls just hanging out... |
| Many thanks to JD for stopping traffic for me...it was a crowded Saturday afternoon, but I begged JD to stop cars so I could snag this shot... |
| Blake and Brittany's reaction to hoots and hollers from their bridal party... |
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Where Santa Goes on Vacation
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I spent the yesterday afternoon with a dear friend who’s moving from California—after living here for just over a year—later this week. As we walked Polo, she turned to me and asked, How do you get in the Christmas spirit out here? I assumed that ‘out here’ was a totally loving, favorable, and fabulous reference to the most beautiful state in America. Obviously.
It’s November, Internet. And I wore flip-flops, a tank top, and jeans as we meandered in the 80-degree weather. Unless Santa Claus wanted to vacation, California doesn’t really scream White Christmas, if you know what I mean. Growing up in the Golden State, I never had a chimney and was told Santa crept in through out dryer lint trap. And Rudolf? Well, he stayed parked on our black gravel driveway.
I didn’t know how to aptly respond to my friend’s question, so I resorted to saying tanning in a red and green bathing suit really puts one in the holiday spirit. Singing The Beach Boys Christmas carols while decorating your house with the air-conditioner blowing spices up holiday cheer. Sipping on frozen hot chocolate and trimming the tree sometimes does the trick.
And, then, I wasn’t so sure. I mean, she spoke about snowmen, fireplaces, and bundling in down jackets. And what did I proffer? Iced peppermint coffee at Starbucks?! Oh, Internet, what’s a girl to do? I am searching for the perfect way to get into the holiday spirit in an unconventional way…the person with the best idea will get an iTunes gift card…you know, because it’s the season of giving and all! ;)
Happy Monday!
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H er voice cracked on the other end of the phone. I knew she was holding back tears and trying to keep the tepid surface of her emotions from rippling. I knew what she was trying to say, but let the silence punctuate her fragmented articulation. My best friend had--finally, after years of wishing--come to grips with the reality of her passion. She went to college, earned a Master's Degree, then found a respectable job at a non-profit organization. Just like a good little girl should.
This past week she finally allowed herself to come to grips with the idea of her unhappiness. Just like a Monet painting, her life appeared to be beautiful and perfect from afar, but when you stand close enough, you see it's just one big mess. She admitted to knowing what she really wanted to do with her life--an unyielding passion that's been brewing for years--but just doesn't know how or where to begin. I remained silent. When listening to a friend's dream, fragmented articulation is just fine.
I wanted to shake her. The kind of shake you might do to a person twitching from a nightmare. Wake Up! I wanted to tell her to run, and not stop until her lungs felt like they were about to explode and snot danced in her nostrils. Run toward your dream and don't stop until you can feel it on your on your fingertips. Quitting or, worse, not trying is the easy route and a path marked with convenient stores, all-night diners, and tow-trucks. Dust your ego off, and start failing. Yes, failing. Because you can only fail so long at something before you actually start succeeding.
When I first started my business, I dreamed of the day when I'd be able to do what I love; do what I thought only the best were allowed to do. To wake up, work, eat, and breathe at my discretion, away from timecards and watercoolers. Still to this day I'm running hard toward my dream. My lungs are on the verge of exploding and the snot...well, the snot was wiped on my sweatshirt sleeve. I hate the whole dancing in my nostril thing.
Yesterday, JD and Polo returned from a short walk and I looked up from my computer to see JD reveal what hid in the palm of his hand. Two kumquats were placed on my desk. JD picks them off a neighbor's tree and brings them as a surprise midday treat, away from timecards and watercoolers. I picked up the kumquats and they felt like my dream.
Friend, I know you're reading this. Please run and don't stop chasing your dream. Life's too short to stand by the watercooler. |
| **A special CONGRATS goes to Lauren Shaw of The Royal Engagement for being my 17,000th Blog Commentor! She'll be getting a delicious iTunes card for spreading a little cyber love!** |
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