<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421</id><updated>2011-12-20T21:39:34.634-08:00</updated><category term='determination'/><category term='Realism'/><category term='seize the day'/><category term='photography'/><category term='gramma'/><category term='courage'/><category term='Optimism'/><category term='Principles'/><category term='Abby'/><category term='on-purpose'/><category term='gratitude'/><category term='Inspiration'/><category term='Grouse Grind'/><category term='understanding'/><category term='grieving'/><category term='self-awareness'/><category term='to be of service'/><category term='Perseverence'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='goal setting'/><category term='natural beauty'/><category term='family'/><category term='random thoughts'/><category term='80/20 rule'/><category term='The importance of music'/><category term='living In-spirit'/><category term='Taoism'/><category term='life&apos;s purpose'/><title type='text'>The Book of Kees</title><subtitle type='html'>Originally, this blog was created to showcase my photography.  I intended to upload images I had shot, portraits I had captured, and maybe write a few words. After the first or second posting, I realized that my desire to maintain a blog stemmed from a deep desire to make myself heard, as well as to showcase my photography. Welcome to my thoughts and experiences.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-9142806210170985245</id><published>2011-03-02T21:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:34:51.057-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The importance of music'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3gREieRFBDM/TW8m7dKy6iI/AAAAAAAAAPg/iX_WeRsh2sY/s1600/Tom%2Bcochrane05.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3gREieRFBDM/TW8m7dKy6iI/AAAAAAAAAPg/iX_WeRsh2sY/s400/Tom%2Bcochrane05.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579721266219379234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The importance of music cannot be understated in society.  When I see world news, when I see Gaddafi using cigar sized bullets on his own citizens, when I read about lying Canadian politicians, the only thing that pulls me back is music. Its too much. The soul cannot take so much deception. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thank God for music, for visionaries like Tom Cochrane, Tim Williams, Tom Waits, Gordie Johnson, Leonard Cohen, Mike Plume, and Chris Rea. For having the strength to create music to lift the spirits of those who listen. For having the creativity to enlighten us with a message you want to send. Whether you sing about the Alberta oilpatch, a baseball player and Marilyn Monroe, a picture in a frame, or an Inn, you have brightened my existence in such a profound way, I don't know how to thank you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let me just say, Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-9142806210170985245?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/9142806210170985245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=9142806210170985245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/9142806210170985245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/9142806210170985245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2011/03/importance-of-music-cannot-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3gREieRFBDM/TW8m7dKy6iI/AAAAAAAAAPg/iX_WeRsh2sY/s72-c/Tom%2Bcochrane05.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-8446736783471758069</id><published>2010-10-31T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T16:09:52.004-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Hallowe'en</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TM33JZCbSkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/zdi127PxliI/s1600/IMG_1167.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TM33JZCbSkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/zdi127PxliI/s400/IMG_1167.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534351257820154434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all the other superheroes out there...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-8446736783471758069?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/8446736783471758069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=8446736783471758069' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/8446736783471758069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/8446736783471758069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2010/10/happy-halloween.html' title='Happy Hallowe&apos;en'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TM33JZCbSkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/zdi127PxliI/s72-c/IMG_1167.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-1545272744692132718</id><published>2010-08-17T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T21:38:41.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poppa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TGteky0yIhI/AAAAAAAAAPA/7tTx-SdA5Qo/s1600/Evan+at+banff+(s).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TGteky0yIhI/AAAAAAAAAPA/7tTx-SdA5Qo/s400/Evan+at+banff+(s).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506598955602027026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August 14, 2010: after waking up at 5:30 am, Evan played for a while, then to our relief, showed signs of tiring. As I tried to put him down, he fussed and woke up, so I rocked him back asleep and let him sleep on my lap.  I watched him for quite a while, sitting there in the campsite, and eventually he stirred.  He yawned, gazed up at me for a moment, then quietly said, "Poppa."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will remember this moment for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to Tania for capturing this image.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-1545272744692132718?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/1545272744692132718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=1545272744692132718' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1545272744692132718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1545272744692132718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2010/08/august-14-2010-after-waking-up-at-530.html' title='Poppa'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TGteky0yIhI/AAAAAAAAAPA/7tTx-SdA5Qo/s72-c/Evan+at+banff+(s).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-3181767404414906025</id><published>2010-07-10T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T09:32:55.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evan is growing!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TDifrGgt_OI/AAAAAAAAAO4/9hIJA53r6ow/s1600/Evan+at+8+months+(s)+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TDifrGgt_OI/AAAAAAAAAO4/9hIJA53r6ow/s400/Evan+at+8+months+(s)+(1).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492315308409355490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is unbelievable the changes we see day by day in Evan.  He discovers things continually, and learns very quickly.  Sometimes I see a change from the time I go to work, until the time I come home. Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the photography-minded, this was lit with window light only, camera right. I love my 85mm lens, wide open!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-3181767404414906025?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/3181767404414906025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=3181767404414906025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/3181767404414906025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/3181767404414906025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2010/07/evan-is-growing.html' title='Evan is growing!'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TDifrGgt_OI/AAAAAAAAAO4/9hIJA53r6ow/s72-c/Evan+at+8+months+(s)+(1).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-735694449856004322</id><published>2010-06-24T16:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T16:34:40.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Oma - you will be missed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TCP1bBbZl7I/AAAAAAAAAOw/ec_lICJ66yc/s1600/Oma+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TCP1bBbZl7I/AAAAAAAAAOw/ec_lICJ66yc/s400/Oma+(1).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486498615656028082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TCPxGjHoVwI/AAAAAAAAAOo/CCv_Yo1p1T4/s1600/oma2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 360px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TCPxGjHoVwI/AAAAAAAAAOo/CCv_Yo1p1T4/s400/oma2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486493865876150018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my oma passed away, after a long struggle with cancer. She was almost 97 years old. One of my favorite memories of Oma was talking to her about the difference between asking "How are you today?" in Canada versus asking in Holland. In Canada, most people are happy with answering "Fine, thanks" or "Not too bad", but in Holland, the question meant "How are you today, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt;? Or maybe that was just Oma, keeping it real. Anyway, I've never forgotten that conversation, and when I ask "How are you today?" what I'm really asking is "How are you &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt;?"  Thank you Oma, for showing me how to bring more depth to my relationships, and I wanted you to know that I appreciate our conversations. I am proud that I had the opportunity to introduce you to my wife, Tania. I am happy to have known you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-735694449856004322?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/735694449856004322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=735694449856004322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/735694449856004322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/735694449856004322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2010/06/goodbye-oma-you-will-be-missed.html' title='Goodbye Oma - you will be missed.'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/TCP1bBbZl7I/AAAAAAAAAOw/ec_lICJ66yc/s72-c/Oma+(1).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-4640618165741551254</id><published>2010-05-20T21:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T22:00:37.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What if...</title><content type='html'>you forgot that you couldn't do something?  Follow me if you will, a moment. What if you were able to leave that voice behind, the one that says you can't play guitar, or you can't shoot professionally, or that you can't sing all that well. Imagine the music you would make if you woke up tomorrow and forgot all that criticism. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to think that we would all be geniuses, if only we could forget that we can't play.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-4640618165741551254?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/4640618165741551254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=4640618165741551254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/4640618165741551254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/4640618165741551254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-if.html' title='What if...'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-1397868260683041002</id><published>2010-02-28T19:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T19:43:13.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our house is for sale!</title><content type='html'>Our house is for sale! Tell your friends! Tell your wife!  Buy our house!&lt;br /&gt;http://www.12619giantsheadroad.blogspot.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-1397868260683041002?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/1397868260683041002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=1397868260683041002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1397868260683041002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1397868260683041002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2010/02/our-house-is-for-sale.html' title='Our house is for sale!'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-191627658852143340</id><published>2010-02-21T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T21:25:36.342-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Perfect evening</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IVSymEHPI/AAAAAAAAANA/I6UcudjwLns/s1600-h/IMG_0161.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IVSymEHPI/AAAAAAAAANA/I6UcudjwLns/s400/IMG_0161.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440934712380234994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IVOj-5-EI/AAAAAAAAAM4/NYd6vK91lik/s1600-h/IMG_0157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IVOj-5-EI/AAAAAAAAAM4/NYd6vK91lik/s400/IMG_0157.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440934639738419266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4ISyXqs9eI/AAAAAAAAAMw/iLuUvBjoNiU/s1600-h/IMG_0215+%281%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4ISyXqs9eI/AAAAAAAAAMw/iLuUvBjoNiU/s400/IMG_0215+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440931956372862434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IStADwA-I/AAAAAAAAAMo/tjjm_5_Dec4/s1600-h/IMG_0212.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 319px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IStADwA-I/AAAAAAAAAMo/tjjm_5_Dec4/s400/IMG_0212.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440931864136123362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4ISnkqZbqI/AAAAAAAAAMg/nvuzlcLQnQc/s1600-h/IMG_0211.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4ISnkqZbqI/AAAAAAAAAMg/nvuzlcLQnQc/s400/IMG_0211.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440931770882682530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IShsvdNGI/AAAAAAAAAMY/8gI7r-FW0Ro/s1600-h/IMG_0205.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IShsvdNGI/AAAAAAAAAMY/8gI7r-FW0Ro/s400/IMG_0205.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440931669972169826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IScCbJyvI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/Q91nPQc1dgI/s1600-h/IMG_0185.