The Thanks You Give in Your Heart

An unexpected announcement.  A hug. A kiss. A split second you will forget completely, I promise you, save for the audacity of the click, that one step forward into the fray where all the magic unfurls right before your eyes.

Don't bother looking for beauty today. Everything qualifies. Don't bother asking for permission. Everyone already knows that this is what you do.  So do not disappoint. Search for the unusual moment. Watch for the edges of happiness. Document even the silliness, the awkwardness. Even this belongs.

This is your family. These are your people. The emotion you feel for them today will be nothing but a memory, and even this will fade. You do not know what your next year holds. You cannot assume all will be even the smallest bit the same. All you truly have is this moment, this one episode of magic held captive in your frame. 

So take it. Dive into the madness today, friends. Put yourself in the middle and shoot until you find your bliss. Your document will be one part history, one part testament to the thanks you gave in your heart. That you found each other, when there could have been so many misses. When so much of life could have left you apart, amiss, astray.

Happy Thanksgiving, sisters on this side of the pond and beyond. We give thanks for you today.

letting go

Each fall, I watch as the weather cools off and the ground becomes littered with yellows, browns, oranges and reds. The trees shed their leaves and turn their attention inward, gathering the energy released by the decomposing leaves and transforming it into the new beginnings of spring.

Just as the trees must release their old leaves to make room for new ones, we must let go of things in our lives that no longer serve us, especially our fears, in order to make room for new possibilities. It can be a difficult process, though. Even when I know my fears are not serving me, I wrap myself in them like a cozy, old sweater because I have grown comfortable with them.

When I don't know where to start, I pick one fear and name it. By starting with just one fear and giving it a name, I make it into something more manageable – something I can release, taking the bits of knowledge about myself that I find within it and transforming them into something new. Just as trees lose one leaf at a time, we can choose one fear at a time and let go of it. 

What are you letting go of this fall? How are you making space for the new leaves that will appear in your life next spring?

Gennifer Carragher was raised on the beach, grew up in the woods and now spends her days capturing the magic of these places with her camera and sharing her photo adventures on her blog. If you love fall as much as she does, consider joining her in Embracing Fall, her newest e-course.

playing with polaroid

A great opportunity popped up London last month - a Polaroid workshop run by Cyrus Mahboubian with the Impossible Project and Rough Trade. My friend Kirstin told me about it and today she's sharing her experience here. The workshop offered a little bit of history of polaroid and what The Impossible Project have been up to the past few years. We looked at other polaroid artists and were shown tips on shooting - like shielding your photo as it pops out, although there was much excitement about recent the launch of the new film, but it wasn't available at the time. Then you get given a pack of film from the Impossible Project as part of the workshop ready for a photowalk. 

20 of us headed out into the glimmering sun and dreamy blue skies, all giddy with excitement and ready to shoot. A photo can be taken at every turn of the Brick Lane area in East London, it's so cool; a mix of bars & restaurants and market stalls, with graffiti and colour everywhere. We took photos of each other and random things found. It really was liberating knowing that we should just play and shoot our 8 frames of instant film, just experiment and learn from each other… and embrace all results, perfect or not, as part of the learning experience. It was fabulous to see what everyone shot; a mini exhibition spread across the cafe table at Rough Trade.

Here are my four favourite polaroids of the day… I'm so excited to shoot more when I'm at Oasis in a couple of weeks with the other polaroid sisters. Yay!

What have you done with your photography lately that's different from your usual routine? Have you played and experimented with something out of your comfort zone? please share with us today.

If you'd like more information about other polaroid workshops in your city, please visit the Impossible Project calendar - there's even another one in London next week. If you can't take part in a workshop, why not gather some other photographers and take a photowalk of your own.

saturday at the market

Two weekends ago, I rode the train to New York City with a of film, a few cameras (two Holgas, a flash, a Pentax K1000, some 120 and 35 mm film, and an iPod Touch—4^thgen.), and a notebook. The plan was to photograph the bustling Union Square Greenmarket (with 140 regional farmers, fishermen, and bakers and 60,000 or so shoppers) on Saturday.

The minute I crossed Broadway into the sea of white tents and people rushing by, I wondered if I was in over my head even as I reminded myself how many times I’d photographed such scenes before. I took a breath. Loaded both Holgas, one with color film, the other with black and white.

I circled the market, noticed the light, and watched for moments. Slowly I started shooting. Frame by frame. I tuned the chaos out. I discovered small moments. I shot until I ran out of film. Nine rolls, plus thirty-some iTouch images and ten minutes worth of video. These photos reflect some of what I saw.

Photo essay courtesy of Nikki Gardner. You can find her work at Art & Lemons and find out more about Nikki’s latest workshop, Saturday at the Market: a photography workshop for Food and Film Lovers. Her next workshop is Saturday, October 20, 2012. Union Square Greenmarket, NYC. The workshop is limited to 12 people, so sign up early!

Birthday celebration

We celebrated my oldest son's seventh birthday this past spring.  For him, it was friends and family and cupcakes and gifts.  For me, it was remembering the light that he brought with him when he came into my world. 

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Words and photo essay by the lovely Melissa Talbert.  You can find more of her photography on her blog and on Flickr. 

We're loving the new photo essays feature here at Shutter Sisters! If you have a collection of 6 images you'd like to see featured here as a photo essay, give us a shout. We love hearing from you and showcasing your work.