Magenta

I never thought I would be a part of the Pink Sisterhood but on May 24 of 2011 diagnosed with Stage 3A breast cancer, I joined the club.  A sore left breast and a swollen lymph node led to 2 needle biopsies, a lumpectomy, 8 wicked chemo treatments, 5days a week for 7 weeks of radiation and a lot of photos.

I have been told many times that I am not your typical breast cancer patient and I think that’s true.  I didn’t let the word Cancer or being sick beat me. I attacked it head on with my camera in hand!  My camera has been my partner in crime since I was a child and it's always helped me through the ups and downs life throws at me. My passion for photography is what helped me through this journey and what will continue to help me. 

I never thought pink was my color until my diagnoses but since then, I have been wearing more pink and playing with pink in my images. The stencil art on 7th Avenue in Manhattan stated exactly what I feel; "Art is my Weapon".  Photography is my weapon. I added a pink color tint to it to really represent me right now. My photography has helped me heal and will continue to do so.  As long as I can continue to take photos I will do so as my weapon against the bad stuff in life.  

Let’s make a statement today with bright, bold, beautiful pink and shoot images featuring the brilliant shade called Magenta! Don't forget to tag your photos with #sscolormonth. and add them to the OWP pool on Flickr. 

Image and words by our guest blogger, the courageous Darlene Cannup. 

rose-colored glasses

I headed out for a photo walk around my neighborhood today, wandering the cherry tree lined streets.  There is something about the act of walking even only a few blocks in search of photos that always shifts things for me.

When I go on these walks I feel like I put on my rose colored glasses and become a treasure hunter of beauty.  Today I find it in cherry blossoms that have fallen from the tree and their soft delicate petals.

No matter what else is going, when I make this space to wander, take pictures and look for beauty, it re-energizes me like nothing else does.   It invites me to slow down, to engage with the light and the natural world around me.  This practice of seeking beauty with my camera has been a lifeline from darkness to light.

When I first began exploring photography I was going through some drastic life changes.  I knew the way I had been living wasn’t working for me anymore.  I was living for everyone else and not for myself.

So I reverted into a cocoon for a while, craving even more time alone than my usual introvert self needed.  I wanted to be alone and figure out who I was separate from all the outside perceptions.

I went in search.  I didn’t know how to find what I needed or even that photography would lead me there.  It was just something I could do in which there was peaceful yet creative time alone.  I knew that was the first clue to finding my way back to myself and to happiness, simply because of the way it made me feel.

I went in search of beauty and when you go in search of beauty, you find it.

At times it seems like we aren’t supposed to tell our stories with rose colored glasses, muting out the rough in favor of the radiant, the flowery, the beautiful.  Yet looking for the positive, for little bits of beauty, isn’t denying that life has rough patches: that there are broken branches or muddy puddles around those gorgeous pink blossoms.  Rather, it is a way to focus on what is positive even if times are rough (especially when they are).  That doesn’t mean denying the rough patches, but rather using photography as a tool to engage with the world around us in a way that lifts us up. 

Even these years later, I’m doing the same thing I did when this creative journey began, seeking bits of beauty.

You could say that seeing the world through rose-colored glasses is what saved and transformed my life. Seeing the beauty around me helped me find my way back to happiness again and to discover the beauty within me by documenting the beauty around me.

Will you join me today in documenting some of the beauty around you?  Let’s put on our rose-colored glasses and go treasure hunting for beauty.  Be it a flower petal, a person you love, or the beauty you see in yourself today?

Image and words by guest blogger Vivienne McMaster.

my way of processing

 

When I talk on the phone, I walk, I pace, I wander. Being a very animated person I guess this makes sense. When I express myself, I use my entire body to do it. I notice this is especially true when I’m discussing something creative or when I'm brainstorming or when I’m processing.

The other day I was on the phone with a dear friend. We were having a major heart to heart discussion, as good friends do. It wasn’t unusual that I was walking the perimeter of my back yard. Pacing back and forth across the grass, talking, listening, processing. What was a little curious was that I was also shooting.

Yes, I hear what you’re saying.

Click.

Do you know what I mean?

Click.

Good point, I would have never thought of that.

Click.

I didn't really think anything of it until days later when I processed the photos and thought about what I was processing within myself at the time I clicked the shutter.

In a later conversation with that same friend, I asked her if she knew I was shooting photos while I was talking with her. She didn’t realize at the time but laughed at the thought of it and affirming that it didn’t surprise her at all. She knows that's how I do it. I work through things through photography.

I have discovered over the years how much the art of photograph helps me process my thoughts, ideas and emotions. How the very practice of seeing and shooting helps me make sense of whatever it is I’m going through in both my successes and struggles. Photography, time and time again saves me; in little ways and in big ways but most of all in ways that soothe my very soul.

My Best Shot Monday is one that was captured in my back yard during that conversation with my friend.

Share with us what you discovered this week in your Best Shot.

In Pursuit of Light

In a forum such as this one where people gather and connect about their shared love for photography it’s no wonder to me that there’s a running conversation about the value of light. As photographers it’s what we do. We search for light and we seek to capture any bit of it that enchants us. Sometimes it’s about replicating a feeling or documenting a moment and other times it’s about creating a new one. However you view your photography, your camera may be the brush, but it’s the light that you mix on your pallet.

Some people I know, are moved by melody; others by prose. More still, by taste, style or sense of place. Of course any combination of these in the right dose and application hold meaning for me, but nothing touches my soul like the sun. My love affair with the stuff (and consequently my roller coaster relationship with darkness) started before I ever picked up a camera, though. 

Every door I walk through, the first thing I see is how the light enters the space. If I'm coming to visit you, don't waste your  time cleaning up, just draw open the blinds. The corner of a room where sunlight gets caught fascinates me, and golden glowing edges of cheekbones or jars are the things of my dreams.

I know exactly where the sun falls on my sofa at every hour during every season and nothing makes me more melancholy than august evenings when the light begins to fade and I know what lies ahead.

Scientifically it’s a thing—this need for the ultraviolet. For those of us who are afflicted, there’s a piece missing and we are at risk during winter’s shorter days. Here’s where the camera comes in for me.  I’ve learned to get through those darker days by absorbing every ounce of sunlight I possibly can and drawing it up to the surface when I feel the weight bear down. 

I collect the light with my camera. It exists in my computer and in print for me to inject directly into my mood as needed. I walk through days of usual and ordinary and I see things that are anything but. Light becomes a commodity and it takes on shapes and forms that can brighten even the darkest days. 

I know I'm not alone in this need for light. Those of us who make photographs, we feed on it. Vitamins, light therapy, yoga, antidepressants. None ever really helped before. Who knew that a camera might be the thing that could actually do the most good?

And so, as the sun streams through my kitchen window later into the evenings now, the feeling of weightlessness is palpable. The emotional hatches, tightly battened down sometime early last fall, have been removed and I am liberated. 

Do you have a favorite photograph that is all about the light? Share the link below!

Image and words courtesy of guest shutter sister Amy Drucker. You can find Amy on her blog, at Flickr and on Instagram at @amy_druck.

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.