Driving home tonight on this treacherous icy road, a host to many a careless crash, with chattering teeth at -28° C, I ponder on Zeny’s text for me to write. Write about what? The truth is that I haven’t written anything for a long time except for work-related and academic papers. So what’s there to write about? Hmmm… How about what the batch means to me? That sounds manageable. I can recite my thoughts right now in the midst of all these flashing lights and sirens.
The Batch means a lot to me. It was part of the best years of my life, spent with mentors whose words led me through unpaved roads, through unknown places with blank faces. The best years of my life spent with friends I’ve kept for life. Friends who continue to amaze me with their wisdom, talents, camaraderie, compassion… Friends who trusted me and made me part of so much energy for the Literary Society, the Sir Thomas More play, the Christmas carolling, the visit to the Sisters of Charity, and so much more. So much to give and so much beauty in every way I consider unparalleled with the new minds and souls I’ve encountered elsewhere. Nothing beats the character of this Batch. I salute you all for what you’ve done and continue to do. Note that I am with you wherever I may be. I thank you all for those best years that made me what I am now and took me far and wide. Wishing you all many more truly wonderful years!
Monday, January 16, 2012
Friday, October 14, 2011
Just kiddin' kindergartners
At four years old:
Edison trips and scrapes his hand. The teacher consoles him and says, “It’s all right, Edison. We’ll just wash it and you’ll see that it’s all right.” “No!” cries Edison “It’s broken!” After some thought, the teacher says, “With this Band-Aid though, it’s not broken anymore. See!” And Edison smiles. Thanks to the maker of Band-Aid. Teachers are fixing “breakages”.
The children are allowed to share a mat on the floor and play during their free time. Adam shares a mat with Anton and plays with dinosaurs while Liza shares a mat with Nick and plays with farm animals. Adam, however, tends to “walk” his dinosaur from his mat to that of Liza (who has started complaining about it), so the teacher intervenes and says, “Adam, this is the mat of Liza and Nick and that is your mat with Anton. Where should you be playing?” “At home,” Adam says. Yeah, right.
At five years old:
Teacher: I’m a grandma, too.
Student: No, you’re not.
Teacher: Why do you think so?
Student: Because you don’t walk like this. (She stoops and pretends to walk slowly with a stick.)
Teacher: Well, I don’t have to be very old to be a grandma. Look at Mandy’s grandma, she’s younger than me.
Student: Why? How many are you?
Teacher: You mean, how old I am?
Student: Yeah. How many old are you?
The teacher brings her laptop to class for the first time. Brenda approaches her with her usual big smile and sweet voice, “I like your little computer. It’s a girl computer. My Dad’s computer is big. It’s a boy computer.” Yikes!
Edison trips and scrapes his hand. The teacher consoles him and says, “It’s all right, Edison. We’ll just wash it and you’ll see that it’s all right.” “No!” cries Edison “It’s broken!” After some thought, the teacher says, “With this Band-Aid though, it’s not broken anymore. See!” And Edison smiles. Thanks to the maker of Band-Aid. Teachers are fixing “breakages”.
The children are allowed to share a mat on the floor and play during their free time. Adam shares a mat with Anton and plays with dinosaurs while Liza shares a mat with Nick and plays with farm animals. Adam, however, tends to “walk” his dinosaur from his mat to that of Liza (who has started complaining about it), so the teacher intervenes and says, “Adam, this is the mat of Liza and Nick and that is your mat with Anton. Where should you be playing?” “At home,” Adam says. Yeah, right.
At five years old:
Teacher: I’m a grandma, too.
Student: No, you’re not.
Teacher: Why do you think so?
Student: Because you don’t walk like this. (She stoops and pretends to walk slowly with a stick.)
Teacher: Well, I don’t have to be very old to be a grandma. Look at Mandy’s grandma, she’s younger than me.
Student: Why? How many are you?
Teacher: You mean, how old I am?
Student: Yeah. How many old are you?
The teacher brings her laptop to class for the first time. Brenda approaches her with her usual big smile and sweet voice, “I like your little computer. It’s a girl computer. My Dad’s computer is big. It’s a boy computer.” Yikes!
