Gogovivi

Procrastination Means Love

It has taken me four months of procrastination, but I have just finished editing the photos from a newborn baby portrait session from last September.

Four months of forgetfulness, avoidance, and indecision. I couldn't decide which photos I liked, which I wanted to edit, or how I wanted the final shots to look. I was too busy with other things, and just too burned out with photo editing to bother. The mom even had to come to me and say..."uh, Kiley, I know you're busy, but remember those photos you took...?"

This isn't my normal professional behavior. I usually turn around my clients photographs within two weeks. But you see, this wasn't my normal "client", either. These photos were of my friend Rebecca and her baby Marty(pants), and these photos were special. They were the last of a long series that I started taking of Rebecca when she was 15 weeks pregnant, a series that documented her changing body and journey into motherhood, a series that grew as our friendship grew, and resulted in some of the best photos I have ever taken. These photos were also the last ones I had the privilege to shoot of this beautiful pair, before they left Qingdao to repatriate to the U.S.

It seems obvious to me now the putting off finishing the photos was my way of denying that this chapter is over, that Rebecca and Marty have moved on, and that an ocean and twelve time zones now separates me from my good friend. Although we only knew each other for two years, her influence remains. It shows most clearly in my photography, for which she patiently sat still over the course of eleven different sessions while I tested new techniques, new lighting, and new locations. But it also shows in other, subtler ways. Rebecca taught a 40-year old me to shake my booty, Latin style, as my Zumba teacher. As a devoted and confident Christian, she suffered through long discussions about faith, what it means, who the faithful are, and the loss of all faith I experienced when Miles died, all without defense or judgement. She got me hooked on Chinese massage, to the point that for a time, she and I were getting two massages a week. She is a business woman, a fashionista, a fitness instructor, a Christian, and a true friend.

I want to share some of my favorite photos from these sessions. Like this one, which I took while lying in the pool in my bikini, when Rebecca was so pregnant at 39.5 weeks that she could barely float.

Here, she is 30 weeks pregnant and still teaching Zumba 4 times a week.

Or these two, which I love for their simple beauty, taken as I was learning to wrangle off-camera flash, before her baby bump really even showed.

The photos are finally done, Rebecca. These are the last of them. I procrastinated because I miss you and didn't want our time together in Qingdao to end. With all my love.

A Cold Day in Jimo

Jet lagged and cold, and against all the instincts that told me, begged me, to stay home, be warm, and rest, I boarded the 8:30 am bus to Jimo City. Jimo is one of those ubiquitous, faceless towns that form the suburbs of Qingdao: without any obvious reason for being, sans any apparent charm or character, but housing millions of Chinese in apartment blocks notable only for their sprawl and anonymity. Or so it seems to me, through my critical, tired, myopic expat eyes.

When finally we arrived at the primary school, in the village beyond the reach of the urban sprawl, our bus was met by two long columns of children, clapping excitedly and proudly greeting us while waving tall red flags symbolic of the pride and heritage of China. The anonymity of the suburbs vanishes amidst this sea of young faces, so excited and optimistic, but also nervous and shy. The foreigners are here. 

I came on a bus full of foerign students on their annual school charity project. Throughout the month of December, students and families from Vivian's international school collected bags full of basic necessities to share with needy families: cooking oil, rice, warm blankets and clothing, even coal for their coal-burning heaters. Today we would distribute the bags at a rural school, and my purpose on the trip was documentation.

It was the worst kind of day for photography; the skies were thick with coal smoke and the sun was so deeply shrouded that shadows were absent. Gray, gray, more gray. Plus cold, frigid cold...but still I managed to find scenes of surprising beauty in the grayness, in the faces, and in the moment.

This wasn't just a school event; it was a community event. The students from both schools were excited, and the excitement spread beyond the walls of the school. Look carefully at the photo below and behind the lone girl watching from a distance you see the crowd of families and friends waiting in anticipation behind the locked gate.

As always, my camera loves faces more than anything else; as always, my camera is not disappointed.

Long-Haul Travel with a Kid: My Top Tips

Vivian and I have just returned from our winter holiday, after a 12+-hour flight across the Pacific, followed by a 5-hour layover in Beijing, plus another 90 minutes in the air home to Qingdao. For both of us, it was a long 24-hour stretch with no sleep. The next day Vivian, being young and resilient as she is, didn't let the fatigue get her down. For her, playing with friends new and old was more important than napping. I, on the other hand, spent half the day immobile on the bed, unable to sleep but also unable to even think about any kind of work.

As I indulged in post-travel malaise, I reflected on six years of long-haul flights. These long flights have become so routine in our lives that now I think of a 6-hour flight as "short", and after a dozen hops between continents with a small child along, I have learned a thing or two about crossing oceans with kids.

• Arrival Time: For long flights with significant time changes, I prefer day flights that arrive in the evening over night flights that arrive in the morning. This is contrary to other advice I have received, but I find it easiest to suffer a long flight awake, or mostly so, and collapse into bed for a full night sleep shortly after arriving.
• Day flights vs. Night flights: Arriving in the evening often means taking day flights, which many parents I know avoid. Most families I know prefer night flights so that their children can sleep on the plane. That strategy is good only if your child will actually sleep on a plane. My child will not - EVER - sleep on flights, long or short. Unless its 20 minutes to landing, when she can be relied on to pass out.
• Amenities: Be careful choosing a flight. If parental sanity is even nearly as important to you as price tag, you will want to consider more than just price, duration, and layovers. In this day and age, most long-haul carriers provide in-seat Video on Demand (VOD) with programming that is suitable for children. Find out before you buy at Seat Guru.
• In-flight entertainment: In the event your flight does not have VOD, prepare other ways to entertain your kid. Coloring books, crayons, and books work for us, but become heavy quickly, and only entertain for an hour or two. For us, electronics are the way to go, but most gadgets have batteries that are drained well before the flight ends. We double-up on gadgets when we can (though our budget and our parenting choices restrict this option somewhat). Some flights that do not provide VOD do provide in-seat power for recharging laptops and video gadgets, which can solve the battery life problem. Consult Seat Guru to find out if the flight you are considering has a power option.
• Bulkheads: Be careful choosing seats and re-consider the bulkhead seats. Many families I know always choose the bulkhead seats when traveling in economy class with children. These seats do offer some advantages like extra leg room, easier access to your seat, optional bassinettes for babies, and no disgruntled passenger seated immediately in front of a bored child who might find kicking the seat entertaining. My family has outgrown the bulkhead, though, and here's why.
  • No seatback storage for easy access to the child's playthings, and more importantly,
  • No under-seat storage for easy access to backpacks.
  • The arms of bulkhead seats typically do not lift, because the table and/or VOD devices are stopred inside the armrest. If your child likes to lay on your lap to sleep, bulkhead seats make this impossible.
  • Bulkhead seats are often located behind the toilets. The traffic, noise, and disruption are enough to disturb a sleeping child; the unpleasantness of unwanted smells disturbs everyone.
  • In flights without VOD, the bulkhead is typically immediately in front of the large shared video screen, which is a constant source of visual stimulation that is difficult to avoid and can make it more difficult for restless children to sleep. 
• Last words: Finally, the best piece of strategic advice I ever received as a new parent-long haul traveler: never, ever, let your kid wander around the plane. Good travel manners start young, and letting a kid run amock on the plane sets the stage for a childhood full of headaches. We always require Vivian to remain seated with her seatbelt on; she can't entertain herself by running up and down the aisles, she can't make too much noise, and she cannot ever, ever, kick the seat in front of her. Its easier that way. Trust me.

 

 

 

Naked in Half Moon Bay

Although I have been to California a time or two, somehow I didn't expect our winter holiday to end with a mini-beach vacation. Perhaps I would have been more prepared if our itinerary took us to San Diego, but San Francisco? The last thing I expected to be doing in January in San Francisco is chasing a naked kid around the beach.