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 321px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IScCbJyvI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/Q91nPQc1dgI/s400/IMG_0185.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440931572713376498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4ISWLM8WbI/AAAAAAAAAMI/Fsz0P7WWneU/s1600-h/IMG_0176.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4ISWLM8WbI/AAAAAAAAAMI/Fsz0P7WWneU/s400/IMG_0176.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440931471990479282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4ISPdpMSSI/AAAAAAAAAMA/fh26qRL9AW4/s1600-h/IMG_0173+%281%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4ISPdpMSSI/AAAAAAAAAMA/fh26qRL9AW4/s400/IMG_0173+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440931356681718050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every once in a blue moon comes a perfect evening - where food, drink and conversation blend to form an amazing experience where we all have a chance to get to know one another better. Here's to good evenings with friends and family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-191627658852143340?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/191627658852143340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=191627658852143340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/191627658852143340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/191627658852143340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2010/02/perfect-evening.html' title='A Perfect evening'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/S4IVSymEHPI/AAAAAAAAANA/I6UcudjwLns/s72-c/IMG_0161.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-8847295689856010198</id><published>2010-01-01T19:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T20:25:36.551-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections on Failure</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sz69cErgETI/AAAAAAAAALE/lKPIuwK4buc/s1600-h/IMG_9769.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sz69cErgETI/AAAAAAAAALE/lKPIuwK4buc/s400/IMG_9769.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421979291390841138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is not meant to be one of those New Year's Resolutions posts. Rather, I prefer to sit and reflect on how I've done during the last year, and how I can make meaningful, long term improvements in my life. As many of you know, one of my goals in life is to be a great photographer. To this end, I promote myself when I can, and I throw myself completely into anything that I do. Knowing that, I choose not to shoot weddings.  They're just not my style, and nothing more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I do enjoy shooting commercial, and shooting editorial.  I enjoy the challenge of lighting, the connection with my subject, and the look of the finished work. I get a deep sense of satisfaction when a final image I've envisioned becomes real, and I strive to create that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I mentioned earlier, I like to sit and reflect on the year gone by, and see where I can do better.  And this year, I saw how I could have been a better photographer - not in technique, or lighting, or subject - but in marketing.  In sales, there is a phrase called "the Silver Platter." The theory behind that is that it takes on average, 5 calls to a client to make a sale.  Most sales professionals make 4 calls, then conclude the buyer isn't interested, and walk away. The next person that walks by and says "Do ya wanna buy one?" gets the sale, and the original salesperson wonders why nobody wants his product. This has happened to me several times, and indeed, just recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the coming year, I intend to become better at showing my work, and to be persistent in calling clients. It does no one a service when I hold back and doubt what I can do, and someone less talented does the work. Ah, but there's the rub: confidence isn't something on sale in aisle 3.  How do I promote myself in such a way that doesn't come across as arrogant, but talented instead? How do I handle myself in such a way that a client knows I will photograph his product as I would my own baby? How do I communicate to people the belief in what I do? I don't need a course in photography - I need a course in marketing.  2010 will be the year I learn to market myself more effectively.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-8847295689856010198?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/8847295689856010198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=8847295689856010198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/8847295689856010198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/8847295689856010198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2010/01/reflections-on-failure.html' title='Reflections on Failure'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sz69cErgETI/AAAAAAAAALE/lKPIuwK4buc/s72-c/IMG_9769.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-1247011385348815250</id><published>2009-11-06T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T21:26:25.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I missed your call...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvUEaKTBZ0I/AAAAAAAAAK4/U7NTA_-Q5p4/s1600-h/Evan+6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvUEaKTBZ0I/AAAAAAAAAK4/U7NTA_-Q5p4/s400/Evan+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401228175588026178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you waiting for a phone call, this will have to do. I cannot speak on the telephone anymore, as I can't stand losing my voice to choking up. As much as I would want to phone you, please accept this instead. Justin, Shawna, Bree, Jenn, Bubsie, Carl &amp;amp; Naomi, Tom &amp;amp; Lynn, Gaia &amp;amp; Remy, Guido, Egon, Joost, Marius, Merelyn, Estelle, Oma, John and Doris, Jon Izzard, Tim, Mike, Stephen, Carol, Diane, Elaine, Tannis &amp;amp; Paul, Gener &amp;amp; Korol, Jill &amp;amp; Boris, Jason, Peter, Ginger, Reg and Lou, Lark, Dennis &amp;amp; Lara, Lee, Sensei Bill, Rene, Barb, Estelle,  Slawek, Robin, Vic, Del, Larry, Don, Kari, Amy, Levi, Murray &amp;amp; Natalie, Adrian &amp;amp; Sarah, Pat &amp;amp; Sayeed,  Art &amp;amp; Myra, Beth, Alethea, Maureen, Clint, I would love to phone you personally, but I can't. I can't talk about what a change this is, about how different things are, how profound the changes life takes once you look down at a child you created.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe in the next couple of weeks, I might be able to call. Until then, know that I was thinking of you, just couldn't speak, that's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-1247011385348815250?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/1247011385348815250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=1247011385348815250' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1247011385348815250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1247011385348815250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-missed-your-call.html' title='I missed your call...'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvUEaKTBZ0I/AAAAAAAAAK4/U7NTA_-Q5p4/s72-c/Evan+6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-2748290285667519298</id><published>2009-11-06T11:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T11:50:49.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR9rMU7M8I/AAAAAAAAAKw/2kY6dGY0IVs/s1600-h/Evan+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR9rMU7M8I/AAAAAAAAAKw/2kY6dGY0IVs/s400/Evan+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401080034120905666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR9q1i-NqI/AAAAAAAAAKo/tOCLqLXjxzg/s1600-h/Evan+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR9q1i-NqI/AAAAAAAAAKo/tOCLqLXjxzg/s400/Evan+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401080028005807778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR9qv5P5GI/AAAAAAAAAKg/TXilep0_LIA/s1600-h/Evan+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR9qv5P5GI/AAAAAAAAAKg/TXilep0_LIA/s400/Evan+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401080026488628322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR9bhqtu1I/AAAAAAAAAKY/l7NGbLnmlyk/s1600-h/Evan+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR9bhqtu1I/AAAAAAAAAKY/l7NGbLnmlyk/s400/Evan+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401079764971535186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR3f15CQaI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/K0OfzxpzkLA/s1600-h/Evan+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR3f15CQaI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/K0OfzxpzkLA/s400/Evan+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401073242050019746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our son Evan was born today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to describe the birth of a child, to someone who has never seen it? How to describe the emotional cataclysm that is childbirth, when all you can use is English?  I thought a wedding was intense, but I had words for that.  This, this is different. I have no words that would effectively describe what has happened in the last 2 days, and so I leave the dear reader with some of the images I captured yesterday, and the day before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our son is happy, healthy, and was born with hair. We are very pleased, and relieved that 28 hours of labour are over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kees &amp;amp; Tania&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-2748290285667519298?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/2748290285667519298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=2748290285667519298' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/2748290285667519298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/2748290285667519298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/11/our-son-evan-was-born-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SvR9rMU7M8I/AAAAAAAAAKw/2kY6dGY0IVs/s72-c/Evan+4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-7374584052925851735</id><published>2009-10-10T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T22:04:25.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You can't go back.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/StFmfL6njHI/AAAAAAAAAJA/cFnnXqVQLZU/s1600-h/uncertainty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/StFmfL6njHI/AAAAAAAAAJA/cFnnXqVQLZU/s400/uncertainty.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391202914899823730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I was thinking about progress today. As much as I would like the world to stay as it is, to pause while I live my life in a nice, comfortable pocket, life isn't like that. It never has been. Like an ebbing tide, the world changes in infinitesimal ways, some cataclysmic, and some not, but it is swirls and swishes and flows. And those that choose to ignore it are doomed, because they go against nature.  When I reflect back upon the irresistable forces moving forward, I stand in the way of a tsunami.  And as Tom Cochrane said, in between ten glorious minutes of guitar solos, "You can't turn back".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever try to go back to an ex-girlfriend, or an old job? Ever try to move back to an old town where you had grown up? How did that feel? I'll bet it felt like climbing up a sewer pipe that was emptying into a treatment plant. You're fighting against the flow, instead of moving with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what does that mean? The road to failure leads back the way you came, but where does the road to success lead? For millenia, mankind has looked to mythology for answers, and more importantly, for inspiration.  Study the myth of the hero, and you find someone moving forth, encountering adversity, but always advancing.  The hero never goes back to his old life as a shepherd or farm hand; he has outgrown that life.   And by the same token, someone who stays in one place, doing the same thing they've always done, eventually becomes an object of ridicule because the world understands that people have to advance, to grow, to fulfill their destiny. A twenty-something looks different sitting in a club than a thirty-something does, in a sinister sort of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see this in my art; when I choose to photograph someone in a safe way, in a way I've always done, I move backwards, not forward. It is only when I can face my fears, to advance in the face of critisism or scorn, that I become greater. It is then that I dip deep into the well that is my soul and bring forth what I could be.  The critic lives in situations like those, but so does progress.  Honestly, I can say that I am mired in the mundane now; it has been months since I felt the thrill of doing something new, or of giving myself permission to fail, in pursuit of success. I feel myself slipping downhill, in my courage and my skills, which are slowly rusting from disuse. It is safer not to try than to muddle around, looking for creativity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move forward, always. And if not forward, move laterally; it will feel better than standing still. And if God has led you to the mountain to teach you, don't insult Him by walking down to the valley. Instead, look around, and be open.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-7374584052925851735?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/7374584052925851735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=7374584052925851735' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7374584052925851735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7374584052925851735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-cant-go-back.html' title='You can&apos;t go back.'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/StFmfL6njHI/AAAAAAAAAJA/cFnnXqVQLZU/s72-c/uncertainty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-1895225265609349399</id><published>2009-06-04T12:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T12:10:13.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maternity shoot!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sigb_BPCHtI/AAAAAAAAAIw/qgpfHdDjBNw/s1600-h/IMG_8908.