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lee_s.1

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Image Comments posted by lee_s.1

    More information about "Aussie"

    Aussie

    in Landscape

          5

    Posted

    True? I'm not sure what you mean... if you are asking if this is really there, then yes it is... All I did to this image was brightness/contrast, hue/sat, and sharpening. If you would really like, I could show you an example of the original. Thank you again. All ratings are appreciated! ;)
    More information about "Flower Macro"

    Flower Macro

    in Macro

          5

    Posted

    The lighting was with a desklamp behing the flower from camera right and then lit equally from a kitchen light above. Nothing fancy, just an attempt at telling a story. Thanks again.
    More information about "Flower Macro"

    Flower Macro

    in Macro

          5

    Posted

    Sometimes, you need to read into the photo to truly understand its

    meaning.

     

    Last Wednesday, the day before I left for Vermont, my mother went in

    for some surgery that had been planned for a couple of months. I saw

    her on Wednesday night and she had been doing fine, despite her fear

    of surgery and hospitalization. Even though she looked good, she still

    was not her usual motherly self. You could obviously tell that the

    long surgery had taken a toll and that she was quite tired and weak.

    It was hard seeing someone close who is normally so active and strong

    be this way. I personally have had very bad experiences in this way

    with hospitals which is why they are one of my least favorite places

    in the world...

    Back in the summer between first and second grade, on the last day of

    my camp that I had been going to, my mom and I were getting me ready

    and packed to catch the bus that would take me there. Just as we were

    about to leave the door, my mom got a call and she became very quiet

    and kind of just stood there. I can still see the blood draining from

    her face as I stood there, a bag in one hand and a baseball mitt in

    the other, waiting anxiously for her to come and bring me down to the

    bottom of our driveway. About a minute went by, with someone obviously

    explaining something to her on the telephone and then she finally said

    two broken words, "Thanks, bye." My mom then proceded to give me a

    long look that I would have previously thought as one of scold, had I

    not seen the look of fear in her glazed eyes. Something was definitely

    up and I noticed it. She then told me to drop my stuff as I was not

    going to be going to camp that day. Bewildered, I did as she told me

    and then before doing anything, she took the checks that were my

    counselor's tips for the summer and went down to the driveway to have

    the bus driver relay it to them. I stood in the house not exactly sure

    what was going on, but I knew that whatever it was, it was not

    something good.

     

    When my mom returned she merely told me to put on my jacket and get in

    the car. I got in the car after she unlocked it and then she joined me

    in the car in the garage. I braced myself for the glorious sound of

    the engine revving up that I always loved to hear as it marked the

    beginning of a car ride to someplace familiar or new; someplace else

    in the world. We were both completely still for a moment and I

    wondered why she wasn't turning on the engine. I realized then that

    not everywhere where we would go would necessarily be a good place to

    be. The silence that lasted in the car in the garage seemed eternal.

    It was the kind of silence you expect from being in a closed car. It's

    the kind of silence that you can hear. It is so deafening that you

    need to scruff up a piece of paper or shuffle in your seat so that you

    can double-check that you aren't going deaf. It was the silence that

    signifies something not being right. The silence was like a black box.

     

    Suddenly, the engine revved up and I felt a rush of adrenaline flow

    through my body. I figured that wherever we were going, we were not in

    a mad rush to be there, which seemed to comfort me in a way. Out of

    curiousity I asked my mother where we were going. She replied quietly

    and simply, "Somewhere," and I could just barely make it out over the

    engine echoing in the sanctuary of the garage. She pulled out and I

    found myself on a journey out into the world. Being only seven at the

    time, I was not so worried about why my mom was acting so weird and I

    wasn't that conscious of what might have been going on. Every trip in

    the car was a journey for me and I let my mind wander...

    I had a great imagination as a child. My young friends and I, ever

    since we were very little, found ourselves always playing in complex

    and make-believe worlds that were our own Utopias of sort. We ruled

    the lands and went to war and found ourselves trading and writing

    constitutions amongst other things. You may call me a preserver as I

    never throw things away and I still have a very good portion of our

    imaginatory ideas and ventures saved. It is by looking back on these

    things that sparks memories.

     

    The car came to an abrupt, but soft stop as I peered around from

    behind the passenger seat to see the red light we had come upon. I

    knew that we hadn't been in the car very long as I only had counted

    eighteen road signs on our way. When I looked out my window, I

    realized where we were and became nervous. I recognized the name of

    the hospital nearest my house and the thought once again breached my

    thoughts that maybe this journey would not be one to the pool, or to

    the pizzeria. I began to hope that we would keep on going straight,

    towards the next town instead of taking a right up the road to the

    hospital. I asked my mom where we were going again. She did not

    respond to me and I became worried. Then, inevitably as the light

    turned green, we turned down the road to the hospital.

