Minute by Minute

Her voice startles me in the somber quiet of the waiting room.

"What is that thing?" she asks.

I look over in surprise and then explain it is a Sony pocket ereader. It holds books and news.

She asks me in garbled language whether it goes online. At least I think that's what she means. It sounds as though she doesn't know much about computers to ask the question. I explain it does not, and that I have to upload books from the computer myself. She glazes over, and I turn away, back to my own business.

Three seats away, a fellow's iphone blurts out a sentence fragment--"Hello" in a big, sunny female voice that shatters the waiting room's silence like glass breaking. He stifles it and curls up into himself. I go back to my reading while particles of guilt pick at my brain's outer layers. The woman next to me. She only wanted someone to chat with. Her eyes when I look are restless, nervous. Pill bottles poke out of her hand bag. She's taken a seat too close to me. Only one empty chair separates us. That's bad form. The guy's iphone blurts out again, and once more his quick stifle.

Are we becoming a generation of isolationists? All of these electronic gizmos...with them, we can communicate in other ways instead of with those in the present. And for me, an old-fashioned book is easy to lay aside, but an electronic ereader demands respect. It is too important to lay aside. All shiny and trendy. It's not some paper book with bent corners and dirty, crinkled pages.

In the exam room, I wait some more. The doctor hurries in. He signs insurance papers for me while at the same time scans a monitor. I correct and add to some of what catches his eye. He helps me to the exam table and starts the required poking and prodding. All comes to a complete halt listening to my heart. He puts his hand on my chest and listens more. The silence in the room deafens me. He asks when I last had an EKG. He says he heard an extra heart beat. I've been without insurance for a while, so I tell him at least three years have gone by. He orders one and says he'll be back.

Later, after the test, he smiles and states my EKG is better than his. I'm released from the brief worry and switch back to regular mode, pondering as is my fashion, if the remark is from the doctor's box of standard words and phrases, like, "Take two aspirin and call me in the morning." It doesn't matter. Standard phrases mean life is normal. That's the main thing. Normal.

Copyright 2010 JO Janoski

Surviving Winter

Sitting here gazing out the window, I'm overwhelmed at the mounds of snow. Twenty-three inches+ have pummeled the area in the last week. And although the last two days have melted away several inches, there are atrocious stacks remaining, some higher than my waist.

It was when I stumbled for coffee this morning, pouring but missing the cup, I realized my brain was as snowbound as the rest of me. Yes, it's true. In my skull there is a snowstorm brewing--flakes are flying, scattered willy nilly and refusing to formulate into anything solid...just swooshing and swirling, fragmented pandemonium, stacking up but only in chaotic heaps.

Ah, I just heard a bump and a crash. That would be more of the white stuff sliding off the roof. My flaky brain feels kinship with the fallen heap. It reaches out to its brother. I find that worrisome.

But on to solving the problem. There are ways. Perhaps I could find a quiet corner and embrace a good book transporting me to another time and place. Or I could vegetate on the sofa with a good movie. Same fix. A game of solitaire? A crossword? Anything to get the neurons shooting, firing off and melting the flying flakes in my head.

A Sudoku! Now that's the ticket...a mind-boggling crash of numbers who refuse to obey. They torment, frustrate, inspire rage. And with rage comes fire, fire to melt the flakes and pump the blood...clarity, not so much. If I had clarity, I would solve the Sudoku, and we all know that isn't going to happen. But the effort will make me alive again. There's nothing like a good Sudoku to set the brain afire. That's the ticket.

Copyright 2010 JO Janoski

From My Journal...

October 14. 2009:

This morning I toasted whole wheat bread to make toast. I eat whole wheat because experts tell me it is healthy. I spread it with an equally wholesome omega spread and finally smear on the good stuff, apple butter. The apple butter makes the rest palatable. I rushed around; I slept late this morning. My body rhythms are screaming to turn back the clocks, but these days we have to wait until November to conserve energy -- longer days for an extended period of time. In the old days, we turned them back in October and didn't care about conserving. That felt right. October turnback to me is as fundamental as salt and pepper or the ABC's. But what do I know? I'm not an expert.

Maybe I'm not using my head right. My Dad used to tease us kids by saying that. "You're not using your head right!" I remember the first time he said it to my husband, "Ronnie, you're not using your head right." When he said it, I smiled inside...

A Story for Bob

Repost from a group dedicated to remembering Bob Church, writer and blogger extraordinaire. If you knew Bob and would like to join us, here is the address:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LifeisShortRetreat/

The prompt:

Let's all write about one incident that we would have loved to
share with Bob knowing he would appreciate the story. Write as if you are
telling him today, because you are and I'm sure he is listening!

