It’s been quiet in this space for awhile. Me, always confused about the business side of me and the mom-blogger-figuring-it-out side of me.
Last week I say to Chad, I think I want to go back to Running Chatter.
Why? he asks as if I haven’t said this sort of thing a hundred times before.
Shouldn’t my business thoughts and personal thoughts be separate?
Just be you, he tells me, all of it is you.
Just be you. . . easier said than done, right?
Truth be told, the ‘figuring-it-out’ side of me is a much bigger percentage than the business side of me, anyway.
The hands on the clock move forward one night and it seems everything changes. The sun shines longer and suddenly there are birds and bunnies everywhere. Last week we had a taste of spring. We threw off coats and pulled on shorts.
Of course this was accompanied by three cases of the flu. Fair trade? Maybe.
The winter was quiet. Slow. I love the rhythm of winter. Locking the doors early, nestling under blankets, books, books, and more books, watching Mother Nature do whatever she would like to do.
I’m slow to adjust to any new season, my eyes always lingering on what was, rather than what will be. A character flaw, for sure.
I’m working on it. Likely, I’ll always be working on it.
Last week these words from a book by CJ Casciotta:
You might recognize too late you’ve been building something for an audience that needed to see your process more than taste your perfection.
I believe this to be true. Most days, I forget.
Last week a message in my inbox:
Can you tell me the premise of the one picture a day that you do?
A portion of my response:
For me, the 365 project was a way to keep me disciplined and grow as a photographer. . . Overall, I just wanted to learn and grow and challenge myself learn to use different light, settings, etc. I would tell anyone that the 365 project is the most important thing I did to grow as a photographer.
I took a lot of crappy pictures before I took any good ones.
Proof? My very first picture of my very first 365 project. The year? 2010. . .
People need to see your process more than taste your perfection.
There is no crossing the finish line without first standing on the starting line. And really, in most things, the finish line keeps moving, doesn’t it?
Speaking of starting lines, in a few short weeks I am to stand on the starting line of the Boston Marathon. A story that began long ago and is far more messy process than glorious perfection.
But that’s a story for another day.
For now, these words by Cris Hamilton:
It would be nice, she think sometimes
to be gentle.
The faint tick tock when
the diner is finally empty
and the cook is working
on 14 across.
That where did it come from
soothing half hour to do nothing at all.
It would be nice but someone else
is that. She wonders if
they ever think, sometimes,
it would be nice to be flickering, always
She is passion. It is nice too.