Her Camera

Three years ago I picked up a camera with one goal in mind. We were starting a family and was determined to avoid paying a professional photographer to take photos that I thought I could learn to achieve on on my own. I was quickly bitten by the photography bug and when we fell pregnant on Mother’s Day 2009 everything seemed to be falling into place. I was gifted a brand new Nikon d90 and upon the baby’s arrival I was confident I’d be able to capture beautiful squishy newborn portraits of our bundle of joy.

 I never expected that things would go terribly wrong.

 At our 20 week sonogram a red flags were raised and we were alarmingly referred to a high risk practice to have them investigated. The vivid memories of our trip to that high risk office will haunt me until the day I die. The technician called us back and rushed us through a series of sonogram photos. She was rough on my belly, she pressed a little to intensely, I could feel our baby kick the technician back as if staying “Stop!”. I wanted her to stop too. Finally she left. Minutes dragged on like hours.

Then, the doctor finally walked in and broke the silence with 5 little words that would change our world forever: “Your baby has multiple problems”.

Without stopping for air, he continued to spout out medical jargon about this syndrome and that syndrome. Things we had never even heard of before. He listed off the numerous organs our baby was missing one by one. So cold. So heartless. We left the office numb, dazed, and confused. That evening, as I googled every little snippet of medical jargon our doctor threw around that day I knew what was coming next.

That's when I broke down in a river of tears for the first time.

We sought a 2nd opinion at Children’s Hospital in Washington DC where a fatal diagnosis was confirmed. Our daughter Bella’s defects were 1 in 20,000. No one expects to be the 1 in 20,000, but somehow the devastating baby loss lottery struck us at 20 weeks pregnant.

Our lives were forever changed.

Bella Rose was stillborn on September 11th, 2009. When we arrived home from the hospital empty handed and broken hearted, flowers began to arrive in mass quantities. I was looking to busy my mind and my hands and I sought a way to collect the beauty of Bella’s blooms and preserve them for when I could truly appreciate them. That’s when I remembered I had her camera. The oneI  intended to be used to to take beautiful images of newborn Bella to fill our walls with canvas and framed prints in our home.

Instead, I picked up Bella’s camera after she died and used it to capture a glimpse into my fragile heart. And then, a magical thing happened.

I discovered photography to be an incredible tool in my healing and I started to shift my perspective. I uncovered small bits of beauty in my broken world. I celebrated the little accomplishments, even something a simple as getting out of bed in the morning. I made it my daily meditation to visually express gratitude for what I did still have left in my life. I blogged images and words that revealed my most private feelings of loneliness and failure after losing an unborn child. But, I also shared how photography was allowing me to experience emotions more fully, learn about myself, and heal my soul.

Do you have a special image you’ve taken that has helped you on a healing journey? I’d love it if you’d share it here today. Let’s celebrate the magical powers of photography in soothing our souls when they are hurting.

 Guest blogger, Beryl Ayn Young, serves as chief photography muse over on her personal blog and serves as teacher of the Illuminate Photography e-course, designed especially for moms who have lost a baby due to stillbirth, miscarriage, or infant loss. She believes in nourishing the soul with lifelong learning, photographic healing, & a glass half full perspective. Beryl photography classes and mentoring aimed at teaching you how to improve your camera skills and cherish life’s journey.

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.

open

through my lens i see

a beautiful world because

my heart is open

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Do you remember when you first fell in love?  Life and everyone around you became beautiful.  Each moment was precious.  Any differences were easily overlooked.  The silliest things made you feel like a kid again.  I have found that you can feel the same way when you open your heart to creativity, you will fall in love with the world around you.

Since returning from Camp Shutter Sisters, my passion for photography has been re-ignited.  Now, as I go about my day, I find that I view everything as a photo opportunity.   A simple raindrop, the little flower that is blooming, the tiny dew drop in the grass, the view that I have seen for years... all are now shiny and new as though seen through lovers' eyes.   The true beauty in the simplicity of life is there and you will certainly find it... if you just open your heart to it.  

Today, I invite you to share an image, a poem, or a quote that has spoken to your heart recently.   Let us all bask in the glow.

balance

In my family, I fill a number of roles.  They include, in no particular order, the role of primary caregiver, wife, mother, friend, housekeeper, bookkeeper, librarian, storyteller, nurse, educator, cheerleader, and comedian. I have to put on my pants and fill the role of democrat, republican, and independent.  I am a chef, artist,  singer/songwriter, engineer, seamstress, stylist, decorator, journalist…

The list goes on.

Finding a balance between all of these roles may be one of the biggest challenges in my life, aside from trying how to fix a hole in the soft organza fabric that details the 15 princess dresses that are taking over my dining room table.  Not to mention trying to figure out how to get my 3 year old to eat.  Or sleep.  Or stop screaming all the time, especially when the baby is sleeping.  And to my 4 year old? No, I have no idea where the warthog toy is that you haven’t played with in 2 years but are suddenly obsessed with finding so stop asking me before my head explodes from repeating myself.

It’s all about balance, but how do you find that balance?

For me, it is all about moderation.  In regards to photography, and filling the role of the journalist, I find that I need to allow some moments to pass by, unrecorded. Picking up my camera was one of the most significant choices that I’ve made in my life.  Since then, I’ve taken thousands upon thousands of images.  It has become a part of who I am, and it has made birthday and holiday shopping for me incredibly easy.

I often need to remind myself, however, that my camera is an extension of who I am, and I cannot allow it to singularly define who I am (though it certainly does contribute to that definition). 

I think (I hope) that we all have moments that we would just like to leave our cameras at home.  Times that we just want to live in the moment and not be the one to document it. 

I try to have an ongoing dialog with myself, and when I wake up in the morning I promise myself that I will be there, and be present in my life and the lives of my husband and children.  I will use my camera with intention, and that moderation will allow me to find the balance I need to not only enjoy the time with my family, but it will save me from the guilt and regret of not getting any shots along the way.

How do you moderate yourself?  What sort of dialog do you use?  How do you come to the understanding that sometimes it is ok to leave your camera at home? That sometimes it is ok to allow the moment to pass, unrecorded?

Image and words courtesy of the lovely Meg Fahrenbach of Tea & Brie.

And hey! Don't forget that we're giving away some cool MOO products and a Lensbaby here this week! Awesome.

When There Are No Words

I received a text that my best friend was in the hospital, a text that was not unexpected.  Within 24 hours, her core group of girlfriends, myself included, fill her hospital room.  At times serious, we discuss chemo and medical procedures and pain management.  At times funny, we talk about some of our best times together, our laughter so hysterical and loud that a nurse comes to the room and closes the door.  My girlfriends know and expect that my camera is with me.  It's my security blanket, my safety net.  When I can't find the words to speak, I let me camera do the talking for me.  When a hand reaches out and takes a hand resting on the hospital bed, I lift my camera and quickly take a shot.  With a lump in my throat, I know this photo speaks all that I or my friends cannot speak and without a doubt, we will cherish it forever.

Today, show us those special photos that do the talking for you.  We'd love to *hear* what they have to say.