FACT: Col. Chris Hadfield takes pictures from space

Posted on February 8, 2013 by Kaia Calhoun

The Astronaut Photographer

I feel like we never hear much about Canadians. But I’m glad I heard about this one.

Col. Chris Hadfield is a flight engineer on expedition 34 on the ISS with a love of photography. Every day on his Tumblr he posts one image for the world to see. His Twitter is also popular as he tweets those images and more. Hadfield has made all of this even more fun by engaging his fans in various photo challenges.

Chris is on the ISS until May 2013, but, don’t fret, it looks like he’s planning on going up for expedition 35 as commander on the ISS 🙂 Heck, I wish I could go and take pictures too!

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A Big Stroke of Pride and a Little Touch of Grace

Posted on February 6, 2013 by Kaia Calhoun

Tonight Josh and I decided to try out the Midweek service at Willow Creek Community Church. We were tardy so worship had already started.

Today I hadn’t managed to take a picture yet so I brought my camera and resolved to get that out of the way before we even sat down. I paused at the back of the sanctuary, so as not to disrupt or distract anyone, and before I could even remove my lens cap I was reprimanded. I think the woman came over to ask me a question but as soon as she saw my camera all she had to say was something like, “no pictures.” Then she walked away. Three things crossed my mind all at once:

“In today’s age? I bet you someone is taking a picture with their iPhone right now.”
“Ouch.”
“I think I might just leave now.”

I was flabbergasted at her audacity to ask me not to take a pictures. I honestly didn’t think cameras were forbidden anywhere but a few select places anymore, and I didn’t think Willow Creek (the land of escalators, a vast assortment of stage lights, electric guitars, and videographers) would be one of them. It is the age of the smart phone.

Her words struck a big, “do not touch” Kaia button. I don’t handle reprimanding very well. I take it personally.

I was utterly crushed. Now, you might be thinking, come on Kaia, grow some thick skin. Well, I didn’t run out of the room crying and remain sobbing in the bathroom for hours and that is big for me. Because, when I was a kid, if I EVER got reprimanded it was the end of the world. I would stow myself away in my room, broken to bits, for hours. Even when my parents repeatedly tried to coax me out of my crushing self-loathing I remained. Am I sensitive? I guess you could say that.

Now-a-days, I grit my teeth and let the parade of negative thoughts scream in my brain while remaining utterly silent on the exterior.

The rest of the service was tainted. I tried to sing along with the worship songs but I couldn’t even open my mouth. I tried to pray but I couldn’t focus. I tried to listen to the message and, at best, I retained scraps.

I thought about leaving. I had a somewhat sick, mild satisfaction when we did, indeed, exit the doors we had come through before “no pictures.” An evil part of me was thinking, “good, I hope you think you deterred me from church.” But, in fact, we just went upstairs to sit in the balcony because there was noticeably more space.

I literally spent THE REST of the service mulling over the whole situation. I went through all sorts of waves of emotions ranging from self-degradation, self-loathing, bitterness, anger, alienation, and nothing. I rehearsed several different versions of conversing with her over in my head, ranging from confrontation to blessing. In the end, I just let it go.

This whole experience shed a lot of light into a lot of dark places in my heart though. I was disgusted to find that, even though I grew up in the church and follow Christ faithfully, I was so quick to judge that woman and dismiss the church service. And because of that I suddenly stepped into the shoes of a unbeliever stepping into the church for the first time. I was horrified to think of that woman approaching a unbeliever that way. She was the only person that uttered a word to me the whole hour and a half I was there and the best she had was “no pictures.” Of course I know the church has problems and we are only people, but I know so many unbelievers who don’t know that and expect perfection of Christians. They, most likely, would not be forgiving or be willing to try a second time. And I wouldn’t blame them.

As my range of thoughts and feelings rampaged around there were a few clear and good ones.

I contemplated what I might have done differently if I were that woman, knowing what I know now. I would have either not bothered with the camera, I mean really, or I would have gone ahead and informed 24-year-old me, but I wouldn’t have kept my words so patronizing and curt; I would have explained why “no pictures” briefly and asked if I could help find some seating for the young couple. My raging defenses would have been tamed if she’d shown a little love within the interaction.

