a gift in a gift

 

At a recent gathering I was approached by a bright-eyed teen who was looking for some guidance about getting into photography. What school to go to, what classes to take, what kind of job to look for, if jobs were readily available, etc. I didn’t really know what to tell her as it has been years since I was there—the world at my feet, the endless possibilities of which road to travel down and the giddy anticipation of where to go and how to get there. Mind you, endless possibilities still exist for me now; they just look a little different at 40 than they did at 20.

My message to her in a nutshell was there are no right or wrong answers to her questions. She said wasn’t convinced that a career in photography was her end goal but that it was something she loved doing and knew it could be a career if she choose to pursue it. Indeed. Of course, I encouraged her to take classes and learn as much as she could as she explored her options. It certainly can’t hurt. No matter which way her path leads her, spending time developing her photography skills is something she’ll never regret and most likely always use. This is true for anyone with a passion for the medium.

If there is one thing I have heard affirmed here at Shutter Sisters in post after post and comment after comment is that photography is a creative gift where the satisfaction of distilling a single fleeting moment in a picture is reward enough to keep us clicking, creating, learning and growing as photographers, paid or otherwise. There is a gift to be had by being behind the camera. And at the same time there is a gift we are offering our subjects through the photos we take.

I shot the image featured today this past weekend of a family that I have had the pleasure of working with since before their youngest son (far right) was even born. That I have had the honor of getting to know them and to watch and photograph these children as they grow with each passing year is a gift to me for certain. And I know that what I offer via their annual portraits is also a gift…a gift to this family. There is no question because their mother (a client whom I now call friend) tells me again and again.

Every minute I have spent in my life shooting photos, learning more, pushing myself creatively for work or for play has been time and energy well spent and there is simply nothing more gratifying than that.

seeing me

I look at this photo and I see me. I really see me.

I see who I am and also who I want to be.

I see a 40 year old and a 10 year old.

I see my vulnerability and courage as I open myself, arms stretching out like wings.

I see my joy in being present and yet the motion of moving ahead.

I see myself, through the eyes of a sister-friend who sees me as I hope the world sees me. As I hope to always see myself.

If you don’t already have a photo that shows you as you; who you were, who you are, who you are becoming, I challenge you to ask a photographer friend to give you the gift . In turn, you can do the same for them. I guarantee you won’t regret it. And if you have a photo that really shows us sometihng about you, please share it today.

Stories from Rwanda: Love Waiting at the End of A Dirt Road

 

"How long do you think it will take before I start to feel better?"  I ask my neighbor Nick as he makes dinner for my little urban family.  I am supposed to be helping, but all I can do is walk circles through the house, thinking of my recent trip to Rwanda and all the stories still swirling in my head.

"I think it will take awhile," he says gently, not wanting to disappoint me, but wanting to tell me the truth.  As my soul brother he knows my heart is wrecked as much from the happiness of being there as the sorrow of coming home.  I wander between our houses trying to remember what I used to do before experiencing so much love in that tiny village, in that sweet family--the home of my dearest friend Odette.  I wonder why I am here and not there.  I wonder if there is any place on earth as sacred or as real.  I sift through a thousand pictures, each one drawing me close into its memory, each one keeping me safe while my soul tries to make sense of this experience.

Who could have guessed so much joy, so much love lies waiting at the end of a dirt road?

I would like to beg you, as well as I can, to have patience, Rilke said, with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language.  Don't search for answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

I hope you will find the courage today to live your truest questions and that one image will be your touchstone as you give yourself over to everything unresolved in your heart.   I am telling stories of love, resilience, acceptance and hope from Rwanda everyday on my blog.  Feel free to leave your links to the images that inspire you to take a risk in the comments below.   Or better yet, why not your favorite image of a long and winding road?

MamaFocus Monday

The big winner of the MamaFocus Photo Contest (a la our collaboration with Mamazine)  is this wonderful shot by Iyoyome. YAY!

There were so many stellar submissions, I urge you to take a peek at the pool and see for yourself. Good stuff.

Speaking of stellar submissions, check out  the rest of the winners of the contest-

I wish i had more arms...or wings... by kimthemidwife - first runner up

After the Migraine by Camera Shy Momma -second runner up 

Sun Spinning by SouleMama- third runner up

Such great images ladies! Congratulations to you talented Shutter Mamas! It's always nice to win fabu prizes for your efforts, don'tcha think?

And since we're on the topic of mamas (albeit totally off the subject of photography), today the brilliant Brene Brown of Ordinary Courage begins an unprecidented series for parents based on her life's work, "The Gifts of Imperfect Parenting-raising our children with courage, compassion and connection." I had the pleasure of listening to the just released CD of the same name and I will tell you IT IS REMARKABLE! A must have for any parent--any person for that matter! Seriously. It's life-changing stuff but it's delivered in the most approachable, hopeful way. Don't just take my word for it...check out Brene's blog today as she begins her series. And get the CD.

Go. Now. Read. Be enlightened.

Life's a Blur

Each September begins the familiar routine. The slow and steady flow of school, homework and extra-circular activities that little by little as the months pass, begins to feel more like a river than a stream only to have the damn break in June to a force that can make it difficult for even the mightiest of moms to remain standing. That’s where I’m at right now; struggling against the current, getting swept up in the spin cycle that is the end of the school year machine.

Through the years I have come to expect this recurring ebb and flow so it’s not a huge surprise and on good days, I feel fairly on top of it. Even still this year, more than ever, I am reeling. As the school year comes to an end in a flurry of fun and excitement I recognize that it’s not only these last few weeks that are a blur, it’s my daughter’s childhood. Both of my daughters for that matter. The milestones this year feel larger than life as one will soon begin Middle School and the other Kindergarten. Sigh. I know what this is about. It’s the familiar melancholy of motherhood, the passing of time and the growing of the little parts and pieces of my children that remind me that they are getting older. That I am getting older. That they won’t be mine forever.

As I cheer them on and reassure them that the next chapter will be as rich and full as the last, I will also have to acknowledge (and quietly dismiss) that little whisper inside myself that is urging me not to let them go. The very voice that pleads in desperation with Father Time to show mercy on me and stop the clock if only long enough for me to hold on to my children a little longer.

Where are you these days? How do you see your life right now? Do you have certain photographs that express this exact moment in time for you?