Tamara Hastie
Tamara Hastie Artist & Photographer

A simple blog containing photography, videos, and creative media by Tamara Hastie.

A simple blog containing photography, videos, and creative media by Tamara Hastie of rock climbing, portraits, HD video, and other various forms of mixed media.

I watched the sliver of a moon set behind the Pacific...

I sat there and watched this glorious slice of pie mingle with the clouds before it danced below that amazing, huge black, Pacific. 

The islands were lost in the matrix of gray water meeting skies, sand, kelp, and fish.

It was late for me.

Who am I kidding, it was early morning.

1 am.


Listening to the banter of inner reflections and realizations within all these very important parts of my life. 

I decided watching the moon dip below the horizon, taking that time and committing to listening, to myself. 

To Stop.

And Listen.

Everything hinges on ones' actions, detractions, missteps, wrong or right words. This juggle of deciding what path is best (?), what if you did the wrong thing (?), this cycle tends to take up a lot of energy, and time spent doing something else possible with someone else more beautiful.  

I juggle this. 

Ocean and blue skies wide open, the moment is spent watching this moon calming the inner cycle,  juggling this banter. 

My mama is old, and sick. It's hard to see it every time I come back home, the Ojai reality check. There are deeper issues, of course, but I saw this situation in a light that seemed more real than ever before. 

I held my head high, looked around as she described her spring stew.

She is so proud, she takes so much pride, it is now the highlight of her day. It is the best spring stew, fresh corn, brisket, seasonings de mama, and as I ate every bite I looked around at every detail in her small studio. Where she placed her pictures, what she had on her nightstand, where she has placed my nieces dolls. Her very planned chaos, I wanted to absorb all the details, I wanted to take in the light, the smells, the entire fucking moment.

All of them. 

Every single last one. 

It hit me, as I sat with her the past week, and leaving today for work....

This may be the last spring stew I have with her. 

 Richard McKinley,  Last Light in Ojai,  oil

Richard McKinley, Last Light in Ojai, oil