Lomographic Miracles on the Mountain

As promised, I'm back with a second batch of Lomography-inspired photos, shot on my Android phone at Stevens Pass and edited on Photobucket. 

They're not perfect, by any means, but then that's the whole point of the Lomographic movement, isn't it? 

Don't think. Just shoot. 

I'm on it. I can so do that. 

These photos come with a story. As my youngest and I were riding around, enjoying the fresh snow and the clear blue skies, we momentarily stopped at one of our nonverbally-but-mutually-agreed-upon meeting places. We were catching our breath and taking in the beautiful scene when someone came skidding to a stop just a few feet away from us, and said, "Hey, Streichers!"

 

 

Hmm. Confusing and socially awkward moment. On the mountain, we are all pretty much swaddled from head to toe in layers of identity-disguising outerwear. Literally, all I could see of this person was the lower half of his (yes, it was definitely male) nose. Not much to go on. 

Side note: This is why it's a good idea to buy a relatively unique ski jacket and wear it for as many years as possible. Because your friends will be able to recognize you by your jacket, even if you are sailing by in the chairlift and they are down below on the ground, or vice versa. A well-known jacket is an important social tool on the mountain. Just saying.

 

Anyway, back to my anonymous greeter. After responding with a smoothly calibrated and subtly inquisitive reply - I think I said, "Who are you?!" - he identified himself as Clay, one of my former students and long-time family friends. And let's be honest, over the years, he earned himself a reputation as an accomplished trouble-maker and all-around mischievous boy. Proud of it, too.

But no matter. I'm always happy to meet up with a friend, and I invited him to ride with us, an offer he quickly accepted. Launching into my super chatty mode, I began asking him about how things were going in this, his first year after graduating from high school.

I was surprised and delighted by what I heard. Well, to be honest, the basic facts weren't exactly great. He had just been laid off his job. He has a few little problems with the law. (Ahem. I oversimplified that.)  His parents are not necessarily thrilled with all of his life choices.

But listening beyond those challenges, I heard a maturing young man talk about what mattered to him. Proudly, he gave me the latest head count on his new nieces and nephews. (Three girls, one boy) He told me about his helpful advice to a lovesick younger brother. (If you like a girl, ask her out to eat. That will always impress her.) And he shared his dreams for building a career. (He'd like to be working outside, preferably in something related to extreme sports. But right now, he'd settle for painting lines on the highways.)

And as we were talking, I realized that Clay was teaching me that in many ways, life is a lot like the Ten Golden Rules of Lomography. Sometimes you just have to shoot from the hip, find a way to get close to what you want, and be fast. You won't always know beforehand what you are capturing, or even afterward. Every rule is meant to be broken (I guess that's why we have lawyers), and sometimes, we just don't even think.  

But in that messy place where random creativity meets inspired brilliance, naughty little boys can grow up to be thoughtful young men. My friends, miracles do really happen.