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sigb_BPCHtI/AAAAAAAAAIw/qgpfHdDjBNw/s400/IMG_8908.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343551727352291026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sigb_JWbMOI/AAAAAAAAAI4/_YZYF5lN3RE/s1600-h/tania+8930.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sigb_JWbMOI/AAAAAAAAAI4/_YZYF5lN3RE/s400/tania+8930.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343551729530777826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tania and I did our first maternity shoot today; I'm still getting the hang of it, but I think it went well! Love to hear the comments!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-1895225265609349399?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/1895225265609349399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=1895225265609349399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1895225265609349399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1895225265609349399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/06/maternity-shoot.html' title='Maternity shoot!'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sigb_BPCHtI/AAAAAAAAAIw/qgpfHdDjBNw/s72-c/IMG_8908.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-6070149775142726869</id><published>2009-05-31T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T10:19:24.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Signs are All Around Us...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SiK7KBS-vOI/AAAAAAAAAIo/pH_yfP9agHA/s1600-h/IMG_1300.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SiK7KBS-vOI/AAAAAAAAAIo/pH_yfP9agHA/s400/IMG_1300.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342037888835960034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a mystical day for me.  In preparation for teaching a workshop at the Summerland Art Gallery, I chose a favorite copy of Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist as a door prize - a 10th Anniversary edition, in hardcover. Has nothing to do with photography, per se, but everything to do with life, living and pursuing your dreams, and inspiration. During the workshop, we had a wonderful discussion about Paulo Coelho, and I started to muse about omens.  An omen is a sign; they tell us when we are on track, and when we are not. Like the proverbial dandilion seeds, when we look at the omens scattered through our lives, we can see whether we are pursuing our dreams, or fleeing them.  Having been in full retreat from my dreams in the past, I looked with new wonder at the signs that my dreams are starting to flourish now. I was content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The workshop went better than expected, and I really felt that I helped everyone understand the basics of digital photography a little better. A day like yesterday helped me to remember that I am moving towards my goals, and they are attainable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-6070149775142726869?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/6070149775142726869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=6070149775142726869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/6070149775142726869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/6070149775142726869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/05/signs-are-all-around-us.html' title='The Signs are All Around Us...'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SiK7KBS-vOI/AAAAAAAAAIo/pH_yfP9agHA/s72-c/IMG_1300.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-7260458405645582023</id><published>2009-05-18T06:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T07:03:08.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversaries</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/ShFpz1t2fCI/AAAAAAAAAIg/qCjquGqT1A4/s1600-h/ducks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/ShFpz1t2fCI/AAAAAAAAAIg/qCjquGqT1A4/s400/ducks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337163372724386850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I celebrated one year with my beautiful bride Tania. We celebrated by eating at a restaurant on the lake, literally on the water, at Okanagan Lake. It was warm enough we could eat outside, listening to the waves, and the occasional boat drive by. It was a perfect evening, and a perfect way to celebrate two soulmates being together.  Here's to another 25 years of bliss!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-7260458405645582023?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/7260458405645582023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=7260458405645582023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7260458405645582023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7260458405645582023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/05/anniversaries.html' title='Anniversaries'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/ShFpz1t2fCI/AAAAAAAAAIg/qCjquGqT1A4/s72-c/ducks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-2362379294106016949</id><published>2009-04-09T05:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T07:09:40.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hannah Jongenelen, 1945 - 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd4BeT1jsPI/AAAAAAAAAIY/3q6x9bo16gY/s1600-h/Gaia+wedding83.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd4BeT1jsPI/AAAAAAAAAIY/3q6x9bo16gY/s400/Gaia+wedding83.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322693429831119090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd4BWeMsYII/AAAAAAAAAIQ/wk04Sqh0QU0/s1600-h/Gaia+wedding12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd4BWeMsYII/AAAAAAAAAIQ/wk04Sqh0QU0/s400/Gaia+wedding12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322693295173558402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd4A3hYMHJI/AAAAAAAAAII/S1NLv_2xA5s/s1600-h/IMG_6997.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd4A3hYMHJI/AAAAAAAAAII/S1NLv_2xA5s/s400/IMG_6997.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322692763451137170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd37BkH6DeI/AAAAAAAAAIA/k7DG7ciHpDs/s1600-h/CRW_0407.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd37BkH6DeI/AAAAAAAAAIA/k7DG7ciHpDs/s400/CRW_0407.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322686338917076450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd37BZ3HO7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/ycH1X6n6dXc/s1600-h/Gaia+wedding156.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd37BZ3HO7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/ycH1X6n6dXc/s400/Gaia+wedding156.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322686336162282418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd34JK8GchI/AAAAAAAAAHo/-Q9fUEOpDNA/s1600-h/IMG_3020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd34JK8GchI/AAAAAAAAAHo/-Q9fUEOpDNA/s400/IMG_3020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322683171060740626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd34Ip0hNPI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/8KcnUVBkWBo/s1600-h/Gaia+wedding16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd34Ip0hNPI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/8KcnUVBkWBo/s400/Gaia+wedding16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322683162170569970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I would like to tell the dear readers about Hannah Jongenelen, my stepmother, who passed away on Thursday after a courageous struggle with cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah was one of the most vibrant, strongly optimistic, and independent people I have known.  She raised 3 beautiful children on her own, in a time when that just wasn't done. She instilled in them the quality of her character that made them who they are. She was fiercely creative, and her house was filled with color, and with art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah had an indomitable spirit that inspired the people around her. She made friends easily and quickly, and had a genuine interest in others. Everyone I know who knew her respected her. She accepted me as her 4th child, and we got along very well. She was not afraid to tell me when I was wrong, and also to tell me when I was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I credit Hannah for bringing my dad and I closer together. When they were dating, she asked him many questions about his life, and his family, and he realized that he didn't really know that much about me. Since then, we have made efforts to get to know one another better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were only two people present when my dad and Hannah were married; myself and her son Guido. Hannah loved Canada, and its wide open spaces; she loved travelling through Jasper National Park, and up to Alaska. She also loved Holland, and enjoyed showing my wife and I the most beautiful parts of Maastricht. She encouraged us to see the city as the locals do, not as tourists but as travellers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, Hannah was an embodiment of that creativity that speaks to those who have the courage to look for it. She was not afraid to say, "This is who I am!" and she lived her life accordingly. She was genuine in all that she did. And I feel richer for having known her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-2362379294106016949?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/2362379294106016949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=2362379294106016949' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/2362379294106016949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/2362379294106016949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/04/hannah-jongenelen-1945-2009.html' title='Hannah Jongenelen, 1945 - 2009'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/Sd4BeT1jsPI/AAAAAAAAAIY/3q6x9bo16gY/s72-c/Gaia+wedding83.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-1320666089960884754</id><published>2009-02-14T08:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T08:30:26.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind." - Shakespeare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SZbwurFT1vI/AAAAAAAAAGU/Fjlarc16SYc/s1600-h/IMG_0594+small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SZbwurFT1vI/AAAAAAAAAGU/Fjlarc16SYc/s400/IMG_0594+small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302690295904982770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SZbwjIZ8sNI/AAAAAAAAAGM/ADUFXpjrejk/s1600-h/cold+nights.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SZbwjIZ8sNI/AAAAAAAAAGM/ADUFXpjrejk/s400/cold+nights.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302690097617744082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, on Single's Awareness Day, I wish to reflect on my wife Tania. Since meeting her 3 1/2 years ago, my life has changed completely, and for the better. She has an amazing presence, and this is known to all who know her. I consider myself to be very, very fortunate to have married her, for she inspires me in so many ways, I can't count.  Here's to Tania!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether or not you celebrate Valentine's Day, and all the Hallmark connotations it entails, take some time today to recognize someone you know; acknowledge the effect they've had in your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-1320666089960884754?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/1320666089960884754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=1320666089960884754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1320666089960884754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1320666089960884754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-looks-not-with-eyes-but-with-mind.html' title='&quot;Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind.&quot; - Shakespeare'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SZbwurFT1vI/AAAAAAAAAGU/Fjlarc16SYc/s72-c/IMG_0594+small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-3875695843287741185</id><published>2009-02-01T11:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T12:34:06.054-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abby'/><title type='text'>Back to basics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SYYCQU4DpSI/AAAAAAAAAF0/23LqxQP8Avw/s1600-h/IMG_7115.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 321px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SYYCQU4DpSI/AAAAAAAAAF0/23LqxQP8Avw/s400/IMG_7115.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297924491152958754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SYYB9c8nQKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/XVW2JEFN9RQ/s1600-h/IMG_7126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SYYB9c8nQKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/XVW2JEFN9RQ/s400/IMG_7126.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297924166902038690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SYYB9JHwhtI/AAAAAAAAAFU/0IWAG9rIo34/s1600-h/IMG_7130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SYYB9JHwhtI/AAAAAAAAAFU/0IWAG9rIo34/s400/IMG_7130.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297924161580074706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A few images of Abby for your enjoyment, dear reader. If you're interested, these were taken with my favorite lens, my trusty 50mm f/1.8 Canon. Such a versatile lens, it is a mystery to me why more people don't use it, and more importantly, why more people don't recognize its value.  I prefer this fast, crisp, sharp lens with its inexpensive build quality than a sluggish zoom with more range and $600 more money any day. If you don't have one already, it's not too late. Go to the store!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-3875695843287741185?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/3875695843287741185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=3875695843287741185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/3875695843287741185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/3875695843287741185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/02/back-to-basics.html' title='Back to basics'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SYYCQU4DpSI/AAAAAAAAAF0/23LqxQP8Avw/s72-c/IMG_7115.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-236330536939567514</id><published>2009-01-17T10:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T10:29:29.