I love photography, but I am a bad picture-taker.  Or maybe I should say I am a bad recorder - of events, family life, my children.  Thank goodness for my mother-in-law or we might not have any record at all of birthdays, Christmases.  I am more apt to be snapping a picture of some interesting lichen growing on the patio than I am capturing the family reunion.  

Last year Steven and I went to New Mexico, just the two of us.  We chose Albuquerque because we wanted to go somewhere in the Southwest and we had free tickets on Continental Airlines.  I found a wonderful little bed and breakfast called Casas de Suenos, right in the Old Town, so we didn’t even rent a car.  It was a short but magical 4 days.

We bought our new camera right before we left, and took lots of pictures.  We discovered upon our return, showing our photos to friends, what an odd perspective we have.  Our ”tourist” pictures are all of color and texture, form, light, graffiti and bridge underpasses, signs and decay.  Oh, and rust.  One friend patiently sat through our slideshow, and then said, “You went to New Mexico, and brought back pictures of dirt.”  Not just any dirt – beautiful dirt.  She just doesn’t get it. 

Here is a bit of travelogue, Tandem style: