Pamela Jo Bowman

As I ride in the morning I often see this visually interesting shot. I want a crane to get the movement without the camera shadow. I think, movie? music video? documentary? hmmm. By the time I get to the park I pretty much have forgotten about the shot. After all by then I have moved on to movie ideas, the thought of falling into the canal, the scene re-write for the day, the man wearing a purple jogging suit (rather unattractive, shouldn’t someone tell him?) and all the little chores I am suppose to take care of that day. Day after day, except cloudy ones, I see the image again and I remember again and I begin again. That could be a great shot. The subtext. The rough gray wall, the shadow and movement. I arrive at the cement picnic table breathless because a.) I’m tired and b.) I see this. Blinded with the possibilities of this life, my life. Back on the bike. So much I want to learn and do and see. Chasing that shadow that is always a tad ahead of me. Keep pumping. Keep pumping. Keep pumping.

‘No message is the utmost message, for what we tell is done.’ Emily Dickinson

O.K. I’ll let you know up front, I never cared for the girl’s poetry. It was just a tad much for my liking.

So, now as I am researching out her life and unfolding who I think she was and, now, words cannot express the awe and respect I have for her genius. She was brilliant.

Her writings eloquently convey her thoughts and those thoughts then expand my thoughts. They also inspire me to think and believe that I too can share my thoughts and touch others.

And so can you. If that is what you want.

‘Adulation is inexpensive, except to him who accepts it. It costs him Himself.’ Emily Dickinson