the connection

It all started with memories. I learned to use a camera because I wanted to capture memories, of where I had been and with whom I had shared my life.  For a long while, it seemed I was afraid I wouldn’t remember life without having a photograph to remind me.

As I learned more about photography, my goal transitioned to the moment.  It was the triumphant feeling of capturing a fleeting moment of an expression or of light, which drew me to bring the camera to my eye. I no longer needed to capture every memory, but watched for the right moments.

Over time, my motivations shifted again; shifted deeper.  One day, I noticed I was no longer capturing images to remember or to freeze time, but to feel. I had discovered photography as a form of self-expression. I was learning more about myself through my images. I was expressing my true self in photographs, in a deep and soul-satisfying way.

Photography brought me from memories… to moments… to me.

What I had discovered was a heart connection with some of my images; they expressed feelings I had not yet put into words. I found the stronger my heart connection with an image, the more likely others would connect with the image too. More than just connecting with an image, though, others also began connecting with me: The real me, the part that is often difficult to see.

These days, the heart connection is what I seek in my photography. To express a feeling is my purpose and motivation when I pick up my camera, more than the memories and the moments. When I share my vision of the world, I want it to be the vision that expresses who I am at heart. And through my heart connection with my images, I want to connect with others. I want to find kindred spirits who express themselves through their images. I want to know those who seek a heart connection too.

This year, I’ve started a new project called Photo-Heart Connection, to deepen my practice of photography. At the beginning of each month, I will be looking through my images from the previous month and finding the one image which brings me the strongest heart connection. I’ll write about it, learn from it. The exercise will force me to pause for a moment, contemplate my direction and reaffirm the expression I am seeking through my photographs. Each time I pause to do this, my photo-heart connection will deepen. I think yours will too, so I’m inviting you to join me, sharing your strongest photo-heart connection each month with a community of like-minded photographers. Our first link up will be February 1.

Today I encourage you to consider your photo-heart connection. Do you have an image which comes to mind, as an expression of your heart? Share it here, and start the connection.

Image and words courtesey of Guest Blogger Kat Sloma of Kat Eye Studios.

Telling Stories

 That's me up there, sitting on my Mother's lap. It's one of my most favorite photos of my Mom and I.  She would have been just a little younger than I am now.

There's a story behind every photograph captured, every snapshot stolen from a moment in time.  I look at this photo, now through a mother's eyes, and wonder what her story was when this was taken.

It's fascinating to think about where our own photos will end up, forty or fifty years from now. Will somebody, somewhere, look at an image we've captured and wonder about the person in the frame? What they were thinking, feeling, doing in that exact moment?  Perhaps it's a love of photography that leads me to also wonder about the person behind the lens. I wonder why it was they chose to capture a certain moment, a certain scene, a certain someone. I wonder what they were trying to tell me.

Holding this snapshot in my hands, a bit weathered with age, its paper curling from its backing, I make a wish that someday, somebody will do the same with a photograph of my own.  I hope they wonder about the stories I've been telling.

Today, please share with us your photos that tell a story. 

Image and post courtesy of the awesome Janice Squires, who many of us know and love from her blog Two Scoopz.

savoring motherhood

I did all the right things. I read all the books. I watched all the videos. I took all the classes. I went to prenatal yoga classes religiously, took walks with my husband, and daydreamed with him about how we were going to have the “happiest baby on the block.” I savored every minute of my pregnancy and was excited to do the same with our newborn.

We were ready. Or so we thought.

Then she arrived and everything we thought we knew flew out the window. Night was day and day was night. I felt as if the life I once knew was a distant memory and now I was navigating new and very foreign territory. I wouldn’t have traded my new life for the old one, but those early days were hard. Very hard.

Several weeks after Sadie was born, I realized that I had been in a deep fog. While I was wallowing in the exhaustion, she was growing and changing. And I had missed it.

Yes, this has been one of the most difficult times in my life, but I don’t want to lose sight of how wondrous and amazing it is. I want to savor it because it will be gone before I know it.

Never in my life have I been so aware of the passage of time. Becoming a mother has amplified my need to preserve memories. At seven weeks old, I am floored by how fast Sadie is growing. Sometimes, it feels like she changes from minute to minute. She’ll wake up from a nap and I swear she’s gained three pounds. Every morning, I wake up to find a new baby.  

And so I do what I always do when I want to savor a moment in time: I pick up my camera. And when I do, I see for the first time what has been there all along: chubby hands, tiny ruffles, soft skin, itty-bitty shoes, little toes, wise eyes, first smiles, and a whole lot of love.

Yes, in the topsy-turvy life with a newborn, my camera helps me savor the simple moments and remember what is most important.

Share with us the kinds of moments you are savoring this season.

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Darrah Parker is giving away one spot in the Slice of Life Project, a 6-week photography e-course that will help you savor the details of your everyday life. Leave a comment for a chance to win a spot in the winter session, starting February 6.

For more information about Darrah, visit her website. For more information about her e-course, visit the Slice of Life Project web page.

