Today’s focus was photographing a loved one doing ‘what they do’ – in my case, that was Gem completely in awe of everything she discovers.
Today’s challenge was using natural light, and capturing the catchlights (the little bits of reflected light) in your subject’s eyes. Of course, my challenge was the same challenge I have every day – keeping up with Gem enough to capture her face. I’ve got hard drives full of photos of the sides and back of her head. The girl does not have time sit for portraits, she’s got some exploring to do.
Oooh! There’s her face. Of course it’s backlit…
Then she was done. Just like that. No more discovering, she wanted a hug. I held the camera out at arms length to grab a shot of that hug, and finally caught the ever-so-faint catchlights in her eyes.
I was running late for a meeting, but I just had to stop and capture a couple shots of this sunset. I pulled over alongside the lake, rolled down the passenger-side window, and clicked away.
As I continued on my way to the meeting, the sunset intensified. Each time I pulled through an intersection, the break between buildings revealed a different sky, full of different colors. It was changing by the second. This was during rush hour traffic. I was looking around for a place to pull over so I could catch some more shots when I pulled off on a side street – and in to gridlock. The sunset, of course, completely blocked by the concrete monstrosity of a building where the road curved in front of me. Now, not only was I late for the meeting, I didn’t get that additional shot I was looking for, and I was trapped in place by traffic. Crap.
It occurred to me at this point that the sunset was not there to stress me out, or even for me to “capture” on film; it was there to bless my day. At that moment, a spot opened up for me to pull a U-turn and get back on my way, and the next break between buildings revealed the Space Needle, backlit by a fully fuchsia sky. Breathtaking. And just for me. I did not capture that shot of the sunset, but it did bless my day.
This has been an amazing week, full of wonderful news and new opportunities. Much of it I can’t discuss just yet. As if full-time school, cancer treatment, and motherhood were not enough, I’ve had a few writing gigs come my way as well. I’m stealing this idea from The Bloggess and creating a regular post that will link to some of my other writing on a (hopefully) regular basis, as well as drawing your attention to other creators of awesomeness on the web.
Me: As seen on…
Goodies: Five Fabulous (and Inspirational) Bloggers – I was asked to highlight 5 amazing bloggers, and when I did, I used the opportunity to describe one of the coolest literary events I have ever experienced.
Awesome people who mentioned me (or linked to me) in their posts this week
The Pioneer Woman: Daisy the Dog – I love the Pioneer Woman, but I usually don’t highlight her because she already gets more hits than Google. However, this post reminded me of the cow I had when I was a kid. The one with the oh-so-clever name of Milky, who then calved, and I assigned the even-less-original moniker of Calfy for her offspring. Yeah, my naming skills have improved since then. No, Milky and Calfy did not have this much access to the house.
It took me a while to stop laughing – I mean, there’s not much that does contribute to my writing these days.
And then I gave the question a second look. Is that really true? The things that consume my time and my life – primarily my family and my health, but the little things as well, like laundry and what’s for dinner – get in the way of my writing. They also inform and inspire my writing.
Reducing the time and energy I spend on my family is out of the question. The new normal that is life impacted by cancer dictates that my health must remain a high priority – perhaps that should have been the case all along. Nobody wants me to stop doing laundry – ok, well maybe those of you who only interact with me online may not care, but the population of our area code might. There’s really not much fat to trim.
Oh, you mean all that time I spend on the internet – specifically on facebook? And the TV, too?
Ok, I guess I do have a little down time here and there. But – yes, there’s a but, there’s always a but – my TV and internet time inform and inspire my writing as well. Most of the time, my brain is buzzing with new ideas and perspectives I want to explore and discuss – ideas and perspectives gained through my interactions with these media. My house is full of little scraps of paper on which I scribbled little nuggets of brilliance for future rumination and dissertation.
The rumination I’m good at; I looooooove me a good think. Research makes my fingertips tingle, and my heart race with giddiness. Translating all that brain power into a post? nerve-wracking.
Writing is a declaration, a commitment. Fear of commitment does impact my writing practice. I can mull ideas in my head, comparing them to other ideas, and holding them up to the light without fear of rejection. I have yet to hit the publish button on my blog without experiencing a racing pulse, and a bit of anxiety.
So why do I blog? Why don’t I just keep all those delicious ponderings to myself? Once again, the TV informs my writing: my daughter is watching “Horton Hears a Who” as I type. At this moment in the movie, the Whos are shouting for their lives, “WE ARE HERE!” I imagine all the bloggers of the world, furiously typing away at their keyboards, and the subtext of their carefully chosen and intricately woven prose is the same existential declaration: “We are here!”
Of course, I’m projecting; I can only speak for myself. Pondering my own mortality certainly feeds the need to declare my existence. But it’s more than that; I started my first blog in 2001, 9 years before I was diagnosed with cancer, and 7 years before I found out I was going to be a mom. Long before I felt the urgent need to create a record of myself for my daughter, I was compelled to leave my mark on the world through my writing. The urge to write began when I learned to read.
Despite the urge, I still go day after day without writing. I compose entire essays and posts in my mind as I go about my day, while simultaneously washing the oatmeal from between my daughters toes (no, I don’t know how it got there), and weighing the pros and cons of returning to school in January (I just registered), but when I sit down at the computer my mind goes blank. The prose sings in the amorphous space between my ears, but loses it’s voice as I try to pin it to paper.
I know I’m not alone in this; it’s a common issue for writers.
I also know the cure: Writing anyway, despite the fact that I know the words falling from my fingers are all wrong. Fear seeps in as my fingers hang over the keyboard, hesitating, afraid that what comes out will never measure up to what resides inside. So what if it doesn’t? “There is no such thing as great writing, only great re-writing.” I know this on a logical level, but it takes practice to remind my fingers. I need to stop being judgmental with myself, and I need to write despite the urge to hesitate.
“Writing makes a person very vulnerable. It opens you to public criticism, to ridicule, to rejection. But it also opens conversation and thought. It stirs minds, and touches hearts. It brings us into contact with our souls. So how can it possibly be a waste of time, an idle act, a mistake, a betrayal of truth? Who can possibly tell us not to do it?”
Today is 10/10/10 and I spent a good portion of it coloring.
With crayons.
In a coloring book.
It surprised me how much I enjoy coloring.
It is so calming to spend a few minutes moving a crayon across the paper. I especially love coloring books; I don’t even have to think of what to draw, I just relax and turn off my brain for a few minutes. And I’m so happy afterward.
I really need to do this more often.
What brings you joy?
P.S. I still think that white crayon is mostly useless.
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