I’ve been sitting here seriously considering the 100 Strangers project.* Just now a man, probably my parents’ age, finished up visiting with a young acquaintance (I’d guess early twenties). As the younger guy stood up to leave, the man commented on his Bible (ESV in the box, a gift from his parents according to his girlfriend). The man held up his Blackberry and said, “Here’s my Bible. Just hit ‘Jesus.’ Get all the answers you want.” I so wish I had my camera with me—I would have asked him to be my first stranger portrait. Darn.

*I’ve heard about this kind of project for a while. It intrigues and scares me. Once in a while I read about someone who is doing it *because* it scares them, which I just don’t understand. I think I might like it if I would just take my time and not get stressed out about getting it done.

Me: Hey, what’s your name, Bud?

Simon: Iss Simon [kinda sounds like “Tye-bon”].

Me: Okay, what’s your brother’s name?

Simon: Baby Een.

Me: What’s Daddy’s brother’s name?

Simon: Hans Baby. [We worked on the concept that Hans is Jason’s brother like Ian is Simon’s brother.]

Me: What’s Mommy’s sister’s name?

Simon: Da [Rhonda].

Me: Okay, here’s a harder one: what is Mommy’s daddy’s name? [I was going for “Papa.”]

Simon: [Long pause] . . . Mama’s dada!

Last week we drove out to Colorado to visit the Sittlers for a few days that went all too quickly. These are a handful of my favorite photos from the trip. You can see more here.

Shelli is my oldest friend (in the sense that we’ve been friends the longest, not that she’s aged). We’ve been friends for twenty-five years, and she’s got at least five years on anyone else (well, except Neil; we all grew up together). Often when we get together I just get overwhelmed—in the best way possible—that yesterday we were twelve years old, thinking it was cool to call into Sweet 98, somewhat seriously wanting the Altar Boys to play at our weddings, and making up pretend conversations that our future husbands would have, and that today here we are holding each other’s kids.

These two were often at odds—it’s pretty hard to share when you’re two. But when they played together, oh my. The cuteness paralyzed me. Ezra absolutely melts my heart with his sweetness. And his affirmative grunts—well, you probably just have to hear it, but he’s hilarious.

Simon’s near-constant companion for the week was this little red guitar. He has recently taken up air guitar as well.

Asher is a delightfully energetic kid. I adore his funny, random ways. And he can run like a cheetah; it’s really something to see.

One of the things I did on our vacation was read my camera’s manual. I like how this picture turned out—and especially because I made the silhouettes on purpose.

It’s hard to describe why Neil is so cool and funny. He just is.

Because are you kidding me? Look at this guy!

This morning after we had played our hearts out in a new-to-us park, we ventured into the surrounding neighborhood for a long(ish) walk. Simon led the way, dutifully reaching for my hand whenever he wanted to cross a street (so sweet). Ian dozed in the stroller; his only request was that we keep moving at a steady, even if slow, pace. Simon stopped for sticks, occasionally trading for a bigger one; tried to peek into garbage cans (no no, blechy) or recycling bins (no no, blechy); pointed out the spots where recent rains had washed dirt across the sidewalk (unlike every other kid on the planet, he thinks dirt is “uh-oh!”); and squatted to check out dried “babies” (trans. baby worms). At one point he stooped to dig a stick into the crack of a sidewalk and lingered for a good five minutes before Ian reminded us it was time to move on (perhaps Ian was also feeling the displeasure of the woman across the street who kept peeking out her window at us shady characters).

It was my kind of morning. I love a good ramble—not the adult kind of rambling that happens when you’re restless and listless and bored, but the kid kind of ramble, when you’re just wandering around because, you know, what else are you doing? When every squirrel and bird is worth celebrating. When around every corner is an adventure. Or not. Whatever.

On the one hand, I can’t believe our little squisher is already six months old, but at the same time I can’t believe it’s only been six months—it seems like we’ve always had Ian. We celebrated with a bite of smashed banana, which he couldn’t have cared less about.

We headed for the back corner of Yia Yia’s at noon on Friday. The light was fantastic, and I would have loved to play with the camera for a while, but alas, work and naps could wait no longer.

I realize this barely counts as a self-portrait, but I really like it as a snapshot of our family. Jason is trying to make Simon a trade—his crusts for Simon’s bread. Simon declined. And Ian is chewing on the camera strap.

This one was taken just fooling around with the camera while we were sitting on the front sidewalk waiting for Jason to get home from work. I am always pretty weary by this time of day, and it shows.

Likewise I feel like I’m running out of steam on the whole self-portrait project, and I’m glad it’s coming to a close. On the whole, I’m glad I tried it—I’ve learned a little about myself, a little about my camera, and a little about my own creative process. I actually do have a few more ideas for SPs that I may (or may not) try to take eventually, but I’m ready to turn my creative attentions outward for a while again.

This one was taken in the bathroom at the Walt library branch. I had “remembered” the tiles as green/teal and the mirror as a huge piece of glass covering the whole wall, so imagine my surprise to find blue tile on one wall, white on the other, and two huge round mirrors. The shots I had planned out probably wouldn’t have worked anyway, and I thought the round mirrors made for some really interesting possibilities.

