Why I love Instagram

I've enjoyed social networking platforms. I'm on Facebook, but seldom post. I have a Twitter account and I've been known to tweet, but I am more likely to re-tweet. I am on Google + but I don't have the hang of it. I obviously blog and I enjoy it a lot, but it takes quite a bit of time. Besides blogging, nothing else has really captured my imagination until Instagram.

It is as if I've been struck by lightning.

I am going to be a shameless advocate here, so please forgive me.

I am one of those people who lives inside my head a lot. I love solitary things--like walking, hiking, reading, writing, (napping), and driving. This rather strong need for solitude can be hard to explain. I love to do those things because it is then that I feel in tune with my surroundings. I notice things and I find many of the things I see moving, rejuvenating and inspiring. Then I want to share those discoveries with people I love.

My very first memory is of the side steps on our house. There were several brick steps and on every other one was a large rectangular (at least 4 feet long) planter of red geraniums. They led to lovely french doors that we didn't use and that were purely decorative.  I would lay down on the step next to the planter and hide. From this position I could look up at the flowers and see them framed against the blue sky and be alone. To this day I love the sharp sent of geraniums and the sky through green leaves.

Instagram captures moments like these for me and then allows me to share them.

Instagram also makes me think of Impressionists. I looked up the definition of Impressionists online and here is what I found (I highlighted what I am talking about in blue):


"impressionism [ɪmˈprɛʃəˌnɪzəm] n 

1. (Fine Arts & Visual Arts / Art Movements) (often capital) a movement in French painting, developed in the 1870s chiefly by Monet, Renoir, Pissarro, and Sisley, having the aim of objectively recording experience by a system of fleeting impressions, esp of natural light effects

2. (Fine Arts & Visual Arts / Art Terms) the technique in art, literature, or music of conveying experience by capturing fleeting impressions of reality or of mood

Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged © HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003" 

The beauty of a face just waiting for a subway

I look at Instagram as the whole world recording fleeting moments. Stopping time for just a second and recording what they found interesting, moving, compelling, funny or sometimes just snapping a picture because they were bored.

I find so much beauty in the world. It is what makes life worthwhile to me. The small snatches of beauty that pack every single day. The times that transcend driving carpool or washing dishes. The living in-between.

Instagram also helps me feel connected to other people. I love seeing what my niece has her daughters wear to church. I want to see what family members are eating, where they are going and what they find beautiful.

Another one of my favorite things about Instagram is finding people in other cultures who love the things I do. Who love architecture, landscape, faces and flowers.

The very moment the sun makes something utilitarian beautiful.

I feel connected in ways I didn't think possible. I also feel like the whole world is being documented second by second and then it's gone and the new second is upon us. It's a futile and beautiful documentation of the ephemeral.

The perfect watermelon.

For example, one day I took a picture of the sun and then posted it with hashtag (#) sun. I then looked up on Instagram all the pictures with the #sun. My picture was already buried under 50 or more pictures of the sun--from all over the world.   That's it--it's filed in some digital obscurity.

Of course on Instagram you have followers and people you follow. There is also the possibility of going on Instacanvas to sell your pictures. It's satisfying to connect with people and have them get what you are trying to do--but it isn't why I do it. I do it to just have the ability to capture and share a moment I found inspiring.

The apex of a college career.

Favorite hamburger ever (Toast NYC).

Something grand, like the flowers at the Metropolitan Museum in NYC. 

Something unpredictable like petal-less black-eyed susans marching along the trail. 

The weirdness of the mundane in a mass planting of marigolds in my yard.

The grandeur of my favorite mountain, Mount Olympus, in April.

The simple perfection of a Hollyhock as it blooms.

Everneath Book Launch! Go Brodi!

Brodi Ashton's book launch was January 24th. I am sorry that I am a week late with my pictures, but I have an excuse--we moved! Again! Yea! Most people move around the country or the world, we move within a 4 mile area. Anyway, another tale for another day, because this blog is all about my sister-in-law, The Amazing Brodi (sounds like she's a magician--well she is--with words!). It was actually one of the most exciting evenings I've ever had. I wish that said more, because I am a little boring, but I know it would have been exciting even for Evel Knievel.

The King's English in Salt Lake City hosted the launch at it's neighbor the 15th Street Gallery.  It was packed and quickly became standing room only. Brodi gave a wonderful and very funny presentation about the publishing process. She wrote about the launch on her blog here and here. She then moved over to The King's English and signed and signed and signed.

I've watched Brodi through this whole process and she's amazed me with her dedication, tenacity and writing ability. She is going to have an amazing career and she's earned it!

Waiting in the wings.

The King's English supplied the cake.

Brodi's family on both sides provided the food.
We love to bring food to any occasion.

The Book

The Crowd!

Yep, I waited in line to get a signature!
Yep, I look like and am a crazed stalker!
You go Brodi!

Hearing Voices

I've been thinking about voices. I am the type of reader that once I find an author I enjoy I will read everything they've written just because I love the voice of the writer (without regard to quality). I am  like that with blog authors as well. The voice of some bloggers just resonate and I miss that when they don't post.

I've been nostalgic lately which is not really in my basic personality. I don't have many regrets and am always ready for the next thing in my life, but lately I've been looking back.

I went to the wedding of the daughter of a great friend. I used be a neighbor too and many of the wedding guests were dear friends. I saw parents of another great friend whom I had known since 7th grade. I went over to talk to them--the dad had been my Bishop as well as my Stake President and the mom had always been a lovely person in my life and I suddenly got really and embarrassingly teary! When I saw them I realized I just plain missed them.  I thought of how much they and their daughter had been a big part of my formative years and I felt lucky, but also sad that their voices were heard so little in my life.

In our house their are many sounds. My husband learning a new guitar song, my daughter playing hymns, my youngest daughter and son playing and fighting together. I love to hear my children practice their instruments, no matter how bad or good they sound. My daughter who is a flutist would practice for hours and I loved her warm-up scales and TOFU as much as concertos. (I am still not sure why we called it TOFU.)  There is a real beauty to learning music.

I also love the voices of my children; one of my most driven and focused daughters has a laugh filled voice, while another's voice is musical and gentle, one is a person of few words--but each word is either hilarious or insightful and often both. I have one daughter who often speaks in a monotone, but she has the most original thoughts of anyone I've ever known. My son's voice is energetic, negotiating and love filled. Anyway, I love their voices and when they are out of the house there is a real void.

This is the first summer I've spent without my twin daughters. One decided to serve a mission and is in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma and the other decided that she would like stay and work in NYC where she spends the rest of the year. (By the way, doesn't New York get enough of her--NY is very selfish!) When they are around they are non stop talkers so their voices are sorely missed.

The traveling twins.

Then their are other voices I miss. Those of people that have passed on. Every extended family gathering I really miss my grandmother and she's been gone for 22 years. She had a strong, true voice. I never met my husband's father, but I miss him too.

I've moved around a bit and had the opportunity to meet some really lovely people and some stay in my life and some just naturally drift away. Each one with their distinct personalities. Some friends were toxic and it was better to just let time and space create distance, but I miss them too.