Monday, October 03, 2011
Sunday, October 02, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Just when I’m about to give up…
Ladybugs, ladybirds, or lady beetles. Whichever name you prefer, they’re the same bug that has fascinated me since I was little. This time, I see how they bring joy to Kindergarten students who pick them up with their tiny fingers or with a leaf and let them crawl all over them during outdoor time. Some giggle as they’re tickled by the bugs while others scream once they feel the sharp spines on the bugs’ legs. If they’re told to put the bugs in the garden, they do so but they hang by the garden tirelessly picking up the bugs and placing them on the flowers (as that’s what they see me do all the time). Instead of enjoying the playground equipment, some children simply stay by the garden as if playing “spot a bug and pick it up”. When a teacher hears “Eew! It peed on me,” it’s time to send someone to wash his/her hands. (This yellow/orange stinky goo is actually blood excreted by the bugs for feeling threatened.)
One day, I thought of using my 58mm close-up lens 500D and taking pictures of the ladybugs so that the children will have photos to enjoy during the long cold winter they will spend mostly indoors. As I take pictures during my break, however, the children shifted their interest to my camera. “Can I see, Miss Lina?” said all the tiny voices. “There’s nothing to see. Just put the ladybugs on the flowers, please,” I lied, of course. So they did, but I ended up with a lot of blurry shots because their hands were either on my shoulders or arms while trying to peek on the LCD screen.
It was time to give up.
During the weekend while preparing my little garden for spring bulbs, I spotted a ladybug on the ground. I picked it up and placed it on a cinquefoil and then ran into the house to get my 100 mm macro lens attached to an extension tube, and my tripod.
I thought that there might be time to set up as this bug wasn’t moving a lot. It was mid-afternoon so there was soft lighting and not a lot of wind. I thought it was perfect. When I got back to my “studio,” however, the bug was nowhere to be found. Oh, no! It was exploring the plant, so I just followed it with my lens. A fascinating sight behind a macro lens, however, was seeing the bug open its hard protective shell called elytra (or forewings), extend its black wings from underneath, and lift its elytra.
Uh-oh… My “model” was going to fly away and leave me. But for some reason, it did not. It simply lowered its elytra and withdrew its wings. Phew! I was able to take more shots this day but as my fingers were getting tired, I decided to use the self-timer. The noise, however, stressed the bug and it lifted its elytra several times to give me some final warnings. I thought the punishment on the bug was enough and I ended the session.
Today, while watering the plants, I noticed a lot of ladybugs on the lawn. It was like seeing tiny orange and red mushrooms that sprouted everywhere overnight. They were easy to spot as they settled at the tip of grass blades. I picked them gently with my big fingers. Whenever they fell on the ground, they quickly climbed back to the tip again (for my convenience, I thought). I picked five or more at a time and kept them in my closed fist while I ran to the backyard where there was no direct sunlight. Just like before, I shoved them on the few blooms in the garden and ran into the house for my macro lens and tripod. I thought that with so many bugs, I wouldn’t run out of models. I also set the objective of this session: to take a photo of a bug in flight or simply with open elytra. The big problem this time, however, was the strong wind which would surely blur the photos. I tried anyway and replaced my models several times after the others flew off. This session took longer than yesterday’s as the bugs stayed under the petals to look for their favourite food: aphids. Once they surfaced, however, they scurried from the tip of one petal to another.
Although I did not tighten the ballhead of my tripod in order to follow the moving bugs, I felt defeated by their speed and the weight of the lens, and slowed down by the manual focusing. Nevertheless, it was again a real pleasure to observe these bugs behind a macro lens. Once they reached the tip of a petal, they raised their forelegs as if in surprise or frustration, or to say “Help!” One bug peeked from under one petal as if it was a scared child lying face down on the glass floor of the Calgary Tower 627 feet above the ground.
The rest simply flew off or climbed down the plant only to climb up again upon reaching the ground and then finally flying off after getting nothing from my little garden.
Then it was time to give up and get myself some aphids for dinner. What’s that again? Oh! I had fish for dinner. I wish ladybugs were edible though. Yum! I did get another shot of one with open elytra. Not the best, but all right for now.
One day, I thought of using my 58mm close-up lens 500D and taking pictures of the ladybugs so that the children will have photos to enjoy during the long cold winter they will spend mostly indoors. As I take pictures during my break, however, the children shifted their interest to my camera. “Can I see, Miss Lina?” said all the tiny voices. “There’s nothing to see. Just put the ladybugs on the flowers, please,” I lied, of course. So they did, but I ended up with a lot of blurry shots because their hands were either on my shoulders or arms while trying to peek on the LCD screen.