Connection in Community

There are these ties that bind us to our outside world. Sometimes they're tangible. Like a phone call from a friend or an unexpected visit from a family member. All straight-forward events, rather predictable. But there are other bonds, less obvious ones, connecting us in an invisible web of community stretching far from our homes. Take this one for example. You are more than likely reading this blog because of your love of photography, but if you're like me, you return again and again for the special glimpses we get into one another's lives through the daily posts and the various theme groups…and of course the thrill and chance of having your photo featured.

But I've found that there's something more, something bigger, something exciting that takes place when we go from just visiting a group anonymously to engaging with it fully. When we take one little step in its direction, magic begins to happen. You see, I've found that by reaching out, even when it seemed uncomfortable or strange or weird, that my world expanded growing in unimaginable directions. It certainly didn't happen overnight, but slowly I've found myself with a new circle of friends, female photography friends, which as we all know aren't necessarily living down the street. And as my circle increased, something unexpected happened, I found my confidence in my photography grew stronger, my focus deepened, and I found a calm within myself that hadn't existed before. The energy we shared collectively seemed to augment one another's skills. And sometimes, someone who'd seemed unapproachable to me, because they were further along in a journey I wished to emulate, would be willing to respond if I took the time to reach out to them.

Over the past year, I've been able to shift my community out of cyberspace and into face-to-face encounters with these incredible women. From Frankfurt, Germany to Monterey, CA from to New York City to my hometown of Philadelphia, I've been fortunate enough to attend several meetups that a year ago I could never have imagined. I've gone from meeting these women in person to shoving up against one another while barefoot on the beach to get just the right shot…from where we stood! But that's just what has happened. I felt honored and delighted at my reception, and a little amazed at how it all unfolded. And all because I reached out, taking one, little tippy toe step at a time.

How about you? Have you felt the magic of community? What relationships and bonds have you formed lately? Today, share with us your images of connection.

Image (shot with a Lensbaby) and post courtesy of the awesome Holly Clark, who many of us know and love as Soupatraveler.

Notes from the Middle

It’s 6:33.  In the morning, not the evening.  And I'm sitting at my computer.  I’m not usually up this early by choice, but it’s the first morning after camp and something is different.  I’m different.  That’s the wonderful thing about experiences like this.  They change you.  They make you jump out of bed by choice at an ungodly (to me) hour of the morning to write things down, because you don’t want to forget…  

Most mornings, I hear the door of the boys’ room open and realize it’s still dark outside.   My first thought of the day is “It’s time to get up already?  Why couldn’t they sleep just a little longer so mommy could get a little more rest?”  Then comes the part where they climb into the bed, get under the covers, all poky knees and sharp elbows.  The bed immediately shrinks to the size of a postage stamp.  They cuddle close, searching for my body heat because the trek from their bed to mine has left their feet cold (very, very cold) and my skin is oh, so warm.  As they get comfortable, I feel the taking of me begin.  The taking that happens when you’re a parent to young children and your needs don’t come first anymore.  I guess this is what they meant when they said “parenting is the most self-less act in the world.  Don't do it until you're ready to give all of you to your kids”.

But today.  Today is different.  I’ve been away from them for 3 mornings. I’ve been inspired by the amazing women at Camp and their practice of shooting through gratitude, shooting with intention and shooting what you love.  I’ve been thinking about my passion for shooting life as it is right now, in this very moment.  I’ve been thinking about story and how even that seems too big for me.  Stories have a beginning, a middle and an end.  But that is too long for me, too drawn out.  Because sometimes, when I think about the whole story, it overwhelms me.  It reminds me that the BEGINNING of the week started off frenzied, with too many things on my to do list.  And I immediately just want to get to the END so that I can finally exhale.  What I’m finally realizing (thank you camp sisters) is that I leave no room in my life for the MIDDLE.  The right here, the right now.  When I’m focused on the END and just want to get there, I miss everything in the MIDDLE.  It's all a chore and I just want to get it over with so I can get to the END, to my prize.  I know in my heart that the END never really comes.  There's always a new BEGINNING, and a new END.  But isn’t the MIDDLE where the good stuff happens?  Where the joy is?  What am I missing by ignoring the MIDDLE?

Making this connection, right now at 7:07 in the morning, is blowing my mind.  My Mind = Blown.

This morning, when I heard the boys’ door open, a small smile crept onto my face.  I heard their quick, heavy footsteps and felt warm.  Warmer than my blankets could ever make me feel.  When they cuddled into me, I reached out and pulled them even closer.  I welcomed the feel of their skin against mine, regardless of how cold it was.  I listened as their breathing became rhythmic.  I breathed them in and wondered how I could capture this moment with my camera.  How I could remember that this morning, instead of thinking about how tired I was from getting to bed late and how many things there were on my to do list, I thought only about the good in that single moment in time.  And how blissful it felt.  How grateful I felt for my life.  For that moment.  In the MIDDLE.  

That is my passion.  Capturing the stuff in the MIDDLE.  The stuff that gets lost when you think about the BEGINNING and the END of the story.

That is what I learned at Camp and I don't want to forget.

What about you? Share a glimpse of what it looks like to be present and content in the middle?

Image and post Camp Shutter Sisters story courtesy of the awesome Wendy Tienken.