Bob, my friend,
If there was one niggle that chattered at me from your writes, it was the simple truth that life is absurd. No matter how beautiful, hip, or talented you are, there comes a day when the planets align, laughing, and with a hearty kick in the arse send you whirling into the most absurd situation on earth.

When was my most absurd moment? Well, truth be told, there were countless ones. But today I share with you an absurdity, a mind game if you will, that came simply and unexpected out of nowhere and with a certain elegance in its execution. The absurdity gods outdid themselves.

Being a non driver, I am by necessity a seasoned bus rider. I rode buses every day, not only in Pittsburgh, but also when we lived in a small town in Maryland, a very small town. I hate to say it, but when rednecks drive buses, there's no more stopping for stop signs or obeying speed limits. These rebel bus jockeys yahooed and drove those buses like the Indy 500. On my route to work every day just three successive quick swerves and I'd be thrown to the floor were it not for my great preparation to stay seated, clinging to the bar of the seat in front of me. I grumbled to myself as I hung on, knuckles white, one day so consternated when I got to work I wrote an anonymous letter of complaint to the company.

Not long after, one gloomy evening, I sat in GeeBee's having coffee and waiting for my bus to go home from work. They didn't run often, so frequently I had a long wait, thus the coffee interlude. I wondered how it would be that day, since my rides were steeped in never-ending drama. Would the bus be on time? Would it be early? Their schedule keeping ran as fast and loose as their driving. Would the goddarn driver be yeehawing and simply speed right past my stop, leaving me without a ride? It had happened before.

To my surprise, a half dozen bus drivers, caps in hand, arrived and lined up at the counter directly across from where I sat. I had never seen such a collection of brooding faces. Might I mention here, a sad redneck is a tragic sight. Those uneven teeth, usually blaring, now hid behind brooding, closed lips. Red flushed faces were replaced by pale listlessness. They had not a single yeehaw to offer from the bunch.

"Indy 500! Hmmph," one said.

I leaned forward to listen, my heart pounding.

"You better watch those quick swerves!" his friend shot back with a generous snort.

"You redneck!" another one growled, forcing it out in a slow, breathy hiss.

My heart screeched and my hands shook. Those were my words! I had written that scathing letter to the bus company, and the drivers were now quoting me, apparently reprimanded by their superior. Unbeknownst to them, their very critic was at that moment staring at them from across the counter in sheer panic.

Now, what are the chances a person can end up close enough to rub noses with those he ridicules in print? It was too weird! The subjects of my words, in this case, redneck bus drivers, were supposed to be a collective group of anonymous boobs whom I would never see or know.

I fled. I fled with more speed than those rambunctious drivers. I broke speed limits, knocked over old ladies, and I got out of there. I waited for my bus down the street, whistling an innocent tune, boarding said vehicle without looking up, scrunched in my seat all the way home. I wonder what you would have done, Bob...

Six Unremarkable Things About Moi! I've been tagged!

1. I don't drive. I've tried, but I have an intense fear of physical danger.

2. I haven't listened to popular music hardly at all since the late 60's. I love classical music even though I don't know much about it.

3. I love everything from the 19th Century. I absolutely swoon at antiques of any kind. I'm convinced I lived then and then somehow in a weird cosmic burp I got dumped here.

4. And yet, I embrace modern technology. I love computers. I've used mac, windows, and ubuntu. I have no fear.

5. I love nature like it's religion, but I'm not a tree hugger, but rather an artist of a sort, writing about it and photographing it, never politicizing it.

6. I absolutely hate having company around the house. Please don't visit me. I'd rather meet friends at restaurants.



Many thanks to Jo (the other one) for tagging me. I in turn tag Bob, Harry, Shirley, Scot, and Terry--You guys know who you are!

Photographing Dogs and Other Small Animals

Our pets, warm and cuddly, bursting with cuteness, why wouldn't you want a photo of your little honey to show others or to perch on your desk in a nice frame. But where to begin. How do you get a technically good picture and one that depicts your dog's personality?


First, the setting. As usual, outdoors with open shade is preferable to sunny glare or indoors, where a flash going off presents a whole new problem of "red eye," or in a dog's case, blue or even green eye. If you must do the photo indoors, use a digital camera so you can take it to Photoshop easily and paint out the blue or green lights. The prepackaged "red eye" fix that comes with your camera software won't work on blue or green eye glare.


Some technical considerations. Choose a background that contrasts with the animal. Or use a telephoto lens which will let you blur the background. You want the animal to stand out as much as possible. Also, the exposure itself can be problematic. A very dark animal will require some overexposure to maintain details in the fur. A white animal is better under-exposed to keep its fur from be washed out.