It was time to give up.
During the weekend while preparing my little garden for spring bulbs, I spotted a ladybug on the ground. I picked it up and placed it on a cinquefoil and then ran into the house to get my 100 mm macro lens attached to an extension tube, and my tripod.
I thought that there might be time to set up as this bug wasn’t moving a lot. It was mid-afternoon so there was soft lighting and not a lot of wind. I thought it was perfect. When I got back to my “studio,” however, the bug was nowhere to be found. Oh, no! It was exploring the plant, so I just followed it with my lens. A fascinating sight behind a macro lens, however, was seeing the bug open its hard protective shell called elytra (or forewings), extend its black wings from underneath, and lift its elytra.
Uh-oh… My “model” was going to fly away and leave me. But for some reason, it did not. It simply lowered its elytra and withdrew its wings. Phew! I was able to take more shots this day but as my fingers were getting tired, I decided to use the self-timer. The noise, however, stressed the bug and it lifted its elytra several times to give me some final warnings. I thought the punishment on the bug was enough and I ended the session.
Today, while watering the plants, I noticed a lot of ladybugs on the lawn. It was like seeing tiny orange and red mushrooms that sprouted everywhere overnight. They were easy to spot as they settled at the tip of grass blades. I picked them gently with my big fingers. Whenever they fell on the ground, they quickly climbed back to the tip again (for my convenience, I thought). I picked five or more at a time and kept them in my closed fist while I ran to the backyard where there was no direct sunlight. Just like before, I shoved them on the few blooms in the garden and ran into the house for my macro lens and tripod. I thought that with so many bugs, I wouldn’t run out of models. I also set the objective of this session: to take a photo of a bug in flight or simply with open elytra. The big problem this time, however, was the strong wind which would surely blur the photos. I tried anyway and replaced my models several times after the others flew off. This session took longer than yesterday’s as the bugs stayed under the petals to look for their favourite food: aphids. Once they surfaced, however, they scurried from the tip of one petal to another.
Although I did not tighten the ballhead of my tripod in order to follow the moving bugs, I felt defeated by their speed and the weight of the lens, and slowed down by the manual focusing. Nevertheless, it was again a real pleasure to observe these bugs behind a macro lens. Once they reached the tip of a petal, they raised their forelegs as if in surprise or frustration, or to say “Help!” One bug peeked from under one petal as if it was a scared child lying face down on the glass floor of the Calgary Tower 627 feet above the ground.
The rest simply flew off or climbed down the plant only to climb up again upon reaching the ground and then finally flying off after getting nothing from my little garden.
Then it was time to give up and get myself some aphids for dinner. What’s that again? Oh! I had fish for dinner. I wish ladybugs were edible though. Yum! I did get another shot of one with open elytra. Not the best, but all right for now.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Just kiddin' kindergartners
Jay wasn’t eating his lunch. I asked, “Are you all right, Jay? Why aren’t you eating?” “I’m hurting,” Jay replied. “Your tummy is hurting? What’s hurting?” “My feelings.” “Did someone hurt your feelings?” “No, it just hurted.” Hmmm…
Al wasn't sitting properly, so he was the last to be called to wash his hands to prepare for lunch. I said, "I'll cover my eyes, and you can count to ten. When I open my eyes, you're seated properly." Al started counting: "one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…" He stopped. I suppressed my laughter while imagining his sweet smile. "Oh!" he exclaimed, realizing he got carried away. I opened my eyes and saw his usual sheepish smile. "Go wash your hands, Al. Good counting." (During free time, Al’s favourite act is to turn around and around while counting to a hundred.)
Lester was caught pulling the hair of Al who was busy coloring. Al had never been into any fight before, unlike Lester. Lester was asked to sit in a chair away from Al. Al was comforted and asked, "Why was Lester pulling your hair?" "I don't know." "Did you do anything to him? Why did he get mad?" "He got mad at me because I didn't do anything." Hmmm…
Al wasn't sitting properly, so he was the last to be called to wash his hands to prepare for lunch. I said, "I'll cover my eyes, and you can count to ten. When I open my eyes, you're seated properly." Al started counting: "one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…" He stopped. I suppressed my laughter while imagining his sweet smile. "Oh!" he exclaimed, realizing he got carried away. I opened my eyes and saw his usual sheepish smile. "Go wash your hands, Al. Good counting." (During free time, Al’s favourite act is to turn around and around while counting to a hundred.)