Mirrors really throw me off, and it is difficult for me to picture what the images will look like in terms of what will end up where (in this photo, I couldn’t really figure out where the blue would be and what would be behind me). It seems so obvious once I check the image in the display screen, but for the life of me I can’t seem to work it out before I snap the picture. Truth be told, I’ve always had trouble with spatial reasoning.

I love how much Simon is talking these days. He’s definitely at the stage where it’s helpful to have an interpreter (usually Mommy) around to help give some context for his very sincere storytelling.

Here are a few of Simon’s most commonly used phrases, should you find yourself in conversation with him:

Choo Choo boom! (trans. “The train crashed [went boom]!”)—This likely comes from a Thomas the Tank Engine story. It is often used immediately following a greeting—he likes to dive right into conversation. Common variations include Buzz [Lightyear] boom! and Mama/Dada boom or Choo Choo stnuck no (trans. “Choo Choo got stuck in the snow”).

Oh da. (trans. “Oh, yes”)

Eat doats (trans. “Feed the goats”)—Simon loves to feed the goats at the Lincoln Children’s Zoo. He uses “feed” and “eat” interchangeably, so while “eat doats” is adorable, “Mama eat Baby” (trans. “Mama is feeding Ian” or “Mama, it’s time to feed Baby”) is rather disturbing.

Iss nine up (looking at his wrist) (trans. “It’s nine o’clock. Time to get up.”)—I have no idea where he got this, but he says either as an answer to the question What time is it? or as a protest against bedtime.

Meet Dada (trans. “It’s time to go meet Daddy.”) —Simon loves to walk to meet Jason as he walks home from work. The only problem is that he usually starts asking to go around 4 pm (Jason doesn’t usually get off work until 6).

I no poo poo! I no poo poo!—Well, this one probably doesn’t need translation. He can’t be trusted, though; he often protests even when he does need a diaper change.

I no teenty (trans. “I’m not stinky”)—See previous entry. He’ll also deny it if you say his feet are stinky or if you call him Stinky Pete (a reference to Toy Story 2).

No boots—Most everyone recognizes Simon’s yellow boots. We’ve been trying to wean him off of them, but I think he got so used to people commenting on his boots every time we’d go anywhere (every. time.) that now he feels the need to either point out (to friends or strangers) that he’s not wearing them. (If he is wearing them, he’ll say, “I boots.”)

Do meents (trans. “Two mints [please]”)—Simon is hooked on breath mints and requests them in pairs. He will also accept two “beans” (any kind of small, round candy; originally jelly beans).

Baby Een boo ice (trans. “Baby Ian has blue eyes”)—He will also tell you, “I bown ice” (“I have brown eyes”), Mama and Papa (Grandpa Carlson) have “bown ice”; Dada, Grandpa (Morehead), and Grandma (Morehead) have “boo ice”; and Nana (Grandma Carlson) has “geen ice” (green eyes).

Buzz ond! (trans. “Buzz says, ‘To infinity and beyond!’”)—Another reference to the Toy Story movies.

Dah huh! (no trans.)—He says this with great enthusiasm whenever you repeat back to him what he was trying to communicate.

Geen doghh! (trans. “Green means ‘go’!”)—I couldn’t figure this out for a long time because we’ve been saying it for quite a while with no indication that he understood. He has been saying “Top!” (“Stop!”) for a while now (but he still has no word for “red”).

I no nigh nigh/Iss no nigh nigh (trans. “I don’t want to go to bed/It’s not bedtime”)—Well, what kid does, especially in the summer?

Iss daaahhk, iss night (trans. “It’s dark; it’s night”)—An observation, seemingly unconnected in his mind to bedtime.

Ah done (trans. “All done” or possibly “I’m done”)—Lately he’s been getting up from his naps and saying, “Mama, Ah done nigh nigh.”

I’m just going to say that I didn’t expect to feel nearly as self-conscious photographing myself as I do. It didn’t occur to me that that would be one of the harder aspects of this undertaking. Getting the first two shots wasn’t so bad, since they were taken in the privacy of my own car (though I suppose that mindset is why people get caught picking their noses at stoplights). For the third one, though, I felt downright silly—and rightly so.

Today’s shot (and tomorrow’s as well) was taken in a public restroom (does anyone want to guess where?), one that locks and is never busy, especially during the time of day when I was there. But no sooner had I pulled out the camera and fired off a couple of stray shots (taking self-portraits in a mirror is considerably harder than it looks) than someone tried the door. After that I was flustered and called this one “good enough” (even if I have all the time in the world, I still find I don’t know what to do with my face, expressionwise). The other location I used today was even worse—it was the kind where someone could have walked in at any time (no one did, but my mind was only half on what I was doing because I was trying to decide if I would try to explain or quick put the camera away before I got “caught”).

And equally surprising to me is the fact that I don’t mind posting the photos. I mean, yes, I suppose I do feel a bit more vulnerable than usual, but I think I might have braced myself for that such that the reality is not as bad as I was thinking it might be. It occurs to me that this is a personal blog, so it’s pretty much about me in some way, shape, or form all the time anyway, so “putting myself out there” is not actually new—different form, same blah blah blah.

But probably the real reason that I’m not feeling as self-conscious about posting photos of myself this week is that the project is turning out to be much less about my appearance—do I look pretty?—than I initially thought. That said, I do find myself worrying more about what people will think of the photos as art—is it interesting?—than I usually do with my “normal” blog fodder. And, of course, that’s just a different kind of vanity.