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A profound thought</title><content type='html'>I read a profound thought yesterday, from Paulo Coelho's excellent blog. I encourage you to visit his site, www.paulocoelhoblog.com, but if you don't, here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="entry-content"&gt;     &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A reader asked:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We know your messages from your books, but can you summarize with your own words, what’s are the most important things of a human life ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Not to be paralysed by fear in the path of our dreams.&lt;/p&gt;         &lt;/div&gt;That is the key, isn't it? I know that my lack of successes are not a result of trial and failure, but paralysis. We are inspired by bold action; our movie heroes and their fearless adventures through trials that would freeze most of us like a rabbit with its ears back. We are inspired, but do we move? Do we leave the theatre thinking, I will ask for a raise (or quit my job); I will apply for that transfer; I will ask for extra sauce on my burger; I will ask that girl out (or to marry me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is my question to you: Do you ask? Or do you slide back into the wagon rut and wait for the sequel? What inspires you to take action?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-236330536939567514?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/236330536939567514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=236330536939567514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/236330536939567514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/236330536939567514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/01/profound-thought.html' title='A profound thought'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-4094361819496283857</id><published>2009-01-14T12:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T13:22:43.584-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gratitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natural beauty'/><title type='text'>Paradise found.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WgTOAsQI/AAAAAAAAAFE/wWyWvvP7dDM/s1600-h/Giants+head+fog+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WgTOAsQI/AAAAAAAAAFE/wWyWvvP7dDM/s400/Giants+head+fog+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291261725121753346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WgBBI3HI/AAAAAAAAAE8/aFJD_C9Dj78/s1600-h/Giants+head+fog+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WgBBI3HI/AAAAAAAAAE8/aFJD_C9Dj78/s400/Giants+head+fog+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291261720235924594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WfkWgpCI/AAAAAAAAAE0/ba2-Q0__PdQ/s1600-h/Giants+head+fog+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WfkWgpCI/AAAAAAAAAE0/ba2-Q0__PdQ/s400/Giants+head+fog+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291261712540935202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WfZtPvDI/AAAAAAAAAEs/7iVLJovVlXk/s1600-h/Giants+head+fog+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WfZtPvDI/AAAAAAAAAEs/7iVLJovVlXk/s400/Giants+head+fog+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291261709683506226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WfLqIRUI/AAAAAAAAAEk/m_S5BUiIMac/s1600-h/Giants+head+fog+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WfLqIRUI/AAAAAAAAAEk/m_S5BUiIMac/s400/Giants+head+fog+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291261705912337730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I forget that Summerland is an area so breathtakingly beautiful that people from around the world come to visit. Other times, I remember. All of these images were taken within a five minute drive from my house, this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Okanagan is a playground year-round, not just during the summer months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-4094361819496283857?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/4094361819496283857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=4094361819496283857' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/4094361819496283857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/4094361819496283857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/01/paradise-found.html' title='Paradise found.'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SW5WgTOAsQI/AAAAAAAAAFE/wWyWvvP7dDM/s72-c/Giants+head+fog+5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-3929769363600702677</id><published>2009-01-11T07:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T10:26:30.100-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='understanding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='to be of service'/><title type='text'>A Tale of Understanding</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SWo5ss2XAXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/HOiWYjel7gI/s1600-h/gods+country.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SWo5ss2XAXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/HOiWYjel7gI/s400/gods+country.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290104152416256370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mechanic was driving outside a small village when he came up on a man parked on the side of the road, looking into a field.  From his clothing, the mechanic knew that he wasn't from the village, and he pulled over to see if he could help. He got out of his car and by the time he got to the man, he knew what was wrong. He must have a broken fan belt! Why else would someone be parked there? Excitedly, he told the man how to change the fan belt; what nuts to loosen, how to stretch the new belt when he put it on, and how to remove the old belt, but the man just smiled and said nothing. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A farmer was walking up the road, and he asked what the problem was. The mechanic told the farmer that his car was broken, that the fan belt was broken, and that the man was refusing to change it. The farmer looked at the man and thought, it's not his fan belt, he's wishing he had a horse, and excitedly he began to tell the man about his horse for sale, how high it stood, how it rode through the tall grass, how it liked to eat carrots with its lips, and how it could pull a cart. The man smiled and said nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A realtor saw the men standing there, and thought Fantastic! Someone wants to buy the property I have listed! So he came up to the man and began talking louder than the mechanic and the farmer, describing the property, how many bedrooms were on the main floor, how the deer grazed in the front yard, and how quiet the neighbors were in the evenings. The man just smiled and said nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A doctor saw the people gathering and thought, someone must be hurt. So he ran over and saw everyone gathered talking about the man, and said Stand back! This man needs medicine! He has a headache, and that is why he is parked here! And he ripped out his doctor's kit and gave him a bottle of pills. The man smiled and said nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A sage was walking down the road when he saw a crowd gathering around a man, parked just past a bridge. From where he stood, he could see that underneath the bridge, two boys were running back to the car, holding a big fish. The two boys came back to the car and showed the man the fish, babbling excitedly in a foreign language. The man exclaimed something back, smiled and put the fish and the boy's fishing rods in the trunk, and drove off with the two boys, leaving the townspeople standing there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The moral of the story is that until you understand the situation, you cannot help, and by trying to help without knowing, you look like a fool.  Perhaps you know someone out of work in the Great Depression of 2009. Before offering wisdom on how to fix their situation, ask them how they are doing. An age old adage, Seek first to understand, then to be understood, applies here. It is wonderful to point out that bills need to be paid, and that the person has a mortgage swinging around their neck like an albatross, but the chances are that the person already knows that. It is wonderful to suggest that someone you know is working at two dead-end jobs to make ends meet, and that the person should go out and do that, but the person may have already been applying to dozens of jobs and had no calls back. It is wonderful to tell someone to work as a janitor or at the coffee shop for twelve hours per week instead of following their own well-thought out plan for getting back on  track, but before you do that, ask how things are going, and listen to the answer. If you want to help someone, asking "How can I be of service?" goes much further than mindlessly bleating like a frightened goat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-3929769363600702677?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/3929769363600702677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=3929769363600702677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/3929769363600702677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/3929769363600702677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/01/mechanic-was-driving-outside-small.html' title='A Tale of Understanding'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SWo5ss2XAXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/HOiWYjel7gI/s72-c/gods+country.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-4908258378599477235</id><published>2009-01-01T17:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T18:39:31.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A few thoughts about Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-Q5JnEBI/AAAAAAAAAEU/MAzX4pZU6jI/s1600-h/IMG_6532.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-Q5JnEBI/AAAAAAAAAEU/MAzX4pZU6jI/s400/IMG_6532.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286520366286966802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-QX_YRdI/AAAAAAAAAEM/IN7O-VkxqGo/s1600-h/IMG_6518.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-QX_YRdI/AAAAAAAAAEM/IN7O-VkxqGo/s400/IMG_6518.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286520357385684434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-QAyWBFI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3h4cl98hNhs/s1600-h/IMG_6493.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-QAyWBFI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3h4cl98hNhs/s400/IMG_6493.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286520351156995154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-PUjz08I/AAAAAAAAAD8/vYPB6xC1HM8/s1600-h/IMG_6604.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-PUjz08I/AAAAAAAAAD8/vYPB6xC1HM8/s400/IMG_6604.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286520339284874178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-O_YwkWI/AAAAAAAAAD0/2MSb5Avvgc8/s1600-h/IMG_6548.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-O_YwkWI/AAAAAAAAAD0/2MSb5Avvgc8/s400/IMG_6548.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286520333601378658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello all,&lt;br /&gt;Well, Christmas is come and gone, and I now have time to work on images from the holidays. Apart from not working, it was a good Christmas, and the first Christmas as a married couple. To enhance the experience, Tania and I invited the relatives over for a big dinner on Boxing Day.  Sadly, there were no photographs of this momentous occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have included some of our favorites for your enjoyment! Merry Christmas, and may your 2009 be blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-4908258378599477235?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/4908258378599477235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=4908258378599477235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/4908258378599477235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/4908258378599477235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2009/01/few-thoughts-about-christmas.html' title='A few thoughts about Christmas'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SV1-Q5JnEBI/AAAAAAAAAEU/MAzX4pZU6jI/s72-c/IMG_6532.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-7437385484610889537</id><published>2008-12-27T09:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T11:38:47.289-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goal setting'/><title type='text'>Considering goals</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SVaEMai1KsI/AAAAAAAAADo/9njDIBoRfi4/s1600-h/considerations.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SVaEMai1KsI/AAAAAAAAADo/9njDIBoRfi4/s400/considerations.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284556561584564930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much has happened, and yet nothing has changed.  I just noticed that my blog has not been updated since November, and that is a sin.  How can I hope to keep my audience above 50,000 avid readers if I let things slide?  For that, I apologize, dear readers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December has been eventful, as I am certain that all of you can also say. I took an insurance course in Vancouver and received the highest mark in the class, 91%. On the first day Edith Strauss, the instructor, asked us to write down what mark we expected to get in the class. By stating our expectations in a clear, positive way, we exponentially increase our chances of achieving them. I wrote 95%, as I felt that was a believable level to aim for. Many people in the class didn't write anything down, and coincidentally, many people did not pass the course either. I don't remember which people failed or passed, but I believe that those who took action in the direction of their goals were the ones who passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having goals are a fantastic way to shape our lives, to enrich our existence, and to squeeze more out of the marrow of life. Clearly stated goals give us a framework to see where we want to go, or what we want to do. But they are just a map; without the action of getting into the car and following the map, we remain suctioned to our easy chair, dreaming of what might be. Having said this, when I look back at my own existence, I am guilty of drawing many maps from the comfort of my own Lazy-boy, and not going outside to pursue them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, I intend to reread some of the classics from my library: Think and Grow Rich, by Napoleon Hill; The Magic of Thinking Big, by David Schwartz; Cashflow Quadrant, by Robert Kiyosaki; The 4 Hour Workweek, by Tim Ferriss; the Power of Intention, by Dr Wayne Dyer; and Awaken the Giant Within, by Anthony Robbins.  