Lester was caught pulling the hair of Al who was busy coloring. Al had never been into any fight before, unlike Lester. Lester was asked to sit in a chair away from Al. Al was comforted and asked, "Why was Lester pulling your hair?" "I don't know." "Did you do anything to him? Why did he get mad?" "He got mad at me because I didn't do anything." Hmmm…
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Must be the kindest
Must be the kindest
Of all starry wildflowers
Host to all creatures.
Jamison/08/30/2011
On these plains
On these plains roamed my forefathers
Breathed on every gift from Heaven
Blazed the trails I now take
Leading me to hereafter.
Jamison/08/30/2011
By the window
By the window of the Prince of Wales Hotel stay
And wait for my apparition on Waterton Lake.
Take my hand and we’ll glide where there’s no divide
No Alberta or Montana, or papers for border guards.
Just you and me entwined, soaring on cloud nine
Knowing no boundaries, no such oddities!
Jamison/08/30/2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Just when I’m about to give up…
Just when I’m about to give up shooting butterflies, something new always comes along. So even after five years, thousands of shooting hours, and thousands of rejected butterfly photos taken in North America, my new discoveries prove that there’s so much more that I haven’t seen and so much more that I haven’t done. Why should I give up shooting butterflies? I’d like to do so until I’m 100. But here’s why I’m always close to giving up.
Experts say that I should use a tripod and a macro lens. The load, however, is too heavy and cumbersome for me, so I use my Canon Rebel T2i with a 55-250mm zoom lens and occasionally attach to it a 58mm close-up lens for smaller creatures like caterpillars.
I try not to be intimidated by photographers who come to Calgary Zoo’s Butterfly House with their tripods or monopods, twin lite flashes, and what I call paparazzi long lenses. Anyway, I’m just a hobbyist who hasn’t completed my gadgets nor gone to a photography school. Hence, I should feel good with my first shots of a Gulf Fritillary and a Postman Butterfly with their proboscises uncoiled and thrust down the flowers they landed on.
I can’t forget the moment I took these shots. I was ecstatic even if I knew that these shots could have been better with a tripod (or a monopod) and a macro lens. But why should I feel like giving up all the time?
Experts say that I should position my camera parallel to the butterfly’s wings so they come out sharp. After hundreds of shots of this kind, however, I feel like I had models who didn’t know any other way to pose for me. But just when I’m about to give up, I chance upon butterflies that are like balancing acrobats on a twig or leaf.
As macro photographers advise that I focus on the eyes, my wings do not turn out sharp; nevertheless, I thirst for more. Oh, I do focus on the eyes of butterflies that stare at me such as a Banded Orange Heliconian, but the result is not pretty. It’s eerie…
Experts say that I should use a fast shutter, a shallow depth of field or DOF, etc. In short, I should be shooting in manual mode. Now I really need help with this one because whenever I start changing settings, I lose my butterfly! I therefore set my camera to autofocus sports mode and take multiple shots of restless butterflies that go around flowers (perhaps trying to find the sweetest nectar) or jump from one bloom to another. Never mind what the experts say about switching to a point and shoot camera if I’m just using my single-lens reflex (SLR) camera in auto mode. I simply can’t lose a moment with my butterflies. Maybe next time with another subject, eh? At this point, let the experts scold me for what I’m doing.
Experts say that I should take lots of photos, but when I see the same 18 species on the same flowers or leaves, I’m ready to give up and leave the House. But always at this point, I spot new species such as a Malachite and a Tailed Jay, and new “acts” such as dancing and mating.
The dancing ritual is easy to see in the open, but most of the mating couples I see (except for the Zebra Longwing and the Pteronymia Notilla) stay discreet in the shade or behind the bushes and therefore pose more challenges for photographers as the garden is dense and off limits. I can imagine everyone’s jealousy as I balance myself on the narrow concrete border of the garden to reach as far as I can. Not wanting to be selfish though, I step aside and sort of show them the mating pairs that are hidden there.
