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Joshua — Tue, 29 Apr 2014 10:35:00 +0000

This past Easter weekend I went home and, with my family, spread my Father’s ashes. In an unceremonious and seemingly uncorrelated event, I decided I wanted to gather several transplants from the home I grew up at to bring back to our new home in Pennsylvania. What transpired from this was a sort of “act of remembering”. I was reminded of pieces of life that will never change, pieces that cannot stay the same and pieces that we carry on in new and different ways.

A poem I wrote for the service:

The Places We Find Those That Carry On

Dad I found you in the pages

Of the Encyclopedia of Organic Gardening

Behind tomato cages of concrete reinforcement wire

And black and white illustrations

Of garden plans.

You were many things.

You taught me people are many things.

Today I choose to remember you this way:

Giver of life

In the planted and plotted,

Buds and suckers

And a life pruned over a lifetime

Hoping – working for a better yield.

Dad, I found you in the sleeves

of 78s and 45s.

Sometimes in-between the Rolling Stones and The Carpenters,

Between Jimmy Dorsey and The Supremes,

Simon and Garfunkle and Chicago

Or Johnny Mathis and Johnny Cash.

God, I hate Johnny Mathis.

Yet, he takes his place among the rest,

Proof that I love you.

Because my Father’s record collection

Is not my Father’s record collection

Without an occasional verse or voice

Or note I’d rather not hear.

Today I choose to remember you this way:

A masterpiece symphony

In a cacophony and unresolving chords.

Listen to the words:

An offering of meaning

For the things we, ourselves cannot articulate.

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Joshua — Tue, 31 Dec 2013 01:05:34 +0000

Six months ago we bought a house. This is the latest update on our home. I included areas that are still a work in progress. It’s been an amazing journey that continues on.

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Joshua — Tue, 19 Nov 2013 12:29:54 +0000

In America and many other countries to say a woman’s place is in the kitchen is to evoke a spectrum of hostile responses and rightfully so. There’s no need for a women’s lib lecture for you to know where we’ve come from and how far we’ve come.

Yet in some countries the kitchen is also the women’s place of empowerment. It is the place that they provide for their families both physically and emotionally through nourishment.

During my time spent in Honduras I toured home after home where women would proudly bring me into their kitchens and show me what they were preparing for their families that evening. As I walked into each home and treaded across everything from tile floors to dusty dirt floors I saw tables spread with multiple courses and other times pots simply filled with corn and water. I began to notice and document the disparity between these women’s lives that in turn reflected the disparity between socioeconomic classes. Yet, more importantly I gazed into the commonality they shared of family, love and generosity. There I found that the portion on the plate was irrelevant to the content of the heart.

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Joshua — Fri, 09 Aug 2013 18:57:00 +0000

Dave and I began a journey in home buying several months ago. It led to a place we will soon call home. Right now it is a well constructed mountain of work. In between the carpet removal and the floor sanding, the demolition and the reconstruction; I’ve done what I know best to do with the details that make up life: make a story in pictures. From time to time you’ll see images of this home, what it means to us and the people who have helped us achieve our goals. They are an army of handymen, family, friends (furry and non-furry) and professionals. They each deserve a thank you and recognition. Inevitably not everyone will be pictured, but they know who they are, what they have done for us and our eternal gratefulness.

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