33 Sunrises x Day 4 | Waking up at the Pennybacker Bridge

I sat on a cliff overlooking the 360 Penny Backer Bridge and hoped to watch the sun rise. Between impending rain and heavy clouds and my facing the west, it didn’t make for much of a colorful sky as much as a great view of the lake. As the sun rose behind my back deep on the other side of the woods, I watched first a motorboat, then jet skis, then a paddle board all float along, far down below. And long after they left my sight the waves of their commotion carried on, lapping on each side of the shore that despite their never touching, felt the gravity of their presence. So it is.

Those waves. My god those waves of what we do or what others do sending repercussions into the world. I always say we are energy and what we do and who we are and what we say affects so much and a dear friend commented “That sounds so new age to me” but it’s not at all, really. It’s practical science. If we emulate what is in nature, and if our bodies are composed of the elements of a replica of the world around us, and if, as they say in Judaism, if we destroy one human being it is as destroying an entire universe, then… … … …

Have you ever stood in the wake of a storm, just to feel the wind blow? 

We are seeking energy, whether we call it that or not, it is forward motion. We want to feel something. We climb to the tallest we can to look out on a tiny world below in hopes of feeling small. We grab a bottle of rum, to feel nothing. And nothing my darling, is absolutely something. That is the problem.

I photograph sunrises, I wake up every morning before the sun to remember what being alive feels like. It’s too easy to numb ourselves when we carry the weight of our lives. That’s what caffeine and medicine and prescription drugs and “likes” and “follows” and nightly news and celebrities are for. But what if…

What if instead of adding to these we somehow took them away? What if instead of sitting more hours in front of the television we turned it off? What would we do to fill that time? What would nourish who we are at our core instead of distracting us? What would water the seeds of our dreams instead of desensitize and kill them? Dare we dream again?

The sun rose without my knowing it that morning. But it still rose.
Time marches on whether or not we sew our seeds. I think that is the most daunting of all things to realize. There is only this. There is only now.
And so tomorrow I will watch the sun rise one more time…

33 Sunrises x Day 3 | Waking Up at Jo's on SoCo

Good morning, Darling.
First and foremost, please push play. 

"Tell me again how night ends?" asked Little Owl.
"Moon flowers close
And morning glories open" replied Mama Owl.
"Dew drops sparkle and
Spider webs like tiny threads hang down.
The rooster crows.
The crows caw,
And the day begins."
But little owl did not hear,
              for he was fast asleep.  

[An excerpt from Little Owl's Night, one of Emiliana's favorite books, written by a local author gifted to us by Diana Uribe and one we gift frequently.] 

Waking Up at Jo's on SoCo
So this is how it goes. I brush my teeth, eyes still closed. I throw my baseball cap on over my hair. I stumble/race out the door, throwing my closed bag over my shoulder as I barely arrive at SoCo as the sun begins to rise. The cotton candy clouds forming on the horizon make me grateful I'm here, but I'm still barely awake to think straight. I back-in parking (maybe twice because I'm in such a hurry/still asleep), open my camera bag and...
                                                                  my camera's not there. 

This is so typical me. Trying to do anything for 33 days in a row- as the Hebrews would say - hineini, or rather, hineh ani. Here I am. I showed up, be it even without camera in tow, and today, this is enough. 

Sitting on South Congress
at 6:33am
to document the sun rise,
but using words
instead of pictures,
iced two shots of espresso
one pump of mocha,
people passing
sun filling my eyes
making a memory
in words
without a lens
but the two gifted me
today.

C'est la vie.
Have a lovely day, my friend. 

33 Sunrises x Day 2 | Waking Up at Mueller Lake Park →

At 5:45am as my alarm went off I struggled with either driving downtown or staying closer to home. I hit the snooze and drove to the park Emiliana and I frequent. 

Waking up at Mueller Lake Park 
While it's a man made recent development, I read they planned the lake around the existing trees and old airport hanger. Well-played, Austin. Since my old favorite willow tree at Butler Park was cut down last fall, I find much solace in the older willows that grace the lake here. 

There's a farmers market on Sunday mornings next to the hangar, from 10-2pm. That's when there's fresh produce from several local farms, a couple of local coffee brewers, baked goods and a few unique shops like vintage spoons etched and custom knives. It's one of the better ones in Austin, I think, mostly because of the live music and children running around. Oftentimes Tiny Tails to You will set up shop with baby animals and they'll be a face-painter and story-telling too. And that's just on Sunday. 

The Thinkery, the newly built children's museum is a few blocks away and a gigantic outdoor park just across the street. It's quiet on the weekdays. I was surprised with just how few runners there were. I pretty much shared the park with the ducks trying to nip at my calves and turtles until closer to 8AM. By 8:30 there were kids and dog walkers and the sun high in the sky.

I didn't know what to expect this morning. I found Mueller to be a nature haven compared to the concrete and architecture that surrounded me yesterday. I've not claimed to nor ever felt myself a nature photographer, but this morning it was delightful trying to find the tiniest almost imperceptible changes that the rising of the sun brought. I would walk down a path the sun hadn't hit and 5 minutes later the entire field was lit up with an explosion of light. 

It's all about timing, right? Timing and trust. 
I have a lot to learn...

Good morning, Mueller. :) The pleasure was mine.

   

33 Sunrises x Day 1

I needed a personal project. Naturally it began on my favorite spot, the Lamar Pedestrian Street Bridge. So very lovely to see you at the crack of day, Austin, Texas and lovely meeting you Kenneth.