Whenever I’m ready to give up, I also discover new locations or backgrounds such as the stone bench that surrounds the pond in the middle of the House. A Postman, for example, that lands like a plane on the bench and stares back at everyone is a new composition.
The pond with lilies itself is an interesting subject as coins from all over the world are scattered at the bottom and on lily pads. Visitors treat it like a wishing well, so a butterfly standing next to a coin on a lily pad poses different interpretations depending on the angle from which a shot is taken.
And as the children can’t help playing with the pond water, the bench is always wet and becomes a source of a cool drink for a thirsty Pteronymia Notilla.
Finaly, when my lens captures an extended finger or hand that desires to “feel” the beauty of a butterfly or to offer a flower to a Banded Orange Heliconian, it makes me want more.
The children further inspire me especially when they touch me in the arm and say, “Over there! Look!” in order to direct my attention to the butterflies they see nearby. Of course, their parents reprimand them (either for interrupting me or for talking to a stranger, or both), and the camera shake results in blurry shots, but I really don`t mind. I forgive the children for forgetting or breaking the rule because I think that forgetting is the result of our shared moments of joy with these lovely creatures.
Above all these, however, I think I ought not to give up shooting butterflies because they show me more than eating/drinking, dancing and mating; and complete magical metamorphosis. On several occasions, a pair of Banded Orange Heliconian butterflies presented intriguing behaviors I haven’t heard from butterfly experts. As I usually bend my knees to get to a butterfly’s level, one day I saw a Heliconian on a branch behind some plants. It was later joined by another and the pair started wrestling, as if one had to pin down the other. As I thought that their aggressiveness would lead to one’s demise, I asked myself if I should separate them. Before I could decide what to do, however, their abdomens met and they settled on a hanging mating position. Phew! Time and again though, another Heliconian hovered and tried to interrupt them but in vain.
Did this couple not know or want to do the courtship dance? On another occasion, while balancing myself on the narrow concrete border of the garden as I normally do, I spotted this melancholy Heliconian on a low branch in the middle of the garden, being “comforted” by another whose foreleg was even placed on the other’s right wing.
The usual courting ritual such as fluttering of wings to release the male scent was absent. The two simply shared a quiet moment before the male left. As I was off balance, these shots are blurry and may end up in my trash bin. Nevertheless, the memory of this drama will stay with me like an unsolved puzzle. Was there courtship or simply friendship? Finally, another Heliconian on a palm leaf was joined by another who gently flapped his wings now and then.
Surely there was courtship this time, but the two stayed this way for a long time (while everyone took pictures and waited for the result), and nothing happened. There was no mating, that is. What was the reason for the rejection when they were both of the same species? Had the female just mated? Did they just have a friendly chat? Just when I’m about to give up, there’s always something to think about and keep going.
Ah, butterflies! Ever beautiful, graceful, intelligent and mysterious… I’ll catch you through my lens until I’m a hundred.
Jamison/08/26/2011
Experts say that I should use a tripod and a macro lens. The load, however, is too heavy and cumbersome for me, so I use my Canon Rebel T2i with a 55-250mm zoom lens and occasionally attach to it a 58mm close-up lens for smaller creatures like caterpillars.
I try not to be intimidated by photographers who come to Calgary Zoo’s Butterfly House with their tripods or monopods, twin lite flashes, and what I call paparazzi long lenses. Anyway, I’m just a hobbyist who hasn’t completed my gadgets nor gone to a photography school. Hence, I should feel good with my first shots of a Gulf Fritillary and a Postman Butterfly with their proboscises uncoiled and thrust down the flowers they landed on.
I can’t forget the moment I took these shots. I was ecstatic even if I knew that these shots could have been better with a tripod (or a monopod) and a macro lens. But why should I feel like giving up all the time?
Experts say that I should position my camera parallel to the butterfly’s wings so they come out sharp. After hundreds of shots of this kind, however, I feel like I had models who didn’t know any other way to pose for me. But just when I’m about to give up, I chance upon butterflies that are like balancing acrobats on a twig or leaf.
