When was the last time you got silly? This weekend, get outside. Walk around the block with no shoes on. Pick flowers out of your neighbors' yards and wear them in your hair. Let your kids stay up past their bedtime. Build a fort on your couch with sheets and pillows. Make up silly lyrics to your favorite songs. Watch a scary movie with all of the lights off. Do cartwheels and spin in circles until you fall down.

And don't forget to take pictures.

A few weeks ago, I was lamenting to my husband that I wasn't getting great images from my Canon Elph SD1000. "It's still a great camera," I said, "totally portable and good for snaps and short video. I just wish I could take beautiful images with it."

Just a few minutes later I had an inspiration. I set the camera on the ground, set the self-timer (for the first time since I've owned it) and let her rip. This is what I captured, and I love the way it came out, especially with the blur at the bottom. I became a little obsessed after that and shot this way for the rest of the day. It is so much fun people!

This week's photo challenge is to try it out with your camera. Set the self-timer, set the camera on the ground, click the shutter and get in front of the lens. Then post the results in the comments. Looking forward to seeing your shots!

I can’t claim any state of zen with my point-and-shoot camera. Most days, it takes near-herculean restraint to not chuck it off the end of the nearest wharf.

Taught my three-year-old several new curse words this weekend trying to capture him indoors — the NERVE! — where my press-down-halfway-and-hope-for-the-best pipsqueak stubbornly refuses to focus.

But a less-than-SLR camera need not be a creative crutch. Right? Right.

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I'd like to think that creativity is more than 'have’ or ‘have-not’. To accept the "you've got it, and you don't" myth would be utterly demoralizing on those days when I'm feeling photographically tapped — those days, I'd rather take a deep breath and say to myself It's not just me being inherently dull, or hopelessly all-thumbs with a camera. I'm just forgetting something, getting lazy.

Here's what helps me get my groove back — before pressing the shutter, an ABC of creative checkpoints:

ANGLE. Take risks. Lie on your belly. Crouch. Get up on a chair. Try a few without looking through the viewfinder, if an inventive angle requires it. Before turning away from a scene or subject, take at least two or three more unconventional angles or stances. When I start to get bored, chances are good it's because I've spent too much time with the camera at eye-level.

BACKGROUND. Do a visual inventory of everything around your subject — passerby, traffic, signage, household clutter — and change your stance to minimize visual distractions. Do whatever it takes for a clean frame, because there's some law of photography physics that assures the expression of a lifetime will occur in the one frame of a hundred that includes the potbellied guy standing stage left with the MASTER BAIT & TACKLE t-shirt.

COMPOSITION. At the last moment, look through the lens abstractly to consider the shapes, lines and balance formed by your subject and surroundings. Reduce what you see to blocks of colour and pattern, and respond to that stripped-down vision from the gut. This always leads me towards what often feels counter-intuitive, or quirkier than rule-of-thirds. While it may not always work, it's always worth a try to tilt, shift and crop for more mindful composition — as opposed to everything is inside the frame and no one’s got a finger up the nose: check.

If you’re an enthusiastic enough photographer to be here, you know all this already. But it’s forgetting these basics that gets me stuck in snapshotty ruts — and blaming those ruts on my wharf-bound pipsqueak.

Which, in the absence of something better, doesn’t do any favours for me or the Kodak.

So, what is it that you do to your shots?  The sisters have asked. They’re kinda unique.

Well, I ahh… I umm… see, I move the clicker wheel to ‘BEACH SCENE’, and then I hold the button down halfway so it may (or may not) focus, and then…

Crap, I think, too late, rinky-tink-tinking on my toy piano in a roomful of Steinways. I’ve just outed myself. Next thing you know I’ll give away my ‘BRIGHT SNOW DAY’ trick.

My camera is a glorified point-and-shoot with an unchangeable junior lens, shot-in-the-dark focusing and a complete inability to operate properly in anything but blazing outdoor light. It's all I know, photographically — probably like many of you, too — aside from the 25-year-old Pentax K-1000 I learned on.

So to those who have yet to graduate to the school of digital SLR I say:

1) You are not alone in your periodic camera-directed sado-masochistic abandonment fetish.

2) Between now and the receipt of lotto winnings, we may as well make the best of it.

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It’s frustrating to hit a ceiling — to have a creative drive that exceeds your equipment. I’ve got a baby, a toddler, a recent home renovation and a credit line with indigestion. Canon? Nikon? NTFL (add ‘Not Too F-ing Likely’ to your web-repertoire alongside LOL, SAHM and OMG).

Stretch what you’ve got. If you’ve still got the manual, read it (or go online to find it). Uncover every possible setting, adjustment and feature. Capture the same scene on auto, on preset modes, with flash, without flash, zoomed in, zoomed out. Let no button or switch go unexplored. If your camera offers manual settings, test them vigorously until you can visualize the effects of shutter speed, aperture and ISO.

Learn what works best in your most common shooting scenarios. For instance, when it’s bright out I use the ‘beach scene’ preset mode to overexpose, then tone down within Photoshop after I’ve downloaded the images. Something about that setting, combined with a contrast adjustment after-the-fact, makes blue skies pop.

Such a trick I’d never have learned if I hadn’t moved the clicker off the godforsaken AUTO and taken some risks in the interest of trial by error.

Sure, I flail, and curse, and salivate in front of store windows. Then I turn to my weary, battered Kodak, my pipsqueak, and say Okay kid, it’s just you and me. Let’s see what we can do.