One of my in-betweens lives on the counter — a ceramic bridge between the philosophical, the spiritual, and the very real world of morning coffee.

The yellow mug — the one that says BAT SHIT CRAZY — came into my life a few years ago. I was living in the Shenandoah Valley then, and the photo is from our deck there. An old love came back from a business trip and handed it to me. Big, bold letters.

I’m sure she thought she was getting a jab in.

I thought she was confessing.

Looking back, we were probably both a little right. I’m grateful for all the years that shaped me — even the ones that didn’t last.

This past August, for my birthday, a sweet young neighbor — someone who models for and assists me from time to time — gave me the larger black mug. She and a friend made it just for me. It’s become my daily cup. I only allow myself one coffee a day… so naturally the cup is bigger now. The next step is a bucket (just kidding, doc).

That mug sits with me during the quiet-quiet time — the space between stillness and motion — when I’m easing out of prayer, reflection, and breath, teetering with creativity, and into the part of the day where I start picking at whatever the world has set down in front of me.

My friend and fellow photographer John Karratti has a similar mug. Mine reminds me who I am as I ease into the day. I’m sure his does something similar.

These cups aren’t just cups. They’re two chapters of the same story.

The first is chaos.

The second is purpose.

Years ago, on a post over on my Facebook ShutterBatte page, a friend from my hometown dropped the hashtag #BatteShitCrazy in the comments. I loved it instantly.

And I think that’s why this odd little blog title works.

Batte Shoot Crazy isn’t about being unhinged. It’s about letting pieces fall together, and learning to aim the wild parts of yourself at something that matters.

Not killing the chaos — just pointing it toward something true.

I’m not showing something to you.

I’m standing beside you, nudging you, saying, “lookit that.”

These mugs remind me that we don’t always change who we are.

Sometimes, we just change how we hold it.