    I can remember the windy road down to the hospital on the paradisal

    sunny summer morning. The trees were overflowing with their leaves of

    shelter and the Earth was as green as our beach towels that we had

    used the weekend prior. The woods were inviting, yet another possible

    platform of exploration. The scene was serene and subtle as the sun

    could gently serenate the landscape with its dappling rays from which

    all life once came. Irony is ever present at a hospital; a place where

    life is born and life is lost...

    All of this distraction did not deter the thought of going to the

    hospital. I had absolutely no idea what was happening. As we began

    approaching the Emergency Room, my mom began to go into histerics and

    I was for the first time that day scared. No kid wants to see their

    mommy cry right in front of there eyes, it never could be a good

    thing. Once she got around to parking and brought herself together, we

    walked into the ER, she still ignoring me.

    She told me to sit by the window as she went and talked with the

    pretty lady at the desk. I went to sit in the chair and started

    watching cartoons on the little T.V. that they had in the corner of

    the room. At that age, it was really hard to find myself concentrating

    on one thing at a time. From behind, I heard some ambulence sirens and

    I whipped around to see one zooming in and coming to a screeching halt

    right outside of the window I was sitting next to. I saw as the

    workers jumped out of the ambulence and rushed to the back to get the

    person out from the vehicle. They took a bundled figure out on a

    stretcher and quickly reeled them into the E.R. through a special

    passage with a big window. I strained to see what was wrong with the

    person out of curiousity, but I only saw an arm, whose pulse was being

    taken. What a rush!

     

    When the excitement of that passed, I looked to my mom who seemed to

    be getting upset with the person at the desk. I didn't understand why

    she was angry with the pretty lady. I started hearing sirens once

    again coming from far away. I turned around and brought my nose to the

    cool window, smushing it up against the glass. Once again, I saw the

    uniformed workers jump out of the ambulance and to the back. They

    reeled out yet another person and started into the passage way. I

    quickly switched seats to the big glass window that separated the

    passageway from the E.R. room that I was sitting in. When the

    stretcher was reeled in, I strained my neck in order to get a look at

    what had happened. What I saw then mortified me.

     

    It was my father. Bloody, unconscious, and wrethched looking. My heart

    and stomach seemed to drop to the floor as I saw him being reeled by.

    It was suprising that I could even recognize him, for he was so badly

    hurt that his facial features were barely recognizable. He seemed to

    go in slow motion and once he passed, I turned to see my mom. She was

    standing right next to me, stern and silent, and we hugged then and

    there and I never wanted to leave her arms ever again...

     

    * * *

     

    It turned out that my father had been in a bad biking accident. He was

    always an avid cyclist and rarely got hurt. We later found out that he

    had fallen down steep slope after losing his grip on the road.

    Luckily, a woman who lived in the house by his fall saw him lying

    unconscious in the middle of the street. She was the woman who called

    my mom to notify her of what had happened, and the woman who

    indirectly saved my father's life.

    As for my dad, he suffered multiple injuries. He broke his collar bone

    in three places and nearly all of his ribs had been fractured. He had

    deep cuts and wounds on his knees and elbows which left him scarred to

    this day. Much of this left him inactive for a time, but he was a very

    healthy person and recovered within the timeframe of a year. I have to

    owe my thanks to Robert (zap) at whose house I spent the rest of the

    day and it helped keep my mind off of my dad in the hospital.

     

    Later on a few years later, in seventh grade, we found out that my

    father had an impending aneurysm in his aortic valve, so surgery was

    imminent. So my father had open heart surgery in January of that year

    and I visited him often (after he came out of the Intensice Care Unit

    however) and even then, after my first traumatizing experience a few

    years earlier, I was very uncomfortable being in hospitals. My dad is

    one of the most healthiest people I have ever known and in being so,

    he greatly improved his chance of survival of the heart surgery. Even

    though at the time I knew he was healthy, it was still hard to see

    him, immobile and helpless with a tube in his mouth.

     

    This brings me to the point that hospitals are not one of my favorite

    places in the world. I have really only seen the downside of them and

    not the opposite. When my mom was staying in the hospital last week,

    she shared a room with a new mother just out of labor and that

    reminded me somewhat that hospitals were no

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