As macro photographers advise that I focus on the eyes, my wings do not turn out sharp; nevertheless, I thirst for more. Oh, I do focus on the eyes of butterflies that stare at me such as a Banded Orange Heliconian, but the result is not pretty. It’s eerie…
Experts say that I should use a fast shutter, a shallow depth of field or DOF, etc. In short, I should be shooting in manual mode. Now I really need help with this one because whenever I start changing settings, I lose my butterfly! I therefore set my camera to autofocus sports mode and take multiple shots of restless butterflies that go around flowers (perhaps trying to find the sweetest nectar) or jump from one bloom to another. Never mind what the experts say about switching to a point and shoot camera if I’m just using my single-lens reflex (SLR) camera in auto mode. I simply can’t lose a moment with my butterflies. Maybe next time with another subject, eh? At this point, let the experts scold me for what I’m doing.
Experts say that I should take lots of photos, but when I see the same 18 species on the same flowers or leaves, I’m ready to give up and leave the House. But always at this point, I spot new species such as a Malachite and a Tailed Jay, and new “acts” such as dancing and mating.
The dancing ritual is easy to see in the open, but most of the mating couples I see (except for the Zebra Longwing and the Pteronymia Notilla) stay discreet in the shade or behind the bushes and therefore pose more challenges for photographers as the garden is dense and off limits. I can imagine everyone’s jealousy as I balance myself on the narrow concrete border of the garden to reach as far as I can. Not wanting to be selfish though, I step aside and sort of show them the mating pairs that are hidden there.
Whenever I’m ready to give up, I also discover new locations or backgrounds such as the stone bench that surrounds the pond in the middle of the House. A Postman, for example, that lands like a plane on the bench and stares back at everyone is a new composition.
The pond with lilies itself is an interesting subject as coins from all over the world are scattered at the bottom and on lily pads. Visitors treat it like a wishing well, so a butterfly standing next to a coin on a lily pad poses different interpretations depending on the angle from which a shot is taken.
And as the children can’t help playing with the pond water, the bench is always wet and becomes a source of a cool drink for a thirsty Pteronymia Notilla.
Finaly, when my lens captures an extended finger or hand that desires to “feel” the beauty of a butterfly or to offer a flower to a Banded Orange Heliconian, it makes me want more.
The children further inspire me especially when they touch me in the arm and say, “Over there! Look!” in order to direct my attention to the butterflies they see nearby. Of course, their parents reprimand them (either for interrupting me or for talking to a stranger, or both), and the camera shake results in blurry shots, but I really don`t mind. I forgive the children for forgetting or breaking the rule because I think that forgetting is the result of our shared moments of joy with these lovely creatures.
Above all these, however, I think I ought not to give up shooting butterflies because they show me more than eating/drinking, dancing and mating; and complete magical metamorphosis. On several occasions, a pair of Banded Orange Heliconian butterflies presented intriguing behaviors I haven’t heard from butterfly experts. As I usually bend my knees to get to a butterfly’s level, one day I saw a Heliconian on a branch behind some plants. It was later joined by another and the pair started wrestling, as if one had to pin down the other. As I thought that their aggressiveness would lead to one’s demise, I asked myself if I should separate them. Before I could decide what to do, however, their abdomens met and they settled on a hanging mating position. Phew! Time and again though, another Heliconian hovered and tried to interrupt them but in vain.
Did this couple not know or want to do the courtship dance? On another occasion, while balancing myself on the narrow concrete border of the garden as I normally do, I spotted this melancholy Heliconian on a low branch in the middle of the garden, being “comforted” by another whose foreleg was even placed on the other’s right wing.
The usual courting ritual such as fluttering of wings to release the male scent was absent. The two simply shared a quiet moment before the male left. As I was off balance, these shots are blurry and may end up in my trash bin. Nevertheless, the memory of this drama will stay with me like an unsolved puzzle. Was there courtship or simply friendship? Finally, another Heliconian on a palm leaf was joined by another who gently flapped his wings now and then.
Surely there was courtship this time, but the two stayed this way for a long time (while everyone took pictures and waited for the result), and nothing happened. There was no mating, that is. What was the reason for the rejection when they were both of the same species? Had the female just mated? Did they just have a friendly chat? Just when I’m about to give up, there’s always something to think about and keep going.
Ah, butterflies! Ever beautiful, graceful, intelligent and mysterious… I’ll catch you through my lens until I’m a hundred.
Jamison/08/26/2011
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