photography is a gift.

I think I’ve written about 100 times here how photography has been a gift in my life. It has been a gift, not because I have great images to hang on walls or fill books. Not because it has provided income for our family. Not because of opportunities it has ushered. It is a gift because it allows me to see. There is something about that “click”…that moment captured and saved. I teach SnapShops (October registration is open) because I cherish the opportunity to teach others the basics of photography and help them learn to capture their days. However, the joy of photography is not limited to those with dslr cameras. The joy of photography for me is in the “click”.  A moment frozen, remembered, cherished. I don’t just “click” on the picture perfect moments. In fact, many of my favorite images are from an attempt to see the beauty in something that appears very mundane. Photography has been a gift. Photography is a gift.

I print pictures. I make books. I blog photos. But, even in all the sharing and saving…the joy is in the taking the picture. I have hard drives and disks full of little moments, little details…beauty in the mundane. Maybe I’ll use them one day. Maybe the kids will enjoy them. But, then again maybe I will lose them all. Maybe in one sift moment hundreds of thousands of moments captured will be gone. If that day comes, I’ll cry. I’ll grieve the loss, but in the end….I’ll pick up my camera again and risk losing it all again….because it is more about the slowing down of life that happens when I pick up my camera. It is more about seeing beauty in what can feel very routine and mundane. Photography is a gift.

The kids wanted a fort to curl up in and sleep together. I love that their favorite way to sleep is all together in one room. We read books under the strung lights and fought the battle of getting them all settled down and asleep. I’m pretty sure I threatened to move them all back to their rooms and their own beds 1000 times.  In the end, only the littlest FireCracker had to be separated back to her own room. Too many, “Mommy, she’s jumping on me again!” and “Mommy, she keeps licking my arm!” She wears me out. I didn’t grab my fancy dslr…just used Chris’ iphone. Beautiful moments of toes, tears, wrestling, and stories…no licking photos (she waited until I left the room for that).

Photography is a gift.