I also contemplated myself and how irrationally my head was spinning. It took some convincing and a little prodding from the Holy Spirit but I slowly realized that she was probably just trying to serve, to do her job, and if I were going to do mine and show the grace God so frequently gives me… well I would have to let the matter go, forgive and forget, and see if I can’t withstand crumbling underneath criticism so rapidly and thoroughly next time. I became painfully aware of my own fault and I think its name is pride.

So, here’s to moving forward 🙂

Until next time,

Kaia Calhoun

P.S. And now I have to go take a picture 😉 And… if you haven’t already, check out my 100th blog post HERE! There’s a little surprise waiting for you there (eh hem… a giveaway drawing).

Musings of a Musician’s Wife: the good and the not so good of wedding photography

Posted on June 22, 2012 by Kaia Calhoun

As a wedding photographer I come across a great variety of weddings from the fancy over-the-top sort to the handmade and on the farm type. Being that weddings have consumed my attention this month I have had them on my mind a lot. These weddings become a part of my life for a while because of all the emotions I see throughout the day and because of the emotionally charged atmosphere I take on some emotions myself. More specifically, I particularly remember the best moments of the day… and the not so good.

The not so good

Divorce is bad. But it becomes painfully obvious at a wedding as I arrange and rearrange families for various additions and subtractions of people to satisfy everyone’s ideal wedding portrait. I love making everyone’s dreams come true, but there is always something sad to me when the rearranging is not so the bride and groom can have treasured pictures with the whole family and any individual members they want but to get all the broken sections of family.

Guest paparazzi. All the point and shoot cameras brought into a wedding become my battle grounds for getting pictures of the bride and groom. My deepest wish is to have a wedding with no other cameras but my own so I don’t have to compete for attention and don’t have to fight against other people’s flashes and cameras hanging out in the middle of my perfect point of view.

The hand. This happens most at receptions, some more, some less, but the hand to the camera… please do not do it. All I can think in moments like that is “but I am doing this for the bride and groom.”

An angry bride. It’s just scary.

The good

Wedding sermons. I love wedding sermons. They never get old to me and it is always a wonderful reminder for me to refocus my attention on the things that matter in my own marriage.

The bride’s grand entrance. To this day I am on the verge of tears every time a bride walks down an aisle, especially if the groom is crying. There is something about that moment that stirs up all the good there is to be had in the world and plops it right in front of me. Nothing else matters in that still moment but the bride and groom locking eyes and everyone else believing in love, even if just for a moment.

Worship. Josh and I didn’t have worship at our ceremony, but if I were to do it all over again I totally would. During worship at the ceremony I find myself on the verge of tears yet another time. If the moments the bride spends walking down the aisle are beautiful, the moments she and her man spend worshipping together on their wedding day are beyond magnificent – highlighting God during the day that marks one of the biggest commitments.

Physical transformation. I love getting to watch all the women in the bridal party go from bed head and wrinkly comfy, clothes to glamorous princesses. Sometimes when I later connect with various members I’m confused when I see them dressed in their street clothes as I catalogue them in my brain as the princess I last saw them as.

Perhaps I will add more to this collection over time but, for now, these are the few that have been running laps in my brain.

California – “No Embarcadero!”

Posted on August 4, 2011 by Kaia Calhoun

– photos and text by Kaia Calhoun –

It seems against the rules to come all the way to San Francisco and not see the Golden Gate Bridge.

We were scheduled to leave for Los Angeles the next day and I hadn’t seen a spec of downtown San Francisco. So, mom go to work on getting us our rental car sooner so we could drive into the city for the afternoon.

We spent the morning at my second cousin, Jensen’s, meet meet and making phone calls. The festive throng of blue people cheered Jensen along with the rest of the team. There were blue tents, blue chairs, blue blankets, blue lips, and blue Speedos.

Our San Francisco adventure started just after that. We were picked up by the car company and given a Chrysler Seabring. We set our sails in the direction or San Francisco with the help of our Garmin. Then she died. Permanently. She left us just as we got within the city limits. We stumbled about the city center as I, the navigator, intuitively led us in the direction of the bridge, and through the now dreaded street called Embarcadero Dr swamped with tourists, concerts, and an art fair, as I fumbled around for some other means of solid navigation. I located and, after a few fails, got the VZ Navigator to work on mom’s phone. But, by then, we reached the end of the two mile, one hour long Embarcadero Dr and my intuitiveness found us a parking spot right along a pier that would give us a view of the bridge.

