Monica Multer

Bees are such fascinating creatures, and beautiful ones at that. I love trying to photograph them. Thanks for sitting still just long enough for me Mr. Bumblebee!

I think it is time for me to share with you a story very near and dear to my heart; the story about why I am afraid of spiders. Let me start off by saying that I wasn’t always afraid of spiders, I was never very keen on them but I didn’t freak out on site about them. I just thought they were disgusting. Living in a wooded area with a canyon in my backyard, naturally we have lots of spiders in our house. About every three months or so, a giant spider pops up in a very inconvenient time or place. Normally in my room and most recently in the bathroom. They just show up out of nowhere and they are ridiculously huge. Honestly, it just makes me want to yell at them “Where in God’s name have you been hiding all this time to grow that freakin big!” When I say big, I mean big. Most people don’t believe me, these guys are so big, you can’t really squish them because they would explode and create a black hole due to its collapsing mass. Seriously, they are too big to squish. ...

I had the honor along with 16 other Full International Baccalaureate students to talk about the IB learner profiles in the new IB orientation welcoming ceremony for incoming Full IB students. This was the first year that Scotts Valley High decided to have a nice ceremony put together by the wonderful Mr. Crawford, Ms. Brooke, and Ms. Reiner. Thank you for a wonderful night. I got to talk about how being reflective is an integral part of being an IB student because I was nominated by all of the teachers to portray that aspect of the learner profile. In a slightly cultish but fun manner we all went up one by one and lit a candle before we talked about the learner profiles. The other IB students handed the incoming IB students flowers in a welcoming gesture. ...

This really is a case of saving the best for last. In February I went to Yellowstone on a photography mission where I followed coyotes, river otters, bison, elk, bighorn sheep and wolves for a week in the snow. I saved my best shot as a present for one of my very best friends. So here is the grand unveiling of my best shot: the coyote headshot. I got this close up headshot of a coyote when we were driving along the road and happened upon a coyote trotting down the middle of the road. ...

I was watching you at a track meet the other day. I didn’t really notice you until you crossed under the line where discus was being thrown and your mom had to come save you from being hit by a discus. I watched you for a while after that, you seemed very attached to you lollipop. You sat there watching the discus like your mom but I could tell you weren’t really watching, you were just trying to act like your mom. IT was very amusing actually. I hope you enjoyed your lollipop and the rest of the track meet. ...

This flower just looks like a big billow pillow to me. It looks so soft and welcoming I really loved it. I love flowers if you can’t tell from my other pictures. Flowers really just are fascinating because they remind me of people. No one is exactly the same, the come in different shapes, colors and sizes and each is beautiful in its own way.

He plays the piano Rocking back and forth Cradling each note Giving life But holding onto each For just a single moment Before it is released Sent out into the cold world To die or survive It all lay in fate’s hands Not his Not anymore The artist, the musician With starving eyes And frantic fingers He swayed With his head held back Listening to the birth Of each note As it sprung forth From nothingness But the barren plane of his soul He breathed life Into each ivory key As his fingers danced Playing a sad Yet beautiful song The song of the sirens Set out at sea The bewitching words Of a long forgotten curse The notes passed through His ragged body Each throb of his veins Pushed tired blood and music That begged for life And took everything From it’s living master A master who would die For his masterpiece With bleeding fingers Pressed against bone keys Each print left On the piano Left it’s bloodied print On his haunted soul But when the music Has finally left He has nothing Is nothing But a starving artist Deprived of paint He has nothing left He gave it all up For his sacred art His Bible of notes Gave his heart and soul And all else he could give But his ears to listen And his fingers to play As he cradled each new life And sent it away