This Week's Love Notes | Week 1
For anyone who doesn’t know what a 365 project is (or Project 365) it’s taking on the challenge of taking a picture a day. There are many ways to do this and many whys. My very first one was in 2013, the year my daughter was born. I remember taking this project on to simply help me become more acquainted with my camera, connect with others doing the same project, and build my skill. Little did I know that I’d be documenting some of the most precious days of my life being a brand new mother.
I’m not quite sure how many 365’s I’ve done between then and now… several. I think it’s been the past 2 years that I haven’t. While I continue to always document the important parts of our lives, I have found the desire to do another 365 and I’ve found that my “why” has continued to unfold more even over the past 2 weeks since deciding to do one. My why’s:
Love notes. These pictures that I take of our everyday are my love notes to my children and even myself. It’s getting lost in the chaos and madness of the day, but still making time to pick up my camera. And then looking back at those moments and finding insane gratitude for capturing such a fleeting moment in our lives. These moments always end up feeling like the most important ones. We always take pictures on the vacations and the parties and holidays, but what about all of the in betweens? Aren’t those the moments that truly make up the context and importance of our lives?
Being in the story. While I sneak into a shot here and there, I’m in so few images. My son constantly asks, “where were you, mom?” It’s like he can’t wrap his head around why I’m not in the pictures. So this year, whether it’s a tripod or asking someone to take a pictures for us, I want to be in them. I want to be in the pictures with them and I want to be in pictures of just me. I want them to look back and have them see me as the mother they remember and the woman they may not know otherwise. There’s something so profound to see our mothers outside of motherhood. There an be such a beauty. It’s like an added puzzle piece.
Challenging my creativity. Photography is art. It’s not a big expensive camera that takes good pictures. It’s a skill. To understand how to find your voice, how to look for certain light, composition, how to evoke emotion… it’s truly an art. After two years of not pushing myself through classes or projects, my creative soul needs it. I need to look more introspectively at my art and try new things.
So, this is where I am with my why’s. In all of it, what I know, is that photography (outside of my kids ) has been one of my biggest teachers in life. I know that creativity connects me deeply with my intuition and feel more easily guided through life and which paths to take. And with that, I will lay back in my inner tube and go with the flow - trust and surrender - allowing photography to give me the security to do just this.
It’s my hope to do a weekly post sharing the previous week’s images and my lessons or messages from the images. Some weeks may be skipped, and some notes may be shorter than others, but I love to share my life lessons and insights in my captures.
Here’s week 1.
1.366 If there is one love letter that I want my kids to read, it’s this one. The love I have and share with these children is more complex and profound than any one person could ever prepare you for when becoming a mother. The vulnerability, fear, needed healing, explosive love that comes with motherhood is almost unbearable in the most remarkable, life changing way. It’s a feeling as if I wasn’t fully alive before having them. They’ve broken me open in the most beautiful way, allowing me to fully accept who I am, be who I am, and become who I’m meant to be. All because they love me and chose me to be their mom. It will be the most important thing I ever do in my life.
2.366 This type of side by side image is popular among the photography world. It doesn’t get old. I think I’ve tried it in the past, seemingly such a simple image to take, but something about it is actually technically quite difficult. It’s an image that stops me. To see me. To see her. To see us. The similarities contrasted by the differences. Who will she be? What will she look like at my age? Will her lashes and brows always be so stellar? Her upper lip, how it’s slightly bigger than the bottom. How her lips curl up and mine curl down. I love the intrigue an image like this offers. Maybe we’ll do one yearly.
3.366 It was a moment that I looked at her and saw how young she still is. Despite her height and maturity for her age, I saw my 6 year old in this moment. Sitting on the edge of my bed with her bare feet tangling as she watched me, free of sass or leadership (we don’t like to say bossy), but simply big doe eyes taking it all in. My womanhood of a daily routine, of working with my equipment, of tidying up my room in a daily routine. She watches it all. And then as I watch her, I see her execution and I’m reminded that despite my inability to be perfect, I must be doing an amazing job. Because she’s amaing
4.366 He asked to take a picture with me and then laid in my lap. In my growing, I’ve learned to really sit and observe my children’s “behaviors.” My immediate thought was, “What are you doing?? Why are you laying down?” And then, I chose to remove the expectation I unknowingly set the moment he asked to take a picture with me, and instead went with the flow of the moment. And this is the result. My darling, precious little boy curled in my lap. Completely open to accepting any and all love and affection I could offer him in that moment. It lasted only for the duration of taking a picture but it was a moment that I will relish. It’s one he gives me time to time that I know will fade as he continues to grow. I will hold him and be still with him for as long as he asks me.
5.366 It was one of those moments that I glance over and saw this. This little girl on her tippy toes even though she doesn’t need to be. And this dog. This dog that is inarguably “my dog.” The dog would ride on my hip every day if I let him. But he has found a space for his big sister. He greets her when she comes home from school and licks her tears when she cries. And here he is. WIth here in such a simple moment. A moment that came and went in seconds. A moment that will never happen again.