Life Images by Gloria

08/14/2026

Deadline is Approacing!

08/14/2026

I have always loved that time of day when the sun gets low and the light becomes warm and golden.

But I don't go out looking for sunset photographs as often as I used to. Macular degeneration has made driving in low light difficult, so I've had to find other ways to enjoy photographing that beautiful evening light.

Then one evening I walked into my own backyard.

The sun was peeking through the red mandevilla blooms, illuminating them from behind and making them almost glow.

I grabbed my camera.

It was fun to see what I could create without driving anywhere at all.
Sometimes the beauty I am looking for isn't somewhere I have to go find.

Sometimes it's waiting for me right in my own backyard.
-Gloria

08/07/2026

Apply Now. sdcama.org

Artists who live in San Diego County are invited to apply to join the San Diego County Art Mart Association and show their work in beautiful Balboa Park.

Here’s what makes membership special:

• Juried artwork
• Art shows two weekends each month in Balboa Park
• Choose which show dates you want to participate in
• Only $100 annual membership fee
• No additional per-show fees!

Compared with the cost of participating in many art shows, this is an affordable way to regularly get your artwork in front of the public.

Application Deadline: September 10, 2026
Jury Date: Saturday, October 10, 2026

Interested in joining us?

For more information and application forms, visit sdcama.org.

And please share this with a San Diego County artist who might be looking for a place to show their work!

08/07/2026

08/04/2026

I’m spending a few days in Portland visiting a friend I’ve known since we were 13 years old.

We wandered through the Peninsula Park Rose Garden with nowhere we needed to hurry off to. Of course I took some photos.

First, it was the yellow roses that caught my eye.

They made me think of my mother and her passion for roses. Giving her roses always brought out this beautiful, fully expressed smile. There was no mistaking her joy.

Then I came across a pathway stretching out in front of us.

I’ve always been drawn to pathways.

And this time I was walking beside someone I’ve known since we were 13.

We certainly couldn’t have known back then where our paths would take us, or that all these years later we would still be walking one together.

A few days away.
A special friend.
Yellow roses that brought back my mother’s smile.
And a pathway still stretching ahead.

There was a lot to be grateful for in that one afternoon.
-Gloria

08/01/2026

https://www.sdcama.org

07/29/2026

I never really think of a photograph as finished until it finds the person it was meant for.
This photograph was captured at my favorite place along our coastline, La Jolla Cove.
It was early morning. The sun was just climbing above the horizon, glimmering across the ocean while three palm trees stood quietly between me and the water.

Last weekend, I watched this photograph begin a new chapter.

A man was walking past my booth when he suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"Hey!" he called to his partner. "I love this... and it's reasonably priced. I think we should get it."

I couldn't help but smile.

We talked for a few minutes about the photograph and what he loved about it. Then he decided it was going home with them.

As he walked away, he cradled the print in both arms as though it was something precious. He looked back at me with the biggest smile and said, "Thank you for creating something so beautiful for our home."

I stood there for a moment after they left feeling like now that photo was finally finished.

When I originally pressed the shutter that morning in La Jolla, I never imagined that one quiet sunrise would someday bring that much joy to someone else.

That's the part of this journey I treasure most.

If you've been looking for a piece of nature that makes you stop and breathe, I'd love to help you find one that feels like it belongs with you.
-Gloria

07/25/2026

There is something special about the morning of an art show.

I'm excited because I get to share my photographs with other people and see their reactions. I love hearing their comments and the stories that come flooding back because of an image.

I'll admit, though, that when people walk right past my booth without stopping, it's hard not to wonder if what I'm trying to share is reaching anyone.

Then someone pauses.

They stand quietly in front of a photograph. Sometimes they don't say anything for a while. Then they'll smile and softly say, "This reminds me of..."

That's my favorite part of the day.

Not because they've admired my photograph, but because for a few moments they've stepped back into a place they love, remembered someone they miss, or simply felt the peace that first drew me to press the shutter.

Those are the moments I carry home long after the booth is packed away.

07/22/2026

We stumbled upon the San Juan Sculpture Garden while we were visiting Washington, expecting a small collection of sculptures tucked into a small garden.

Instead, we found twenty acres of winding pathways through flowers, ponds, towering pines, and open spaces filled with every style of artwork imaginable. Some sculptures were beautifully realistic. Others were abstract or whimsical. Thought-provoking poetry appeared along the trails. It was a place that invited you to slow down and simply experience it.

As I walked those paths with my daughter and granddaughters, I found myself feeling proud of the artists. Not just because of their talent, but because of their courage.

They had chosen to bring their work out of the safety of their studios and place it where anyone could see it, admire it... or walk right past it.

I remember how difficult that felt when I first began showing my photography. I worried people would notice every imperfection or judge my technical ability instead of seeing what I was trying to share.

Over the years, something changed.

I've watched people wrap their arms around one of my photographs as if they were hugging an old friend. I've seen the smiles that appear when an image reminds them of a place they love or of a memory, they had almost forgotten.

In those moments, I realize they aren't looking for perfection. They're looking for something that helps them feel.