Just a late afternoon brief stop to let Sic play before heading out to work. The light was amazing. No perfect shots but almost…
My Mom died early this morning.
I remember mason jars full of paint brushes sitting in turpentine, a palette rich with layers of paint, colors blending spilling swirling into each other. Trays of messy greasy beautiful oil pastels. Stacks of canvas’s, she would go back to her easel every day until each canvas became a painting. Sketch books–the ones with the brown cover and sometimes an expensive hard cover one to take on trips, and charcoal pencils. Skinny lemon twist cigarettes, a ring of frosted pink lipstick on the butt. Thick silver and turquoise bracelets. One of kind hand made rings– gold, silver, mixed gemstones, statement pieces. Dangly earrings. Long gauze shirts and embroidered coats. Her taste ran to the rich hippie look, textures and wild prints– Marimekko, Mizzoni. Eyelash curler, clumpy mascara. Blond hair always in one of those sexy messy updos, bangs floating across her forehead. Hand blown glassware, full of bubbles. Kahlua and cream, boonesfarm strawberry wine. Glasses on top of her head. She could never find them. A red rambler station wagon covered in flower power stickers. She let us ride on top down country roads. I remember laughing so hard when she would suddenly proclaim that she had lost control of the car, as it veered back and forth wildly, her shouting back to me “I can’t control her” she named her car The Red Baroness “shes got a mind of her own” and we would scream and laugh as that car took over and drove us to the ice cream store. She always got the weirdest flavors, Pistachio and Lime Daquari, double scoop please. No pretending to be on a diet when it came to ice cream cones, a double scoop or nothing. And one for each of the dogs. She never went anywhere without her pack of dogs with her. They sat outside the grocery store, offleash, occasionally wandering in, strolling the aisles. Her favorite bars and restaurants were the ones that let our dogs lay under our table. She had a million friends, artists, actors, everyone was interesting. She loved parties and late nights. She was terrible cook, lost her mind on the holidays. Bought us too many presents. Painted her house purple, filled it with artwork from her travels and had the very most decorated tree every xmas. She raised me right, brought me up with a paintbrush in my hand and a dog to run wild with, through the woods, across the water in my little sunfish sailboat. Come home by sunset or just a little later. She liked to disappear from the world to a cabin or a tent in the woods for days, weeks. And this beach was everything, her beach. Its what I see when I think of her. The narrow twisting path opening to gold sand, wild blue lake michagan water, breakwall, light house, manitou island off on the horizon, fishing boats leaving the harbor. Our dogs running down the beach. My mom in her suit, hair up, lipstick on. That orange Bain De Soleill suntan lotion. I loved the smell of it. Swimming until my fingertips were wrinkled., holding my breath skimming along the bottom eyes open grabbing fish with my hands. Coming up for air, my mom waving from the beach. Crackers and cheese, pickles, sand everywhere. Once a week she would try to comb out my hair while I sat on a towel looking out at the lake. Johnsons No More Tangles spray and a comb, she tried but I was wild and my hair was always a mess. Fast changes with a towel wrapped around you. Tennis shoes, cut offs, a tshirt and a windbreaker. Never leaving until the sun went down. Her beach. RIP Christine Elizabeth Walker
Wrigley is an 8 year old Old English Sheepdog. But thats just the technical details. What she really is is a fierce fabulous queen. A drivey intense girl with a big bold presence. She’s not your new best friend but she has a secret club and if you’re cool enough she might give you the password.
This was a beautiful happy accident. I didn’t even know I had taken it until I went back through some lightroom folders.
Im not a real photographer. But I love taking pictures. So I started a small dog photography business, hence the Lotu Foto watermark on some images.
So proud of my good boys. These guys are best friends. They both qualified for semi finals and then they both made it into finals at the Splash Dogs National Championship 2016 in Las Vegas.
We all had a great time jumping off the docks, watching all the awesome dogs, hanging out with friends, hiking at lake mead and exploring the giant bass pro shop at the competition site.Sic had a great first year of jumping but my bad throws are always the weak spot for our team.This year the national championship was all about Zero, and that’s what I had hoped it would be. He qualified last year as well but we didn’t go, I thought we would have a lot of chances to go in the future, but then I found out right after that he was losing his eyesight. I regretted not going so much. It was a huge surprise to get to go this year. Zeros never been a big jumper but omg he loves it so much. He wore his Rex Specs on the days when his jumps were right into the sun. He struggled to find his toy in the pool overtime, no matter how big a toy I threw. He vision is down to such a low level around 3% in his right eye and nothing in the other eye. Along with the PRA and the torn retina he was diagnosed with glaucoma this year.
Zero the little blind cow dog 2nd Place in Finals. No giant ribbon to pose with yet because they got stolen. But what matters most to me was how much fun my dogs made out of every minute of our nationals.
If it takes too long for a toy to land in the water Sic will find a thing, any thing thats in the water to nerd out with.
He dives into a wave and comes out with the weirdest things. This thing was a plastic disc with long strands of seaweed strung through holes along its edges.