I'm open to suggestions too, so if anyone knows of a book that I just cannot live without, feel free to leave a comment below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The image above was taken in Vancouver, during a break in the course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I will be revisiting this topic in the next few posts, so if this interests you, stay tuned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-7437385484610889537?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/7437385484610889537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=7437385484610889537' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7437385484610889537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7437385484610889537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/12/considering-goals.html' title='Considering goals'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SVaEMai1KsI/AAAAAAAAADo/9njDIBoRfi4/s72-c/considerations.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-5069118549077845320</id><published>2008-11-27T20:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T21:33:57.071-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Optimism'/><title type='text'>Being optimistic in today's economy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SS-BGGQff5I/AAAAAAAAADg/R2PU2yD4X9M/s1600-h/Dogs+waiting+%281%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SS-BGGQff5I/AAAAAAAAADg/R2PU2yD4X9M/s400/Dogs+waiting+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273575630433124242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I took Abby for a walk. Not a long walk, nor the short, "fake" walk when I just need to check the mail, but an average walk.  I was struck by how happy Abby was, sniffing all the posts, rocks and checking the Pmail. Sometimes, we as individuals need to check our ego at the door, and say, It is enough.  It is enough to go for a walk and be happy. It is enough to listen to a piece of music and be moved by it. It is enough to....(fill in the blank) but the key is to be content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how to be optimistic in these times? Every time I login to CNN, or CBC News, I read about tragedy, or recession, or falling housing prices. I know that these organizations exist to crow pessimism from the rooftops, but like driving past an accident, I still look. How do I stay optimistic when I am looking for work today? When a part-time secretarial job posting can harvest 90 resumes? Am I deluding myself by trying to be optimistic? Is it as bad as they say? I struggle almost daily with that question, and tonight, Abby showed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to see the silver lining when I look at something. When I hear that house prices are down, and that it's a buyers market, I try to look further to see the truth. Yes, prices are down, but not across the board. Some neighborhoods are down, but others are up, and those don't get reported. I'm looking for work, in a bad time to be looking for work. All the signs in the Okanagan are pointing to a long drought economically, but is that true? Or is that what I've been seeing because I've focused on that? So much of what we do is based in fear, fear of losing something, fear of something bad happening, it is good to catch ourselves being fearful and to say, "Is that true? Or is that what I've focused on?" If the reality that we live in doesn't suit you, then &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;change it&lt;/span&gt;. Change your description of an event, or focus on something else. I admire those that can do that easily; my natural lack of tact usually has me blurting out something that could have been better phrased. But if you practice looking up, you'll see the sun shining sooner than if you're studying your navel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abby could have set out on our walk, grumbling because it was too dark to see many things, or too cold to want to go longer, or that she hadn't finished her unauthorized nap on my pillow. But in a dog's world, a walk is something to be enjoyed, and so she left the grumbling at home when we left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I've decided to be optimistic for just a little bit longer.  I choose to look for the sunshine, rather than the clouds. I choose to believe there is work out there, and that "My business will assume VAST proportions". That was an actual fortune cookie I got last week, and I saved it. And at the end of the day, if I was wrong, I haven't lost anything by being positive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-5069118549077845320?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/5069118549077845320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=5069118549077845320' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/5069118549077845320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/5069118549077845320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/11/being-optimistic-in-todays-economy.html' title='Being optimistic in today&apos;s economy'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SS-BGGQff5I/AAAAAAAAADg/R2PU2yD4X9M/s72-c/Dogs+waiting+%281%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-1779032462160132612</id><published>2008-11-18T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T20:44:51.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspiration</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SSOS-j2KP8I/AAAAAAAAADY/LlTpRm3bAd0/s1600-h/abby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SSOS-j2KP8I/AAAAAAAAADY/LlTpRm3bAd0/s400/abby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270217592425562050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Patanjali&lt;/span&gt; was an Indian mystic who wrote the Yoga &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sutras&lt;/span&gt; over 2,000 years ago. Over the eons, many have believed this man to be a saint, and he is considered as important in Eastern tradition as Aristotle would be in the West. I recently read a passage that he wrote, regarding Inspiration:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds, your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great, and wonderful world. Dormant forces, faculties, and talents become alive, and you discover yourself to be a greater person by far than you ever dreamed yourself to be."*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is easily one of the most profound statements I have read in my life, and I would suggest that it is even more applicable today, than it was 2,300 years ago when he conceived it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I consider this in terms of my own small existence, I can reverse a bad mood or turn a good day great by the simple act of creation.  Whether it be going for a coffee and sketching ideas on a napkin, discussing a killer idea for a series of portraits, imagining a home built from shipping containers, or developing a black and white print in a darkroom, that act of creation makes my heart sing.  I feel powerful, imaginative, and I feel the self imposed limits that my ego has shackled me with slipping away. I feel connected to my destiny, and certain that I am on the right track. I feel determined, and absolutely sure footed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that to be inspired is to become closer to God. Our goal in this life should be to delve deep and to discover what it is that inspires us to create, and to pursue that. To find what it is that keeps you going long after the other employees have left for the day, or what it is that wakes you up at 4 am to start working on. This is different than motivation; I can be motivated to go to work at 4am because I'm in debt, but I may or may not be inspired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have become inspired recently to create a series of portraits. I am beginning a series of images of people who have walked away from a job, and become successful at what they love to do. I'm in the conceptual stage of this series, and I hope to begin it soon. I've had this in my mind for years; the first time I began, I realized to my dismay that at that time, I didn't have the skills to do it justice, and I shelved the project. In hindsight, a better alternative would have been to attack the project and learn on the fly, but everything happens in this world for a reason, and now is the time to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What inspires you? How do you know when you are on the right path? What does it feel like to you? What do you create, and how do you feel when you have created? I've corrected the comments section to make it easier to post; feel free to drop me a comment if what I've written inspires you....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The images above are of Abby, just being inspired to be Abby.&lt;br /&gt;- Kees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* From the book "Inspiration: Your ultimate Calling" by Dr. Wayne Dyer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-1779032462160132612?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/1779032462160132612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=1779032462160132612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1779032462160132612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1779032462160132612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/11/inspiration.html' title='Inspiration'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SSOS-j2KP8I/AAAAAAAAADY/LlTpRm3bAd0/s72-c/abby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-7062996675046422071</id><published>2008-10-29T20:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T13:57:34.830-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grouse Grind'/><title type='text'>Exorcising Ego</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SQkvlTj0BiI/AAAAAAAAADQ/WAmdc0KFoyo/s1600-h/IMG_0786.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SQkvlTj0BiI/AAAAAAAAADQ/WAmdc0KFoyo/s320/IMG_0786.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262789957511284258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SQkvlNuvdeI/AAAAAAAAADI/c8ACR3tNzAw/s1600-h/IMG_0802.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SQkvlNuvdeI/AAAAAAAAADI/c8ACR3tNzAw/s320/IMG_0802.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262789955946509794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been blogging as much as I'd like lately, mainly because I haven't felt that my thoughts were worthy of publishing lately. That, and there is a black hole where Wi-Fi goes to die at my mom's house. Among the many positive traits I am developing, I regard ego-busting to be high on my list, as I believe ego gets in the way of living a humble existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story began last spring, when Carl and I were discussing the Grouse Grind.  Not hearing the warnings of the story, I decided that I too would like to be one of the proud, the elite, the few survivors to climb to the summit (or at least to the pub) of Grouse Mountain. The warnings were many, and involved pointing out the level of shape a person should be in, but I didn't hear those. I'm in good shape, I thought; hamburgers create fuel that I can use to climb easily to the top. Maybe I can even do it in under an hour!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finding myself in Vancouver last weekend, I decided to phone Carl and see if we could go.  As luck would have it, he was available last weekend (he'll be busier this weekend, but that is for another post) and off we went. As we left the parking lot, I still maintained a vision of reaching the top in under an hour, and having enough breath to converse about it. As we began a steep section, Carl was explaining that on flat sections like these, he usually attacked it to make good time.  Wait, what? I wanted to ask him what he meant, but the air is really thin at Grouse Mountain, and I was having trouble disguising my gasping wheeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I soon discovered that he was right, but I was still enjoying myself, although the forest seemed very damp, the kind that soaked through clothes and plastered my hair to my forehead. We must have climbed an awful long ways up, as I was still finding the air "thin".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the halfway mark, I abandoned all hope for a one hour time, as we had already passed that. My gasping wheeze had become like a donkey braying, and I stood out against the granola munching mountain goats like Rita MacNeil at a yoga class. I valiantly struggled on against the thin air and my increasingly heavy shoes.  After what seemed an eternity, I saw the halfway mark, and through the pounding drumbeat in my ears, I heard Carl explaining that meant altitude, not distance. That meant it was getting steeper, if that were possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I soon realized that it was possible, as I labored on hands and knees up the scree.  The trail resembled the stairwell Frodo &amp;amp; Sam climbed on their way to Mordor, right before they met Shelob the giant spider.  Carl bounded on ahead, taking photos, admiring the view, and generally enjoying the afternoon, and I laboured under the weight of a thousand hamburgers.  At long last, we reached the summit, and had some sandwiches. At this point, it is critical to rehydrate the body to prevent any damage from dehydration, and a hefenwiesen worked quite well in that regard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a long post, but the point of the story is this: life is made up of moments that we remember, and when we look back, we see a series of moments stretching back into the grey fog of distant memory.  