stolen moments

Just when I thought my night was ready to wind down, my son tells me he has nothing for breakfast the next morning and that we're out of bread to make sandwiches for his school lunch.  To say that I was not pleased about having to go the store at 9 p.m. is an understatement.  I grabbed my keys and purse and stomped out of the house while grumbling all the way to the car. 

Once I arrived at the store, I grabbed a basket and continude my grumbling as I headed out for the items I needed.  Of course the items I need are on both ends of the store.  First I grabbed a loaf of bread on one side and then stomped my way to the other side of the store to the cereal aisle.  I located the requested box of Fruity Pebbles and tossed the box into my cart.  As I prepared to move on, in front of me was a couple, both easily in their 80s.  With their basket sitting in the middle of the aisle, they stood there arguing about which cereal to get and just listening to them made me smile.  

Now I have tell you, I have a thing for the elderly.  I mean, I really do.  If I had a choice of sitting in a room of my peers or a room of senior citizens, seniors win, hands down.  I want to sit with them and soak in as many life lessons from them as I can.  I miss my grandparents tremendously which is why I think I tend to gravitate to seniors so much.  Being near this couple made me miss them even more.   

As I stood there in the company of this sweet couple, my irritation instantly disappeared.  I grabbed my phone and took this photo as they finally decided on their cereal choice and made their way slowly down the aisle. It was my little gift to myself, a stolen moment just for me and I reminded myself that life is too short to sweat the small stuff, fruity pebbles and all.

Today, share your photos of stolen moment with us and let us have a peek inside, too. 

The Doing

"But the biggest mistake I made is one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less."

-Anna Quindlen

I often find myself pushing onto the next thing. Dinner, bath, book, bed. Or now that my kids are a little older-- homework, dinner, shower, bed. Seems like it's my job to keep things running at an even pace, to make sure things get done. There's a rhythm to this sort of living and all too often, we lock into it and POOF. Another day, week, month, gone. The truth is that mindful living takes some practice. Photography helps. But only if our minds are in the right place. It's easy to fire off a hundred shots and think: Done. Moment sufficiently captured. The key is to shoot thoughtfully, mindfully. To know when to pick the camera up and when to put it down. To drink in the whole scene while you're shooting, not just the visuals.

I'm not going to lie, friends. I'm guilty of mindless shooting. But I'm working on it, I am always working in it. When I shoot mindfully, the images I come away with feel like so much more than just images. I look at this photograph of my son Ezra and I remember everything about that day, that night. I remember how we laid on the trampoline, looked up at the sky and talked about the moon. I remember the way the evergreen trees looked, how the air smelled sweet like pine needles. I remember how our hair stood up on end from the trampoline's static electricity, I remember the way he laughed. I remember how the light changed from gold to blue, how he grabbed my hand as we walked back inside. I remember the mexican we had for dinner that night, the smudge of salsa on his cheek. I look at this photograph and I remember everything.

Which photograph of yours captures a moment just the way it was? And when you look at it, how much do you remember? Please, do share an image and a few words with us today. 

from the ground up

 I love how a picture can tell a story.  When I'm photographing something, I make a point to photograph not just the people, but those things that will help tell the story.   Last Sunday was my son's drumline competition and as I walked around getting photos from all angles, I made a point to shoot from the ground up.  Out of all of my photos from that shoot, this is my favorite.  To me, this photo epitomizes the whole day. Be it a pair of dancing shoes, sock encased baby feet or an intimate moment between a bride and groom, the story is all right there, no faces needed. 

Today, share with us your photos of an object or something other than a face that tells a story.  We'd love to see them. 

My Medicine

Last weekend, my son had and allergic reaction and went into anaphlyaxis.  I rushed him to the hospital where I was quickly pushed aside while an ER team immediately began working on him and ultimately, putting him on a ventilator. Once it was done and I could see even the doctor give a sigh of relief, my husband and I then awaited the arrival of the critical care team from our local children's hospital to transport him.  It was then that I began to document what was happening in photos.  I needed to.  I've said many times that my camera has been my saving grace. I couldn't do anything else at that time and it was the only thing I felt I had any control over. 

Fortunately, my son made a quick and complete recovery and once we were home, I uploaded my photos into a set on Flickr.  I wanted to share them and I was hesitant at first because I wasn't sure how people would respond to the rawness of the photos, but I wanted, needed, for others to see, to understand.   I then shared them on a Facebook allergy page that I follow regularly.  The owner of the page contacted me and asked if she could share them with others because she thought it was important to do so.  I said yes and didn't give it another thought. 

Immediately my inbox began filling up with messages from people all over the country that I did not know.  Some shared their similar stories with me, others just wanted to tell me that they were glad everything had turned out okay, but all of them thanked me for sharing my photos with them.  It was at that moment that I knew I did the right thing.  As of this writing, those 10 photos have been viewed over 4500 times. 

How many times have you taken a photo that really didn't mean much to you but to someone else it meant so much more?  How many times have you heard, Oh my gosh, I love that photo!  Can I have it?!  I've said many times that I believe everyone brings their own medicine to this world.  Next time one of your photos touches someone, take a moment and realize that perhaps your photography is your medicine, too. 

Today, share those photos that have may have been your medicine...to you or to someone else.

spring's spark

Coming fresh off of Easter weekend, I am feeling ignited by a surge of spring's spark. From blossoms to blooms, sweet treats to Easter eggs, family to festivities, it seems that everyone was savoring a little piece of this season.

Although I captured a number of pictures this past week, for my Best Shot Monday, I have chosen to share something that spoke of tenderness, courage and hope. Capturing the intimate intricacies of something like this tiny peach blossom with my new Olloclip (which has a macro option for my iPhone) makes me swoon. I do believe I have found yet another creative muse!

Now it's your turn to share your Best Shot today. We can't wait to see what captured your spirit (and your lens) this week.