Category: photography

Marigold’s New Silent Voice

I got a smart phone, like a normal well-adjusted modern adult.  Which, because of the magnets in my fingertips and the inherent evil that my hands automatically spew upon the electrified world,  did take some hassle to unravel at the neighborhood radio- shack- type store.  It’s like the more advanced in technology something is, the more of an effect I have upon the ease of ushering it into my daily stream.  Ask the lady at the electronics store today when she was trying to activate my phone.  No no no there is no way I could activate it myself, I am not that advanced in wired communication.  Seriously the strangest combinations of problems arose for such a simple routine. Yet, after determination, positive attitude, and closed fists, I am an owner of a smart and small device that you can also use to call people.

Because of this handy new tool, Marigold is experiencing a new way to express herself, in a quieter way.

Instagram @MarigoldShutters


I’m a Rebel! Again.


Are you as excited as I am to see the portraits from this guys eye?  Are you excited to see the pictures he captures with his sleek shutterbugs style?  My new guy is modern, he is certified to communicate with the oracle. I am very thrilled with my new aperture to the world, a new mirror to reflect my reality, a fresh focus on my daily routine.

Stayed tuned for the name, Marigold is sure to have a full christening explanation.

Alone in the middle of the city


I love to be alone.  Not always, not everyday, but sometimes I want to be utterly alone.  I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to see anybody. I want to feel separated from humanity, to be included in nothing except my own thoughts, feelings, impressions, and inspirations.  It has nothing to do with depression, anger, or disappointment.  Its not about love lost, betrayal, or bitterness.  It is that I simply like to be with only myself.


Its hard to be alone, to find solitude and peace in the active city.  More so with roommates whom are often home because you live in a cold, expensive city.  Fortunately for my lonely tastes, my backyard dead ends directly with the graveyard.  There is a tall concrete wall separating the world of the living with the damnation of the deceased.  Walk around the block, and on the other side is an entrance into a silent, distant world.  A life that is not visited by many living souls, a quite village, a silent dance party.  I can stroll a brief 10 minutes around the block and enter a world where I can find complete solitude in the middle of an early almost- warm spring day.  Trapped within the tall and cool concrete walls, even the sounds of the passing cars and stopping busses are muted.  So quickly and easily the city life is reduced to simply myself.  Within these silent walls I walk through all that remains of so many lives, the repayments of a history of people are boiled down to two dates, a slab of marble, and if you are lucky a short quote or if you are really lucky a giant, out dated statue.




The cemetery during the day does not provoke feeling of creepiness, danger, or uncertainty.  Exposed under watchful glare of father sun, the cemetery inspires serenity, introspection, and reflection.  The weight of the stones change the magnitude of oneself, challenges your notion of your place on history’s timeline.  Its impossible not to see your existence as just a snapshot in time.



Wandering alone, slightly cold, with my scarf wrapped all the way down my wrists, curling around my red fingers, I seek out the patches of sunshine, avoid the patches of shadow created by the old tall trees and the cold tall marble statues.  I find a small flowering tree.  Its branches reach down toward the ground and are speckled with tiny white flowers.  The tree is peaceful, serene, perfect in the graveyard.  So still and so beautiful.  Instantly, I want this to be a place for a ceremony of marriage.  I know that sounds creepy, but I just explained how its so perfect.  IMG_9902IMG_9908IMG_9914