We got out of the car and I put enough change in the parking meter to last us the precious 45 minutes we had in the city. I saw the bridge, well the half that was not smothered in fog, and the Alcatraz building.

Alcatraz

A romantic moment: staring out across the bay at Alcatraz 😉

The Golden Gate Bridge… it’s there, I promise

Back on the road, this time we were headed to my photo shoot with a father and son a couple towns over from where we were staying. The VZ Navigator was slow to respond, so before we knew it we were being led back onto Embarcadero Dr rather than the alternative, more efficient route that we passed inadvertently due to her delayed behavior. I miraculously got the Garmin to turn on long enough for me to scribble the directions to the place on my hand. No Embarcadero!

The view at the retreat center

When we arrived at the location of the photo shoot I found my self at the top of a big hill taking in a breathtaking view. It was some sort of Catholic retreat center and it was simply gorgeous. When Christian, father, and Luke, son, arrived we set out to make some great pictures. Now, these two were absolutely wonderful to work with because Christian was a former model and Luke seemed as though he was currently a model. At times Christian and I would both laugh out loud at how perfectly Luke held himself for each picture. His hands, feet, face, etc, were always placed perfectly as soon as he got into position.

After just over an hour of fun with Christian and Luke my mom and I packed up and headed home. Fortunately, again, I could turn Garmin on long enough to get the directions written down. However, we took a different turn than we were supposed to, not wrong, but different. See, apparently, if we take Camino Sobrante when we see it rather than taking Miner and then Camino Sobrante we are led all the way around town. Camino Sobrante is one giant loop and we took the wrong way.

Finally, when we made it home, we were hungry and spent. So, we chowed down then snuggled in for the night.

California Road Trip – “Crazy Busy”

Posted on July 31, 2011 by Kaia Calhoun

– written by Amy Hammond-Hagberg and photos by me –

For much of our recent vacation, my daughter and I stayed with my niece Dena and her wonderful family. Their beautiful home is situated amidst the heavily wooded, narrow twisting lanes of a Bay Area paradise. What a great place to grow up; no mosquitoes or blizzards there!

Dena’s life as a mother is crazy busy. From dawn until dusk she is running her two kids, Jensen (7) and Boden (4), to one activity or another—swimming, tennis, ballet, play dates, or day camp to name a few—yet she still manages to make nutritious home-cooked meals and teach Pilates. The whole business was a little overwhelming for me; so much so that I suggested that she might want to think about dialing back a little bit.

It wasn’t until I was on the plane home that I realized what a hypocrite I was. When our kids were little, my husband and I scrambled around to deposit them at one activity or another too—soccer, baseball, football, basketball, dancing lessons, karate, day camp, music lessons, church activities, play dates (we didn’t call them that way back them)—all while hubby and I both worked full-time jobs. I need a Calgon moment just thinking about it.

On one of our days with Dena’s family I had the pleasure of “babysitting” the two kids at the neighborhood pool while Mom helped some women do torturous exercises. Jensen is a little fish, and has swim practice, a lesson, or a meet almost every day of the week. I have no doubt she will be wearing the red, white, and blue of the US Olympic Swim Team one day.

Always the nervous mother (or auntie in this case), I watched her out of the corner of my eye to make sure all was well even though she was surrounded by coaches. She was easy to spot amongst the other swimmers… Jensie’s favorite color is pink.

While she had swimming practice, BoBo got to play in the special shallow triangle of the pool that is set aside for little people. With an eagle eye I sat in the stands watching his every move, determined that nothing bad would happen on my watch. It was fun to see him dogpaddling around the crystal clear water without a care in the world. He didn’t care that he had globs of white sunscreen smeared all over his face or that his aunt had made a pathetic mess of his goggles and his ears were sticking out. He just wanted to play!

No matter where or when you grew up, you had to deal with mean kids, and this swim club was no exception. I watched as three mean boys managed their turf in the shallow end, yelling at the unsuspecting younger kids if they wandered over an imaginary line and into their territory.

In his frenzy to have fun, little BoBo jumped recklessly into the pool, almost landing on top of one of the mean kids…oops. When they were done yelling at him, I walked quietly over to the side of the pool and talked to BoBo. He didn’t understand the whole boundary thing, so I reminded him to always look carefully to make sure no one was in the way before he jumped into the pool. For the rest of the day, he looked over at me to get the thumbs-up before taking the plunge.