It seems that the photos I am most proud of or cherish the most are never “technically” perfect – at least not in the conventional measurements of composition, focus, clarity, story, art or whatever. However, they are perfect in a way that those measurements could never describe.
This image of Multnomah Falls was taken on a whirlwind trip to Portland, Oregon to watch my daughters synchro team. Continue reading “Perfection in a Photograph?”
Recently I braved the frigid cold of Chelsea Michigan on a Saturday morning with an adventure pal of mine to take our first class at Breathe Yoga Chelsea. I say adventure pal, because this whole yoga thing is a stretch (pun intended) for two fluffy, non-bendy old ladies. We were not sure what to expect, and were a little nervous – were we wearing the right thing? Would we be faced with judgy flexible yoga people who were appalled that we could barely get our jackets off without breathing heavy, let alone touch our toes?
Walking in the front door, the immediate greeting from desk personnel was a warm smile and encouraging words, and I thought…this might be ok.
Matt was our instructor, and he assured us that there would be modified poses for those of us who were a little “challenged” by the moves in his class. He was kind, and very understanding of our limitations. Before class we discussed the alternate moves and what we could expect.
And then we got started!
Those who know me in person are most likely aware that I am an “out loud observer”. So throughout the class, I had an extremely difficult time listening, as I was expending so much energy simply trying to keep my mouth shut. Don’t judge, we all have traits we need to work on. I will proudly say, that only ONCE did a “yeah, sure we will” escape my filter in response to the instruction.
The class was certainly challenging, even in the modified poses – but I know that very often things that are difficult for me are things that I just need to practice more. And I definitely need more flexibility – in mind, body and life in general.
One thing my adventure pal and I agree on, is that we will arrive much earlier for our next class at Breathe Yoga Chelsea – because the only thing worse than being a fluffy, non-bendy old lady in a yoga class, is doing it in front of the rest of the class, right next to the instructor. (kind as Matt is, I’m pretty sure he didn’t enjoy my “yoga face”. Gah.)
Bottom line? Breathe Yoga Chelsea was a warm, inviting and challenging environment – exactly what this fluffy lady needed, and I can’t wait for round 2. Thank you for that Breathe Yoga staff!!
(Image by Burrill Strong, courtesy of Breathe Yoga Chelsea, used with permission)
I love freckles in general, but there no freckles that I adore more than the ones on my little guy’s face. He is not covered with them, but has just the perfect smattering across his cute little nose.
When I saw the Freckles contest on Viewbug, I had to enter. I immediately took Mister Robby out to the front yard and told him to sit on the sidewalk. The beautifully engaging smile? That was all him, and it makes the image don’t you think?
Did I mention that I am a Viewbug member? I love this site for inspiration – if you’re interested in photography check it out!!
I released a relaxed exhale as we left the cruise ship and began our walk down the path to the beach, enjoying the happy laughter of our kids as they raced ahead, cool breeze flowing through my hair when…”excuse me, will you take our picture?”. I awkwardly accepted the offered point and shoot and even more awkwardly try to figure out how it works as my dear husband says “you picked the right person, she’s a PHOTOGRAPHER“.
I wanted to slap him.
I don’t know why I am so uncomfortable with the title being blurted out like that. Is it because I perceive that other people will assume I should know how to work ALL cameras as I stupidly fumble with theirs? Is it because I know in this moment, this light, this location they will get nothing more than a snapshot (some photographer, they will think when they review the photo) or is it in fear of the dreaded “me too!” As every Tom, Dick and Sally is now a “professional photographer”? Or horror – if they really ARE a photographer, are they secretly judging me by the quality of their requested snapshot?
At that moment, it was a little of all of the above I think.
Am I a snob? Maybe. Sometimes. But paradoxically I am also supremely insecure about my own abilities and wonder what my place is in the photography world. Permanently ensnared between confidence and insecurity, flowing one way or the other with the wind – I’ve heard enough stories to know that I am not the only photographer/artist to feel this way.
So the next time I’m on vacation and I am the one that stops an unsuspecting passerby with “excuse me, will you take a picture of us?”, and she looks at me awkwardly as her husband pipes up “you asked the right person, she’s a PHOTOGRAPHER!’, I will smile warmly and say “me too”.
