Dreaming of White Picket Fences
This topic was a challenge to photograph.
How could I show “Letting Go” in an image? The only thing I could come up with at first was capturing petals dropping from flowers, or the typical dandelion seeds picked up by the breeze.
But I wanted something different, something more.
This image of a white picket fence, captured through an antique window, is more apt.
It is the dream of white picket fences, the North American ideal. It is the dream of perfection.
But life isn’t like that. At some point, we have to let go of that aspiration of perfection, and instead strive for what is perfect for us. It may not be 2.5 children in a 1.5 story house with an expanse of land and a tire swing in an apple tree. Letting go can be freeing: It opens us up to new possibilities of perfect. Letting go of expectations lets us embrace the unexpected.
Connecting the Years
In my daughter’s collection of doll clothes are a few items kept from my childhood.
This tiny embroidered dress is one of them; I can clearly remember dressing my own dolls in it when I was her age.
I’m happy I kept it. It somehow connects her childhood with mine, the years in between disappearing for a moment. It is also a connection of how many of the things I loved have become the things she loves.
The Things We Touch
Every day we put on clothes, we pick things up, we cook, we slide our fingers across our keyboards and our phones – mindlessly. And yet, in each of these is a touch, a texture, a temperature. The fabric we wear is stretchy, silky, or soft; the dishes are cool and hard. Food has endless textures: bumpy, crumbly, or even slimy.
How often do we notice?
What if we paid as much attention to the water running over our bodies in the shower as we did the pillow we lay our heads down on each night? What if we were as mindful of the softness of the scarf we wrap around our neck as we are the tag that scratches at our back?
Here is what I do notice:
- A new book, its pages crisp and clean
- The warmth from my children when we curl up on the couch
- The weight and softness of the throw I cover my legs with while I relax
- The heat of a fresh cup of coffee
- A pair of fuzzy reading socks
- A hot bath
- The almost-spring sun as it heats the inside of the car
- Ice-cold water during hot yoga (and the grip of my mat during asanas)
- The smooth keys of the keyboard while I type
- The curved edges and ridged buttons on my camera
This mindfulness challenge began to help create more awareness in my photography; it is helping to create more awareness in my life.
A pretty chandelier caught my eye while out shopping with my family. It was perfect for the master bedroom – glittery glass pendants and shiny, embossed brass.
The circular patterns caught my eye first; the shadows cast across my ceiling, second.
A simple addition (a sale item, too!) quickly became an unexpected inspiration to capture with my camera: light as art.
It’s been some time since I’ve posted. I seem to have gotten out of the habit of updating my blog sometime around the craziness before Christmas.
Since I took a few pictures while I was in NB over the holidays, I thought I’d go back a bit and share some of them with you. These were taken in my parents’ backyard; it snowed nearly every day I was there.
While standing in my kitchen, I first noticed the tiny new growth on this money tree. With the light above the plant and the darkness of the living room as a backdrop, it made for some beautiful contrast. I grabbed my camera and captured a few shots while supper cooked.
Sometimes I don’t see a picture right away, but when I look closer, the possibilities appear.
That’s what happened here.
This tiny shrub has not yet begun to bud with new growth. It is dry and still looks as though there is little hope for its survival. It is not known yet whether it will flourish into another season.
And yet, there is beauty here. These tiny papery blossoms, left over from last season, are still pretty.
I immediately thought of this photo for this week’s photo challenge… Even though it is not specifically something “extra” in a composition, as the newspaper is the central focus, the challenge title makes me think of newspaper delivery boys shouting, “Extra! Extra!” In a way, I suppose it was also unexpected; I happened upon this newspaper tucked into the bench while I walked through the Public Gardens in Halifax one day. I can imagine someone having sat on this bench, reading the morning paper and drinking coffee in this beautiful park before heading off to work for the day.