This will be one of those moments for several reasons: it is always good to get out with friends to enjoy Canada's wilderness, and I am grateful to Carl for providing this opportunity. It is also good to have a more accurate view of one's general condition, and not the invincible view that Ego gives us. This allows us to more accurately judge whether or not we should be lifting washing machines or other appliances, or even to offer to help someone move! But most important, I spent a glorious afternoon hiking with a good friend I've known for over 25 years, and this I will remember fondly for many years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-7062996675046422071?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/7062996675046422071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=7062996675046422071' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7062996675046422071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7062996675046422071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/10/exorcising-ego.html' title='Exorcising Ego'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SQkvlTj0BiI/AAAAAAAAADQ/WAmdc0KFoyo/s72-c/IMG_0786.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-1144830464681161152</id><published>2008-10-12T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T22:10:11.582-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gratitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='80/20 rule'/><title type='text'>Sitting in a pumpkin patch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SPLCe2wQMoI/AAAAAAAAACA/m-JfD70Mf1E/s1600-h/pumpkin+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SPLCe2wQMoI/AAAAAAAAACA/m-JfD70Mf1E/s320/pumpkin+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256477550444556930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Standing in a pumpkin patch. That was what I was doing on Saturday night. In different times, I might have been waiting for the Great Pumpkin, but on Saturday, I was enjoying the feelings of standing in a pumpkin patch.  Waiting with my camera for the muse to come to me, being in awe of where I was standing, I started thinking of where I had come to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to the fork in the road, dear reader. I have been downsized now, and my future is much less clear than it was. With the world in economic turmoil, the planet in crisis, I sat down in that pumpkin patch, and reflected. And you know? A pumpkin patch is a good place to reflect, because it starts you off in the right direction. For pumpkins care nothing of Wall Street, pink slips, or gas prices. They care nothing for status symbols, or whether or not I own an iPhone. Nay, sitting in that field of gourds, I was reminded of bounty, generosity, and a general concern for whether there would be frost tonight. The reader will forgive me for taking a walk on the esoteric side of life to clear my thinking; I began by thinking thoughts of gratitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In times of struggle, or in times of good fortune, I believe it is always best to begin with gratitude. It is easy to be grateful for good tidings, to be thankful for a great meal and full belly, for a new car and a good job. That's a good warmup, like a pre-game stretch. What brings perspective is to look at your life - look at everything in your life - and to find a reason to be grateful for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." - from Hamlet , Wm. Shakespeare; Act II.   I believe this should be written on the ceiling of every bedroom in every house in Canada.  Think of it - everything that has happened in our lives, we have labelled "good" or "bad", or sometimes "ugly"; but it is our thinking that makes it so. And it is within our power to change that label, so as to use that experience as a positive force or impetus. Our lives are a perfect balance of sights, sounds, smells and things, in a perfect harmony of what we can bear, although we don't always think it at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The key to living a meaningful life is to feel grateful for everything in your life. Everything. The challenge is to look at the "negatives" and to see them for what they really are; neutral events we have classified as "bad". The next logical step is to see that neutral event as being a positive influence. On my right hand sits a ring, engraved with the words "This too shall pass." It reminds me that no matter what is happening, it will soon change.  I have been given an opportunity now to turn photography from a passion into a career; from a daydream I had in 1996 into a reality in 2008. One of the more cryptic conversations I have ever had was with a photographer, in 2006. I can remember word for word his advice to another up and coming photographer: "Do you want to know if you can succeed? Then quit your job, begin paying rent on your studio, and get your wife pregnant. You will soon realize if you are succeeding." He looked at me and said, "Have you heard of the 80/20 rule? It applies to photography as well. Photography is a very good business - for some." (Here's where I expand on that). There will always be weddings, there will always be a need for portraiture, and there will always be a need for good images.  Those that can provide them will be in demand, and in that regard, recession-proof. Flikr, Twitter, Uncle Bob with his camera - these are all real, but to a pumpkin, they are neutral. To a good photographer, they can be motivation to become better, instead of standing still. When I was photographing a wedding recently, having Uncle Bob (not his real name) off my shoulder with a newer, more expensive camera inspired me to shoot better; to watch my background even more; to animate my subjects even further; to play with my lighting even more carefully. And to be rewarded by his exasperation when his photos turned out differently than mine did was quiet affirmation that I have become better than I was. I'm not competing with him, but with myself. He was just a reminder to me to give it my best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone has any comments on this or any other post, I welcome feedback. I may not agree, but wonderful things can be learned from dissenting viewpoints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Kees&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-1144830464681161152?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/1144830464681161152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=1144830464681161152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1144830464681161152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1144830464681161152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/10/sitting-in-pumpkin-patch.html' title='Sitting in a pumpkin patch'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SPLCe2wQMoI/AAAAAAAAACA/m-JfD70Mf1E/s72-c/pumpkin+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-3914234161631101995</id><published>2008-09-22T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T21:15:36.877-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life&apos;s purpose'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grieving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='courage'/><title type='text'>The books we read and the lives we live</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SNhcpIkPhGI/AAAAAAAAABw/iWIzmdNdBfY/s1600-h/spoletini++230.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SNhcpIkPhGI/AAAAAAAAABw/iWIzmdNdBfY/s320/spoletini++230.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249047227444200546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, I'm reading St Francis of Assisi, by Nikos Kazantzakis.  It was a wonderful book, written 30 or 40 years ago, and based on the life of St Francis. So far, I'm around 100 pages in, and the main characters have just restored a church, gone naked in the town square, and been disowned by St Francis' father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever feel like you've missed the point? Well, I do. I don't know if I'm just grieving for my gramma and being melancholy, or if I am actually this self absorbed, but I'm hurting. I watch what I say to people when they ask me how I'm doing, I smile and say, Oh its all right, but inside, I'm cold. Having someone close to you die, seeing them dying before you, shocks a person. I'm seeing my life in new light, the mistakes I've made, the successes I've had, the songs I've heard, it's all shaken up. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've measured out my life in coffee spoons&lt;/span&gt;, wrote TS Elliot, and like the character he was writing about, I feel unable to see the results once the curtain is drawn back. My life has been shaken, and now I am watching as the pieces fall back down. What surprises me is that things I thought were important, are not. Things I forgot were important, are important again. Suddenly, I am in a direct conversation with my soul, and instead of the little voice it usually has, that barely squeaks over all the distractions I place in my life, I am now listening to the roaring of a perfect storm.  The only thing that hasn't changed is the love I have for my wife; if anything, I've told her more times how absolutely amazing she is. I catch myself sometimes just observing how beautiful she is, just being who she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look at my work as a photographer, I see it as absolutely essential that I continue. I see how important it is to do what I do, and how much of a lasting effect I can have by doing what I love. On church on Sunday, the pastor spoke of the Blues Brothers, and being on a mission from God, and I could relate to what he meant. I know that he was fishing for people to be called to do God's work, but I could still relate. But then when I look at what I do for a living, I feel sad, because that's not God's work.  I feel the guilt of suppressing my dreams to make a living. I feel like such an unimaginable failure for not having the courage to seize the day, and to follow my dreams as St Francis in the wilderness. I feel the misplaced rage as I lash out at people that are still submerged in their own little lives, when they place importance on pedantic details that mean nothing. Getting to work 5 minutes earlier by tailgating me earns you a bouquet of fingers, all pointed up. People and their insessant worrying; cramming more and more into a day, and not knowing when enough is enough makes me want to scream. Making themselves so busy they can't hear the silence within; if they did, would they still do the things they do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The image above was taken in Prince George, in a moment when my life's purpose seemed crystal clear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-3914234161631101995?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/3914234161631101995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=3914234161631101995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/3914234161631101995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/3914234161631101995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/09/books-we-read-and-lives-we-live.html' title='The books we read and the lives we live'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SNhcpIkPhGI/AAAAAAAAABw/iWIzmdNdBfY/s72-c/spoletini++230.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-7813446143473022361</id><published>2008-09-03T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T20:11:26.995-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gramma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seize the day'/><title type='text'>The tyranny of the urgent</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SMnd2B4G7aI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HTf7GmHxlu4/s1600-h/IMG_3931.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SMnd2B4G7aI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HTf7GmHxlu4/s320/IMG_3931.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244967161336098210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SMndlVUVyzI/AAAAAAAAABI/Z4_wPwwC5ck/s1600-h/IMG_5292.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SMndlVUVyzI/AAAAAAAAABI/Z4_wPwwC5ck/s320/IMG_5292.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244966874497010482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever gone out and forgotten the important papers sitting on your desk? Or left the milk out on the counter as you left for work? Answered your phone while you were visiting with someone else? Ever been so caught up with the urgent things at the office that you lose track of what is important? Too often, the important loses out to the tyranny of the urgent. Two years from now, how important will that milk be? At the time, leaving a full carton of milk to go bad seems like a big deal. Sometimes, a natural correction flows into our lives, putting things in perspective. We laugh about how critical that sales meeting seemed at the time, or how important hairstyles were in the 80's, and we remember not to take ourselves so seriously.&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if you look back and realize that all of the effort you spent bustling around, rushing here and there looking busy, meant that you haven't been doing what was important, but doing what seemed urgent instead. How would you feel, knowing that you could have been spending time with someone close, you could have brought flowers home more often but didn't, you could have said, I love you but you didn't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, my gramma had a stroke.  That natural correction puts a lot of things in perspective; career, job, family, debt, pets, friends... like throwing a deck of organized cards in the air and waiting for what lands on top. I found myself looking through photos I've taken over the years, and memories I've kept, and I realized that I had way more memories than photos. So many times, I kept my camera in the bag, couldn't be bothered to record what was happening. Suddenly, with an icy feeling, I knew I had regrets. Those moments are lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As photographers, we sometimes become numb to the importance of what we do for a living, and for a life. People scoff at our passions, or trivialize the nature of the work, comparing it to the trades as though one were better than another. They may even have a camera themselves, convincing us that they can do as good as we can. It takes a moment like this to realize how important portraiture is, and reaffirms my commitment to this art. But I wish that I had taken more portraits, and starting now, my camera will be ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Gramma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-7813446143473022361?