i am also quoteless. this seems unusual, but there it is.

rather than forcing myself to find words, i am giving myself permission and spaciousness.

i wish you blue skies and (seemingly endless) peaceful moments.

{a photo project honoring radiance, one of my words for 2012 :: 52 photos that represent radiance, 52 photos that represent luminosity.}

sometimes, only the tiniest trick of the light can separate radiance and luminosity.

(i have to tell you the story behind these pictures. the pup and i were ending our walk this morning when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. i remembered seeing a splash of oil on the asphalt – something i always find beautiful even as i wish it away – and ran inside to get my camera. we walked around the parking lot of the apartment complex looking for it. along the way, i stopped to take a photo of a puddle. atlas decided he was thirsty and got in the way of my planned picture. however, as he lifted his head up, water dropped from his jowls and into the puddle. the waves the droplets made as they landed were so pretty that i asked him to take another drink so i could take more pictures.)

(i keep wanting to use this quote but then i stop myself because it feels like i am patting myself on the back. except i really like the quote, and that is not my intent at all, so i am using it regardless of my hesitation.)

"Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing."

– Camille Pissarro

i was not actually trying to take a picture of atlas. i was trying to take a picture of the stream of water, but atlas kept sticking his tongue in my picture. silly pup.

{a photo project honoring radiance, one of my words for 2012 :: 52 photos that represent radiance, 52 photos that represent luminosity.}

people!

i have to tell you a secret because i am so very excited about it.

the plan, for a while now, has been that retinal perspectives will have a lovely new web home this year, likely toward the end of april.

and!

the thing i know now – which i discovered over the weekend, thankfully just in time to tell the designer before she started work – is that my business and web site will no longer use the name retinal perspectives.

it turns out that i am going to use my own name.

i am going to be ..

insert drumroll please ..

elizabeth halt :: the girl with the kaleidoscope eyes.

i am so in love with my new idea that i could just burst.

(that being said, i am still very fond of the name retinal perspectives, so it might remain in some form or fashion, at least for a while.)

i find myself blinking back tears rather often these days, though they are a different sort of tear than the usual.

you see, the thing i realized very recently is that i actually see myself with eyes of love and compassion now.

do you know that i will turn 35 in april, and that i cannot ever remember a time when i did not think i was a terrible, horrible, awful, no-good person? that's three decades, give or take, of self-loathing and perceived worthlessness.

i'm crying because it feels like i am coming home to myself, after a very long time away.

i'm also crying for all the versions of me who were not met with this same love and compassion. i want to wrap my arms around each one of them in turn and say, "oh, sweetie. i see you. i love you. and i am so so so sorry."

if you want to laugh regularly, it is good to have a dog.

atlas and i were out for a walk one day. i was off in my own world, taking pictures, when i thought i heard munching.

i was right. atlas was foraging for berries. i finally tasted one – crossing my fingers that they weren't poisonous – because he would not stop eating them. they tasted like a very mealy old apple.

i still have no idea what they are, but atlas approves.

"To put your hands in a river is to feel the chords that bind the earth together."

– Barry Lopez

i am sorry to say that the main reason i noticed the moon was because atlas was glued to the sidewalk for over half an hour, watching a cat in a tree. my attention span – for cats – is not nearly as long as his. atlas would have kept watching forever but, at the half hour mark, i decided it was time to head home.

did you watch the superbowl? or wait, is it even over? did i miss any fantastic ads?

right now, i feel like life is full of possibility. someday, i might have to tell you about how i discovered a very unhelpful unconscious belief and about the subsequent dissolving of that belief which is what brought me to this place. for now, i am just reveling in all the energy i have to work on my business. (given the belief, it is actually a miracle that i have managed to accomplish anything at all. i am somewhat astonished at what i managed to do in spite of it.) it feels like i have a million ideas and i finally have the motivation and inspiration to work on them. yay for that.

{a photo project honoring radiance, one of my words for 2012 :: 52 photos that represent radiance, 52 photos that represent luminosity.}

it is easy to believe in the possibility of radiance when the sun is shining. we are in a five day stretch of sun – with more promised – and, with the exception of one hard day, i feel like i am sparkling.

i know i could live somewhere sunnier, but i feel like regular winter sun would make the sunshine seem more ordinary and less celebratory. i like that the presence of the sun makes me want to drop everything in order to bask in it.