Next, how to photograph your pet--there are a couple different options. Squirmy, fidgeting dogs aren't easy to settle down for a portrait. You may choose to photograph the animal with a family member who can control it. If you prefer the dog alone, try offering your pooch a favorite toy to keep him occupied. Whichever you choose, the next step is to get your animal's attention while you click the shutter. Use a squeaky toy, held just behind the camera, to make the dog look up.


Also, move in close. Fill the frame with your pet. Furnishings or background are not part of this story. Your pet is. So get in there and make this picture all about him. Keep your camera at eye level with the dog. You want to be down where he lives. You'll probably have to get on your knees. Make eye contact, or use the squeaky toy. Try a variety of shots, too. Think like an artist to bring out your dog's personality, looking for characteristic gestures, postures, and nuances that describe your dog.


If you photograph in digital, it won't cost you anything to take lots of shots. Even if you're using film, isn't it worth a few pennies to shoot lots of angles and try every idea? So indulge yourself, make up your mind to get a great portrait; and most importantly, treasure this special event with your animal. Our animals are with us a very short time, and a good pet portrait will be loved forever.


Copyright 2007 JO Janoski

Photographing Fireworks

   The photograph that started it all for our business, Janoski Studio Pittsburgh Photographs, was a fireworks photo. Taken on a whim, my husband shot fireworks blazing against a night time cityscape sky illuminated by Pittsburgh office buildings, bringing the two together to tell a story brimming with local appeal. At our first art show, the picture proved to be a spectacular winner over everyday nature scenes.There is drama and pizazz in fireworks that cannot be denied.
    In those days of film cameras, the process produced distinct splashes of color as each burst took its time to burn on the film before the next blast overtook it. They were splendid photos. But along came the modern age where computers took control of fireworks launches, shooting off bursts in quick succession, at times even set to music. Boom, boom! A razzle-dazzle overpowering effect for the audience, but a nightmare for photographers. The bursts now come so quickly, there isn't time to isolate one or two beautiful clusters for a well-defined photo. Now the photographer is bombarded with blast after blast filling the photo frame, accumulated smoke hovering in the air, and overexposure imminent from the light of multiple clusters going off in quick succession. With an illuminated background, it becomes a juggling act to balance exposure of both the fireworks and background. What a mess.
    But you shouldn't give up. I keep trying. Now and then I tame the monster and get a good shot. So let's begin. Here are some steps to follow.
    Location. Location. Location. I remember during those days of our cityscape fireworks shoots, location was a nightmare. Fireworks are popular events, with crowds of not only adults, but children, children who kick tripods, children whose parents won't appreciate if you shove them out of your way. A good point. Choose a spot that has a good view, but be polite. It is a good idea, since tripods with legs spread take up room, to ask nearby patrons first if you may set up...unless you get there first. Then you have "squatter's rights," so to speak. All the same, no matter how early you arrive, you'll find the crowds pushing in on your turf. Be patient with them. Fireworks are for fun. Don't spoil it for anyone.
    Equipment. Of course, you need your camera set at ISO 100 for good clean pictures that blow up well, and extra film or an extra memory card, whichever applies. But also use a tripod and a cable release. A level is not a bad idea to be certain your camera is properly positioned for a level horizon.
    The Fine Points. I recommend a normal or wide-angle lens to allow a wider plane to catch the bursts. A telephoto is too confining. Determine ahead of time the area of the sky where the fireworks will happen and position your camera. Focus on infinity. No auto focus or exposure here. Set your camera on "bulb" and f/11 or f/16 and insert the cable release You now have your camera in a fixed position, ready to open the lens and close it at will. Fireworks require a timed exposure, meaning a prolonged exposure, which you will perform  by hand with the cable release.
    An exact exposure time in general terms is impossible to predict due to the variability of fireworks and surrounding scenery, etc., but my rule of thumb is to release the shutter when a burst starts and keep the lens open for several bursts. If the bursts are not in quick succession, then cover the lens with the palm of your hand or a black piece of paper between bursts. I would try three bursts. If you have a digital camera, check to see how you are doing between shots and make adjustments as needed. If the bursts are washed out, put fewer per picture. If the opposite is true, do more. Your f-stop also provides another way to control exposure. Open up or close down as needed.   
   Once the bursts start, this is an intense photo shoot. You can't go back and try again, and there's no time to think. So plan ahead. If you're using film, use a 36-exposure roll so you don't have to change rolls, or with digital use a memory card with plenty of room. Be ready when the fireworks start, having your camera on bulb, your cable release inserted, camera on the tripod, level, focused and aimed. It's crazy, but remember, fireworks are for fun. With a calm hand and a little luck, you'll get a beautiful shot to enlarge and hang in your home.



 Copyright 2007 JO Janoski