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/7813446143473022361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=7813446143473022361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7813446143473022361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7813446143473022361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/09/tyranny-of-urgent.html' title='The tyranny of the urgent'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SMnd2B4G7aI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HTf7GmHxlu4/s72-c/IMG_3931.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-5370381054276502565</id><published>2008-08-29T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T20:15:02.292-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gratitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Taoism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-awareness'/><title type='text'>The importance of gratitude</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SMnegbbcwhI/AAAAAAAAABY/zK6tf7RF41w/s1600-h/IMG_5369.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SMnegbbcwhI/AAAAAAAAABY/zK6tf7RF41w/s320/IMG_5369.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244967889749721618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that the key to happiness is gratitude.  Gratitude comes in many forms, and not all are equal. Some people cannot find it in their hearts to be grateful, no matter what happens, but those people are for another post. Some people can find gratitude in good things that happen to them, and this is a good beginning. There is a Taoist principle that things happen, it is we that apply meaning to them, and thus label them "good" or "bad".  I'll look that up when I'm home, so I don't mislead the good reader.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A better approach is to be grateful for everything that happens, because it is all part of the great, perfect mystery that we call life. If you consider life to be a beautiful, perfect screenplay, everything that has happened, everyone we've met, everything we have done, has all been part of the perfect plan that God has laid out for us. Instead of cursing at events we don't like,  be grateful for what it teaches you. Study an athlete, or watch a child with a skateboard practicing. They learn from what isn't working, and correct it.  A slow driver in front of you teaches patience, and the fact you were upset about it says you need to learn some!  The person that left a dent on your car door was teaching you to release your attachment to material things. The spouse that left, the parent that abandoned you - they were teaching you self-reliance, and the degree to which it crushed you is the amount of self-reliance you needed to learn. Nothing is in greater quantities than you can handle; we may think it is, but we underestimate our own abilities. I remember in Karate class one day, our sensei asked us how many of us could do 200 push-ups. Not one of us answered yes, and Sensei told us gently "You all &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;can&lt;/span&gt; do 200 push-ups; the difference is that you don't know it yet."  For the next hour, we did sets of push-ups, punctuated by various running exercises, and at the end of the hour, all of us knew we could do it.  I've never forgotten that lesson, although I may doubt myself sometimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While I use this blog as a personal soapbox, I never want the dear reader to assume I don't struggle with what I blog. I write to release what is pent-up inside me, to understand more completely what I am going through, to remind myself not to take myself too seriously. I write to create balance in my life, to express what I want to feel, and not necessarily what I am feeling at that moment. Teaching others, writing in a journal, or trying to explain our actions to the RCMP officer affords us a sense of self-awareness, to correct our thinking, and to proceed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right now I am sitting with a neck that is so stiff, it sounds like shattering pasta when I rotate my head. I have a stabbing pain when I look over my shoulder, and for that, I am grateful. The pain tells me that I need to ask "Why so serious?" to the mirror. To revisit where I am, what I have become and to decide if the stress I have created for myself is useful. Is this pain useful? We'll see. Is it a reminder that I have my eyes cast down, seeking problems, instead of lifting my head up to see the solutions? I think so. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Better to be grateful for what you have, for tomorrow you may grieve its loss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The portrait above is Darren, thoroughly enjoying himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-5370381054276502565?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/5370381054276502565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=5370381054276502565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/5370381054276502565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/5370381054276502565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/08/importance-of-gratitude.html' title='The importance of gratitude'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SMnegbbcwhI/AAAAAAAAABY/zK6tf7RF41w/s72-c/IMG_5369.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-2084448861126472594</id><published>2008-08-21T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T07:04:44.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Living small</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SK7B-bIXlPI/AAAAAAAAABA/j-hxasGb_RI/s1600-h/naramata+pub.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SK7B-bIXlPI/AAAAAAAAABA/j-hxasGb_RI/s320/naramata+pub.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237336694857372914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people would expect the title to be "Living Large", and indeed, that was what I was going to lead in with.  In a quiet moment, however, I realized that honestly, I've been living small. Someone asked me the other day if I realized how talented I was (I believe the term she used was GENIUS) and I responded without thinking, "No, I don't." All our lives, we are taught to be modest about our accomplishments, as though being successful will offend someone like a fart in a crowded room.  But really, who teaches that? What parent squashes their child with "That's a pretty bad painting, son... I think you should give up on that." No, my parents didn't say that. So where did we get this idea? Ego. It is ego, that quiet voice that whispers, "Not good enough" in the night, as we go to sleep. It is ego that shouts "You'll never make it!" just before we attempt cliff-diving for the first time. It is ego that convinces us not to be better than our friends, for the sake of fitting in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would we attempt to fit in, when we've been given gifts to make us unique? Why look like one seagull amongst the flock, when we could fly solo, like an eagle, instead? When I asked myself that question, I realized that I've been laying low and being "modest" about my work, when I should be standing up and expressing myself instead. All around us are people whose own gifts have made them genius; I should be exercising my own gifts to capture that spirit, and in doing so, become the photographer I am meant to be, not the one that blends in.  Do we admire William Shatner because he blends in? Tom Waits? How about Jeff Healey? Did Heath Ledger blend in?  No, we admire these people because of their gifts, and their courage to exercise their talents, and in doing so, entertain us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is the direction we must take. When given the choice between living small and blending in, we must stand up and say "No." When given the choice between good enough and great, we must make the effort to choose great. And as we do so, we elevate ourselves from Guy with Camera to Artist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above photo was taken after the rain, in Naramata BC.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-2084448861126472594?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/2084448861126472594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=2084448861126472594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/2084448861126472594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/2084448861126472594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/08/living-small.html' title='Living small'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SK7B-bIXlPI/AAAAAAAAABA/j-hxasGb_RI/s72-c/naramata+pub.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-1893769114384594819</id><published>2008-08-20T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T19:33:14.565-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abby'/><title type='text'>Meet Abby.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SK4kRvuQw9I/AAAAAAAAAA4/QWa93me1wos/s1600-h/meet+abby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SK4kRvuQw9I/AAAAAAAAAA4/QWa93me1wos/s320/meet+abby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237163303965344722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a few days since I posted here, and I wanted you to meet the reason why. Abby is a 4 year old Lhasa Apso that we've adopted. She's very relaxed, likes going for walks through orchards and neighborhoods, and has an aversion to cameras. (and so far, black dogs) We're hoping she gets over that. A dog this cute should be in pictures!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adopting a dog has been an incredible experience. Like having a furry, snaggle-tooth child that eats dog food! Suddenly, responsibilities take on new meanings when you have someone worshipping your every move. Is that what having children is like?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-1893769114384594819?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/1893769114384594819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=1893769114384594819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1893769114384594819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/1893769114384594819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/08/meet-abby.html' title='Meet Abby.'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SK4kRvuQw9I/AAAAAAAAAA4/QWa93me1wos/s72-c/meet+abby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-4150236659450953300</id><published>2008-08-12T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:34:00.881-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='on-purpose'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='determination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Realism'/><title type='text'>Being Realistic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SKJtc45W0qI/AAAAAAAAAAw/s0UawRyOQMQ/s1600-h/Seinen_34.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SKJtc45W0qI/AAAAAAAAAAw/s0UawRyOQMQ/s320/Seinen_34.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233866060034658978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being realistic. A wolf in sheep's clothing, if ever there was one. A sure-fire killer of dreams and aspirations, being realistic has sacrificed many dreams to "I have to earn a living", "I can't afford that" or the ever popular "You'll never earn enough doing that". Or how about "I couldn't do that... what would people think?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a different approach to being realistic. I believe being realistic is to embrace what inner vision you have, and to pursue it with vigour. Many people suffer in careers they hate, not knowing anything else, until it ends and they find themselves doing something they enjoy much more. Often a mill closure, a factory pink slip, or an injury can lead to incredible gains for a person who decides to get real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being realistic is not necessarily turning away from what inspires us. Rather, it may be that by turning away from the job at the mill, or the factory, or the cubicle farm, we find ourselves in a position we never imagined.  There is a story that one of Carl Jung's associates was fired, and when he told Jung his story, Jung replied "That is wonderful news indeed! We must find a bottle and celebrate!".  The point I intend to illustrate is that we plod along, head down, earning a living, and we don't see the forest, or even the trees. We see the path by our feet. Look up! Look around you! BE REALISTIC! See the beauty surrounding you that you might have driven past a hundred times. See it for what it is, not what you thought it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me illustrate. I worked at a job last summer for three weeks, and hated every day there. I didn't get along with my foreman, I couldn't really relate to the guys I worked with, and subsequently felt more and more isolated every day, and destined for failure. The harder I tried, the faster I went, the more I had to fix afterward. I went to work one Friday morning, and was told that I was completely useless, that I should leave the trades, and that I was hereby fired.  The foreman that said these things was so vitriolic and passionate about what he was saying, the reader could be forgiven for believing him. However, instead of arguing, I became realistic. Well, after a little arguing, I became realistic!  I realized that I had just received a beautiful opportunity to leave a job I hated, and to find one I liked. In the end, I found myself at a company that supported its employees, encouraged people and celebrated their successes, and paid more, to boot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that we are here to fulfill a purpose, and that we alone really know what that is. Others may sense it, but their senses are clouded by their judgements, prejudice, and feelings.  