Lynzie and I are gone to England so my friends are running the show! I'm so excited to welcome my friend Shirley as a guest blogger today! Shirley is an excellent photographer who inspires many in our community to get out and enjoy nature and the beautiful things in life.
I take pictures. Lots of pictures. OK, I admit I have a problem. Not only do I love getting that shot (right as I squeeze the shutter release sometimes), but I am so happy organizing, editing, and making things like photobooks and gifts from my photos.
My subjects, before I became a parent, included anything and everything I found pleasing.
But did that change when my first child was born! I took hundreds of shots (THANK YOU, DIGITAL CAMERA DEVELOPERS!), edited each of the best 20 different ways, filled photo albums and my walls and my focus with images of my daughter.
Since then I have slackened somewhat, especially on the editing and definitely on the printing, and these days I do get quite a few non-offspring pictures.
But did I mention I have a problem? I have this sense that if I do not capture that moment, I will lose it somehow. I will forget it happened, the richness and joy will fade, something. My memory is not strong (many of my memories before age 18 are in snapshot form rather than video form, if that makes sense). There is a fear in my heart that many moments will fade to nothingness if not "immortalized" in a photograph. OK, so take the pictures, right?
But it began to dawn on me as I captured birthdays, explorations, t-ball games and dance recitals that I might be missing the richness of the experience, of being wholly IN the moment, by choosing to be behind a camera. I feel incomplete without some method of capturing the moment, but perhaps I don't need 50 shots of a 45 minute dance class?
Right now, this is my compromise, along with asking someone else to grab a few shots: get a few photos, take one when it really grabs me, then let the camera hang on its strap, at the ready, relax, and LIVE in the moment. I don't know which way is best, honestly. What is the future use of these thousands upon thousands of pictures I have taken of my daughter? Beyond the occasional photobook, enlargement, gift, memory-booster, what use are so very many minute captured details of a child's life? I don't really know the answer, but I do know that I can't cut back much more without fear whispering in my ear, "What if you forget this moment? What about THIS one? You don't want to chance THIS one disappearing into your history forever..." So I grab a shot. Or two. Or 25.