I’ve spent the past few days holed up in my former home sweet mountain bubble (Nelson BC, that is). Here are a few self-portraits of the end of a beeeyoootiful end of winter beach day.
As of yesterday I’ve been alive for a quarter of a century. If I lived in certain states in India it would now be legal for me to consume hard liquor and if I lived in Colonial America I would pretty much be dead. Since I live in a land where life expectancy is high and legal drinking age has long since passed me by I decided to commemorate the day by taking my portrait. Just a quick & serious straight on one shot instead of the usual self-timer funny business. Just a little note for the future saying, “Hey Half Century Jodie, have you met Quarter Century Jodie? She looks something like this.”
Someone told me the other day that cabin living is making me far too healthy. After browsing through my recent accumulation of self-portraits I think they might be right, but I’ll let you decide after looking at them yourself.
So, when I’m not running around near Rosebery like a headless chicken with a camera it’s quite likely you’ll find me doing one of the following:
My classtacular apron and I have been on an awfully domestic streak. Once you get past me trying to feed you a wooden spoonful of fresh baked granola you’ll notice the breadmaker on the counter which is busy making me a loaf of starchy goodness.
Mowing the lawn is quite possibly my least favorite household activity of all time. This may stem from one particularly ill-fated summer a few years back when a manfriend and I attempted to have a lawn maintenance company only to discover the ol’ physical labour and I aren’t so compatible. In any case, I stand firm that lawns are silly and salute anyone who has turned their yard into a haven free of such a thing.
But, I accidentally said I wouldn’t mind doing it and because I discovered the novelty of a manual reel mower I thought perhaps I’d give my relationship with lawn mowing another try. I’ll admit it was actually pretty fun at first … until my puny arms started aching, my palms started bruising, my fingers started blistering, and I learned that although environmentally friendly, the manual reel mower takes approximately half a lifetime longer than the lean, mean, motor powered machine I also despise.
On the other hand, having afternoon sun naps is quite possibly one of my favorite household activities of all time. The cabino just so happens to have a glorious daybed perfect for doing so. I know I’m not napping in the second photo, but I had to take it after I realized I was reading a hunting magazine … mostly because I saw an article entitled Timberdoodle Treasure Troves and the alliteration made me curious about the creature.
Front Porch LoungingThe front porch bench is the stuff lazy little moments of lounging are made of. It’s my favorite place to practice the art of lacktivism and has also assumed the role of my dining room table.
The lake is a tease. Without fail, anytime I’m inside the lake will throw a new visual surprise through the window that sends me frantically diving for my camera and tearing out of the house faster than I can put my shoes and pants on. You may notice I am wearing shoes and pants in the following photos, but that’s because in both of these instances I was on my way home from a morning photo walk when the lake said “Come admire me!” like an attention-starved woman.
“Why bathe indoors when you can bathe outdoors?“, is what I always say. Actually, that’s a lie, I’ve never said that. But I do like to do it whenever I have the chance, and I’ve had lots of chances lately.
I’m a pretty committed morning bed dweller.
I like hitting my James Brown Sex Machine snooze button, dozing in & out of dreams, reading, writing, and just generally hanging out horizontally as long as possible. Given this fact I’m a little shocked that for the past week or so I’ve taken it upon myself to check out the light on the other side of the tunnel. That is, I’ve been getting up at the buttcrack of dawn to chase the sunrise with my camera.
The photos below were taken this morning near the cabino I’m staying at in Rosebery, BC between 4:30 and 6:30am. Yes, you read that right … am. I can’t believe it either and now that I’ve made my dawn-treading confession I’m off for some serious snap action (short nap, that is).
A friend of mine mentioned he thought this self-portrait looked like an ad for a rustic microbrewery, a pair of hiking shoes, or MEC. I don’t know how this rugged outdoorsy-ness managed to sneak its way into the photo, because although I probably did have a beer in my jacket pocket, the truth is I don’t even own a pair of hiking shoes and I would hardly know what to do with most of the goods in MEC. But despite the pseudo-sportiness, I think it accurately reflects how the mountains are slowly seeping into my life and how I’m starting to understand why folks are so crazy about the Kootenays.
This self-portrait expresses how I feel about having two roommates move out in rapid succession and leave me temporarily with an extra sleeping chamber and bed 4,000 times nicer than my own.
I wish I could say I’m beyond the weather affecting my mood and that during the mean depths of winter I have the ability to channel the invincible summer within. But it’s just not the case, and lately I’ve been flying high & barefoot on a wicked verge-of-summer buzz:
Bare Skin meet Harsh Afternoon Sunlight.
Harsh Afternoon Sunlight meet Bare Skin.
This self-portrait sums up nicely how I’ve been feeling chasing golden sunsets & mountain light around Nelson. And also reminds me how much I sometimes like lens flare.
You're perusing the phlog of Canadian soul-stealer & light-painter Jodie Ponto. Her website lives here: www.jodieponto.com.