The way to know your purpose is to look within - there is no other way. What makes your heart sing? What catches your attention as you leaf through a magazine? What do you research online before anyone else gets up in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we feel like we've discovered our purpose in life, most of us turn to our closest friends  or family and tell them. The difficulty is that family or close friends may have their own views, opinions, or vested interests about you, and raising Llamas in the Himalayas might not be part of their plans. Try this sometime: at a party, turn to someone and tell them you've always had a dream to work on a crocodile farm in Australia, or race camels in Egypt, in the shadows of the pyramids. What you'll find may surprise you: instead of laughing or immediately telling you why it won't work, many people will encourage your venture, and even offer helpful or unhelpful advice on how to do it. Listen, filter, and decide, but realize that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you already know the answer&lt;/span&gt;. It lies within, in the quiet places where our thoughts go to be at peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened when one of Carl Jung's associates was promoted? After excitedly telling him of his new position, Jung replied gravely, "This is very serious indeed; but if we stick together, we shall all pull through this".  Look up! Look around you! Whether you think something is good or bad, chances are that later you will feel different about it. Being realistic means looking seriously at our heart's desires, and vowing to support them instead of letting them wither. Vowing to defend our beliefs and to follow them to see where they lead us. That silent knowing that we feel when we are on purpose - that is being realistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happiest when I am creating images; I am engergized, inspired, and alive. I spend my mornings reading about how to make my images better, or brainstorming new concepts to try in my photography. I can be lethargic and bored one minute, ready to leave a party early, but with a camera in my hand, I become alive and invigorated almost instantly. That is being realistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The image above is Jordan, being realistic in a peach orchard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-4150236659450953300?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/4150236659450953300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=4150236659450953300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/4150236659450953300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/4150236659450953300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/08/being-realistic.html' title='Being Realistic'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SKJtc45W0qI/AAAAAAAAAAw/s0UawRyOQMQ/s72-c/Seinen_34.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-6066693724463467590</id><published>2008-08-05T21:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T22:35:11.147-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Principles'/><title type='text'>Like A Rock</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SJktlMAgaeI/AAAAAAAAAAg/ovQ7xIWXM6E/s1600-h/IMG_3437+justin+skiing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SJktlMAgaeI/AAAAAAAAAAg/ovQ7xIWXM6E/s320/IMG_3437+justin+skiing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231262559069301218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Why is it that a piece of music, a poem, a scene from a movie has the power to grab us the viewer and wring emotion from us? Is there a common theme? Indeed, there are many, but one common thread never fails to affect me. Someone who stands by his principles and doesn't let them die. Legions of Louis L'amour fans kept buying his books long after he died (myself included). Throughout his stories, the hero, though human, refused to stand by and watch evil reign and conquer. Facing insurmountable odds, he charged in and faced his fears, and his foes, with a cool glare and a hot six shooter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why then do we finish reading an adventure like that, our hearts soaring, brimming with principles, and return to our soul sucking jobs the next day? What has happened to us, to our principles, to our ambitions? I was talking to a retired welder the other day who criticized my decision to forsake the trades. He berated me, speaking with a heavy accent, how he went to work every day hating his job, hating the places he worked, constantly being burnt by the slag, burnt on his hands, his eyes, his face, but he went there for what? And he patted his wallet, like a favorite pet.  I think that man has wasted his entire life, becoming the bitter, used-up carcass I saw before me that day. But I wondered how he got there - surely nobody sets out to slay his enthusiasm and ambitions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donald Trump, speaking with Larry King, said that to be successful, it is critical to love what you are doing. Otherwise, you will not put in the effort necessary to achieve greatness. That is true - study some of the great people of history, and see if this holds up. Mother Teresa;  Fred Astaire; Youssef Karsh; Arnold Newman; Picasso; all examples of people who have followed their dreams; stayed true to their principles; have been written down in history for doing so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what about music? In 1986, Bob Seger sang "Like A  Rock" to chart-topping success because of the powerful message behind the lyrics.  Chevrolet used it to demonstrate the strength behind their trucks.  People relate to the music because of the theme of standing behind principles, even though it may not be popular at the time. It is the kind of song that makes people dream about what they would do, if only they could stand by their principles instead of feeding them to their wallets.  I can't listen to that song without my mind drifting off to distant planes, where I am strong, proud, and standing by my principles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does that translate to real life? I believe that we can live that way, if we choose. We can choose to pursue what we love to do, be it photography, painting, carpentry or concrete. I meet people every day who love what they do, in all walks of life. There is a light in their eyes that shines, even when exhaustion threatens to close their eyes. There is a passion in what they do, what they speak about, how they act.  Not all passions lead us to the poorhouse; that is the lie that uninspired people tell us to keep us doing what is "reasonable." Every step spent in pursuit of our passions seems like a leap compared to a step spent pursuing that which we don't want. And that is the truth we must embrace, to live a life worth living.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The wakeboarder is Justin Milsted, enjoying life on Mara Lake, BC.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-6066693724463467590?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/6066693724463467590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=6066693724463467590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/6066693724463467590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/6066693724463467590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/08/like-rock.html' title='Like A Rock'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SJktlMAgaeI/AAAAAAAAAAg/ovQ7xIWXM6E/s72-c/IMG_3437+justin+skiing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-7835935066455750962</id><published>2008-07-26T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T15:23:05.756-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspiration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='living In-spirit'/><title type='text'>Being On-Purpose</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIyhPIYWnRI/AAAAAAAAAAY/bGrCKY0TRio/s1600-h/IMG_3046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIyhPIYWnRI/AAAAAAAAAAY/bGrCKY0TRio/s320/IMG_3046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227730548790041874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've delayed writing this post for several days now; although I knew what I was going to write, to do it justice, to write effectively, I had to be in the right mental space.  Life can be lived several ways: the first is to exist, careening haphazardly between events, going with the flow, working at a job, going home to a house, and feeling as though something is missing but you're not sure what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second way is to live life according to your purpose.  I've known for many years that my purpose in life is to create images; doing so makes my heart sing, the same way listening to a great blues musician refills my soul. Moving towards my life's purpose feels good; by the same token, moving away from that purpose feels unimaginably bad.  Just the simple act of creating a portrait, capturing an expression, communicating what I see through the visual medium of a photograph sends my endorphins pounding through my head, and I am happy. In that enlightened state of mind, my confidence soars, my creativity feels boundless, and the world is truly my oyster. But how to maintain that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being on-purpose is a choice; many times, it is easier to listen to others advice than to listen to your own soul, because the others are louder. Listening to your own soul requires silent contemplation, and faith that you do have a purpose. Sit quietly, and listen to your inner voice. Allow yourself to do something that feels good; it reaffirms your worth to yourself. Act as if you have already become what you dream about. You must first BE the person you want to be, to DO the things you want, before you HAVE what you want. You will be far more successful, and happy, when you are acting according to your life's purpose instead of against it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For several years, I acted against my life's purpose, believing that once I'd earned enough money, I would be able to pursue my dreams. As well thought out as my plan was, it was complete rubbish, and I descended into the blackest depression I've ever faced. Creativity grows when it is encouraged, and supported; it withers when neglected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am working towards my life's purpose again, every day seems fresh and exciting. Some days are fresher than others, but there is no substitute for inspiration.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-7835935066455750962?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/7835935066455750962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=7835935066455750962' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7835935066455750962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/7835935066455750962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/07/being-on-purpose.html' title='Being On-Purpose'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIyhPIYWnRI/AAAAAAAAAAY/bGrCKY0TRio/s72-c/IMG_3046.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7690235402426339421.post-2215246181092931435</id><published>2008-07-19T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T20:43:50.101-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perseverence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Effectiveness and Perseverence.</title><content type='html'>When I look back on my own march towards effectiveness in my photography, I see a number of factors that have traditionally led me astray. While I am a good photographer, and I know this, I am often reluctant to let others know this, and my self-marketing presence goes woefully unnoticed in conversation. This is definitely a focal point of my efforts going forward; I will mention to everyone in conversation that I am indeed one of the finest photographers they've ever met, and would be excited to have them commission me for a portrait. That is step one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for step two. Step two is short for perseverence, which I think is one of the most important skills a photographer needs. It is one thing to be a good photographer, but it is another to get out there photographing when the urge is not upon me.  I must now embrace the concept of GOYA, aka Get Off Yer Arse and create. Better to create an average image than to be the best photographer who never takes photos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step three. Gratitude. Being grateful for what you have, what has happened, and who you are surrounded with, is more than just happy thoughts. It is critical to staying open to new ideas, to understanding how much we really have been given, and to maintaining peace of mind. How often has something occurred which at the time, seemed irritating, inconvenient or downright bad luck, but ended up being a good thing? I'm going to guess: many.  Leaving late for work and driving past an accident that just occurred.  Being driven out of a bad job, then finding a much better one. Our perceptions can be so focused and narrow, we sometimes miss the broader picture of what is really happening. And being grateful just keeps us grounded, so that when opportunity presents itself, we don't discount it by saying, "I can't afford that", "I'll never be able to do that", or "That's not the way we do things here".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7690235402426339421-2215246181092931435?l=keessnyders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/feeds/2215246181092931435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7690235402426339421&amp;postID=2215246181092931435' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/2215246181092931435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7690235402426339421/posts/default/2215246181092931435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keessnyders.blogspot.com/2008/07/effectiveness-and-perseverence.html' title='Effectiveness and Perseverence.'/><author><name>Kees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00743236172864847291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5kWqMZX4nY/SIKlm8P4cLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/r-_-Kh9ZBJc/S220/Kees+headshot0589.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
