(8/Dust, 10/365)
I hate photography sometimes. It tells the truth. Sometimes it's a truth about happy, about love, about others. With a self-portrait project, it tells the truth about me.
I didn't expect that.
I don't know what I expected, actually. I've done enough head shots in the mirror that I figured I'd just get frustrated with myself. But I hadn't done the timer thing. Hadn't stood nervous in front of the lens, trying to figure out what to look like. Hadn't had my picture taken when I was alone with myself and my thoughts, when I was having a good day - or even a bad day.
As a photographer, I have to accept the quality of the photos I'm shooting here. I can't just keep shooting until I'm in a good mood, because I have two kids and a life to live. But as a person, it's hard to be so honest.
Pictures are meant to be seen. I don't shoot the things I want to keep private. But I'm an introvert, believe it or not. Words are one thing. Pictures - they're another.
These last few weeks have stop-start time for me. I am wavering between too many decisions, trying to figure out my priorities, trying to balance a constant-moving schedule, trying to regain my footing after Bredon's birth. It takes me longer than it takes some people, I think.
The song going through my head today is Switchfoot's Dare You to Move - "like today never happened before..."
It's the theme of my life lately.
Mercies new every morning. Grace for this honest, and Truth that doesn't end with me. A daily dare to live and move and have my being in Christ.
And every moment isn't like the frozen moments:
(Image © Informal Moments Photography)
