In the first scene of the movie Don Juan Demarco, Don Juan, played by Johnny Depp is in the midst of seducing a woman in a restaurant. It's not that he's so good looking, although he is pretty sweet, but rather the he truly loves women, and he can see the special gift that each woman has to give him. What woman could help but be seduced by this?

In a way, I think of myself as a Don Juan, not so much in my abilities to seduce (if only it were so) but rather in that I can see the beauty in every man and every woman. Even better, I like to tell people what I see in them because they are invariably surprised that someone noticed that special something. Sure, people compliment clothing, work, and whatever on a daily basis. But when was the last time someone noticed that you have a gift for using color in your home? Or that you can really listen to someone, without having a list of things to say whirling through your head? Or that you are joyful about life even when you are in pain, and it would be understandable if you were crabby. What I see and say is not flattery or obfuscation, but a genuine appreciate of gifts. And my personal mission has come out of this, in validating others by telling them of these gifts.

I see photography in the same way. So many people say they are "unphotogenic." I always counter that there are no unphotogenic people, only bad photographers. I first started noticing the art of photography when those Soloflex advertisements came out in the early 1980's. It was the first time that men's bodies were photographed as the beautiful instruments that they are. Black and white shadows of men with rippling stomachs and bedroom eyes. Long lashes and sensual lips. I had never seen men portrayed as beautiful and it took an exercise equipment advertisement to open my eyes.

Where is the beauty in you? Is it on the outside like the men in those ads, or is more of it in the inside - like most of us who don't possess bedroom eyes?

How we "frame" our looks is a metaphor for how we frame our past. I am in the process of re-framing three things in my life. The me that's mostly done is this. My friend Michael has told me on more than one occasion that I'm not acting like a "lady." He's right of course. In my mind a lady is passive. A lady sits in the parlor gossiping and nibbling on crumpets when she could be out in the world letting her voice be heard and giving those crumpets to the food shelf. A lady gives up her own needs to make others happy, when she could make herself and others much happier not by being a martyr, but by opening her heart and mind to the power of life. A lady is concerned with politeness and niceness, but a woman cares about pain, love, passion, fear, and joy.

I'm not a lady, I am a woman. I am also sometimes a "bawdy broad," one who is joyful in her passion, her sexuality, her choice of living unfettered by the false ties of being a "lady" or any other label that limits the spirit. This is the beauty in me, I know.

In the same way, I have looked at my career. So many jobs, all so short lived. It is some great Achilles heal in me? That's the haunting question. When I did a little analysis of all the jobs I've held, I could see that it was not so much a failure to stick with one job as it was a process of finding the right career, the right milieu, the right responsibilities, the right location. When I finally found all these things, I stayed.

The thing I have just begun to reframe is the paradigm of my love life. My life took a sharp turn with a love affair a few years ago. I didn't know that anyone could experience a love that deep. I didn't know, for 36 years, that such a thing even existed. Yes, I had been in love, had lovers, had loved here and there. But never a buffet like this, piled high with tender meats, creamy sauces, sweet desserts, crisp salad - and light reflecting through a battalion of bubbling liquids.

I just had no idea.

I came to have a paradigm shift in my own mind about not only what was possible in the realm of love, but what I wanted and expected. No longer am I satisfied with casual loves, who I might mourn for a few days and then move on. I want more. I want to look again into a man's eyes and see all the way down deep - to the dark interior where there are no fears, no self - just soul. I want to see in without walls and without the talk and activities and everything that builds up those walls just so we can function in our lives.

So this thing, this paradigm shift, is one that I haven't internalized yet. I haven't found my peace with the incongruity of this as compared with the fast food of my love affairs prior. No, it hasn't manifested again, and it may be that will have to accept all those future nights with a mystery novel instead of a "friendly" style love, accepted just to pass the time.

I have discovered that life is a reflection of the choices I've made all along the way, the big ones like staying in Vermont, and the little ones like using a trackball mouse instead of a regular one. Sometimes I made choices that came out differently than I expected, but even then I stayed with things as they evolved. I have a strong sense of creating the world around me to fit my needs, rather than me fitting into the world. So I have a livingroom without no couch because I wanted a big office where I could look out at the autumn leaves or in at my collection of toy cash registers.

It's along the same lines as when Meg Ryan, in the movie When Harry Met Sally, orders her lunch meal exactly as she wants it, with this on the side and that not included. She and I are high-maintenance goers; we want the meal to suit our needs and we believe that we have a right to that because we are paying for it. On a larger level, we believe in creating our lives the way we want them, not off the rack. I feel that I deserve my life to fit my own needs. The other day I had a skirt shortened and had the extra fabric made into a scarf. Some friends commented that they never would have done that - somehow I guess they thought the manufacturer knew better than they did about what they wanted. I crop my photos with a paper cutter when they aren't framed well, much to the horror of my friends who think of every photo as inviolable. But I only want to preserve the best, the most special photos for the future. Why keep the chaff, when it only dilutes the drama of the one most dramatic and meaningful photograph?

I do these things because I believe that each of us makes choices every day that either reflect faith and self determination, or they reflect being a victim - of clothing, of photos, of whatever. I am "high" maintenance in that I am actually engaged, mentally and emotionally, in almost everything I do. What kind of skirts I will or will not wear. Which kind of linguini I will buy. What pen I will use to draft this column. What music is on when I drive to New Hampshire. What kind of mysteries I read. I make these decisions, big and small with equal measure. The result is a life that largely reflects my dreams and goals, my needs for solitude and organization, and my confidence that what I need tomorrow will be in place tonight.

I believe that the life I have created is indeed my own creation, mine and God's. It is the physical manifestation of what I am imaging for myself. And if I don't like it - it's because I have allowed distractions and other people's pressures to distract me from my focus. If my love life is ambivalent, it simply reflects my own ambivalence about love and commitment. And yet my strong and healthy body also reflects the absolute commitment that I have to my workout plan. No ambivalence there. Not that there are no other factors affecting things, but we are the primary force of creation - we and spirit - and we are spirit.

I have faith though that God would not have given me this gift, this vision of what things could be if there weren't someone out there who could take me again to that immense buffet. I am re-framing this experience. I am finding the beauty and acceptance in my own experience, even as I find the beauty in each person that I photograph. I am the photographer of my own life and will choose to set up the lights so that I can see the glow that comes from each person's soul. I am not a lady, I am Joan of Arc; I am a photographer, I am a bawdy broad; I am a woman, I am what I choose.