My best friend and honorary sister Julie is living in Half Moon Bay (she claims its not a permanent situation, but I'll believe her when she moves back to PDX). I suppose San Fran lifers would argue that Half Moon Bay and San Francisco are not nearly the same place, but to this Oregonian, close enough is close enough. The last time I was in San Francisco was in August of 2008, and I remember quite well being so cold that I had to go out and buy a warm scarf and hat. So you'll forgive me for expecting that January would be a little colder than August.

And you'll know that I am wrong. Naked kids on beaches do not lie.

I'm practicing with a new camera, the Fuji X100. Remember it? I have been lusting after it for more than a year now. Its my new backup/travel camera and after a few days of buyer's remorse, I am starting to think that we might get along ok. More on that later. In the meantime, Zai Tian Half Moon Bay, we are returning to Qingdao tomorrow!

 

Five reasons I love Central Oregon

• That special evening light over the Three Sisters

• Jack Frost

• Cousins

• Grandparents

• Blue skies and rocky crags

It's been a wonderful Christmas season, so far. So eventful, and so mellow.

The Moon over Qingdao

What a beautiful surprise in the sky last night - a full lunar eclipse, and perhaps a greater surprise, a clear and crisp, smog-free night in Qingdao on which to view it. Having never attempted to photograph such an event before, I set up in the sub-freezing temperatures in the back garden with my camera, tripod, remote release, and 300 mm lens to see what I could do.

It was a beautiful way to spend a winter's evening. Knowing that friends around Asia and even on the other side of the Pacific were watching the same moon at the same moment made it even more special. In those moments, I felt not so far from home.

Christmas lights

Coming soon to a family Christmas near you.

Around our Thanksgiving Table

• Eight adults and ten children under the age of 8.
• Americans, Chinese, Israelis, Dutch, British, Australian

• Turkey, cornbread dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, ginger carrots, spinach salad, sweet potatoes
• Pecan pie, pumpkin pie, and homemade cheescake ice cream

• Chilled Prosecco, Cabernet and Merlot
• Milk for the kids

The worst part of expat life is being so far from home for the holidays. But the best, absolute best, part of expat life is sharing our holidays and traditions with these amazing people we have grown to know and love, people who come from such different backgrounds, cultures, and parts of the world. I am so grateful for these friends and the opportunities we have had to be part of their lives. Happy Thanksgiving.

 

Holiday Cards and Calendars: For a Purpose

This holiday season, in a new endeavor, I have designed a range of holiday cards, note cards, and calendars using my photographs and original designs.

The details are all in the flyer above, and I will be selling the entire range until December 11. Prices are as follows:

• Holiday cards: packets containing 5 cards of one style (choose either China or Qingdao): 40 RMB
• Note cards: packets containing 6 assorted cards (3 packets to choose from): 40 RMB
• Calendars: Two designs to choose from, A4 size, spiral bound, 14 pages: 100 RMB each.

All proceeds will go to A Voice is Heard, a small non-profit community development organization that operates in developing countries. This February I plan to volunteer my time and money to travel to Kenya with this group to document in photographs their current projects, which include building wells, small business development, and other community-based projects. The funds I raise will cover my travel expenses and all remaining proceeds will be given to the group as a cash donation.

These cards and calendars make a great gift for friends and family back home, to help showcase the culture and beauty of China.

Please support me and A Voice is Heard by buying my holiday cards, notecards, and calendars this holiday season. You can reach me at gogovivi@gmail.com with direct orders or visit me at the Qingdao holiday markets.

 

 

Looking at Myself: 42

I really feel for everyone who has let me photograph them in the past year. Stepping in front of the camera is a like taking a leap of faith; it is hard to do. You have to trust that the photographer is going to be kind and will be able to see something that represents your best self. Or at least your real self.

That dynamic doesn't change when the subject and the photographer are the same person. The me that is taking the photo is not really the same me as the one in front of the camera. The subject me feels anxious and vulnerable and exposed while the photographer me just wants to capture an image that says something about who my subject is and why she is there.