Hello my dear readers! Today, June 27th, marks the one year anniversary of my blog. Can you believe it? Thank you all for your constant love, support, and sweet words. This transitional phase in my life from childhood to adulthood has been much easier for me- being able to express my thoughts in this space. Developing this place has definitely been one of the best decisions I have ever made; look at all the blog friends I have made! I thank and love you all.
I am off to celebrate...
P.S. Check out my new "cell phone photography" and twitter account in the left corner. Sooo fun.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
So when my highly intellectual cousin questioned my beloved art of photography, I told him that exact statement above.
Okay, okay. I am going to be completely honest... Auto-focus is mostly on cruise control for me, and I usually tweak my photos' coloring on my editing program. However easy it may seem, it is all to recreate the "beauty that I find in the ordinary every day".
"Photography is the lazy man's art," he said, "anyone can press a button, and then edit it to make it look perfect. I wouldn't say you have to be talented to do that..."
Little did he know, but those words deeply bothered me for quite some time. Am I really an artist? Is photography really an art? How am I special if anybody can make a pretty picture?
It sure took me a long time to answer the thousands of questions in my head, but I finally did it. And here is my answer:
Photography is much more than a pretty picture. It's true- anyone can do that. Photography, however, is the magic found in an exchange of good mornings, the soft sheets woken up to every day, an afternoon drive to soccer practice, a child's playdate, carefully drawn sidewalk chalk murals on the driveway, the touch of a loved one, an overpacked minivan headed to the beach, the irony of an out of place conversation ...
A true photographer is different because
a true photographer sees.
**To answer some questions:
I do almost always shoot on manual modes (mostly Av) , and I sometimes use manual focus, but auto-focus is the most common because when I see something I want to capture, it is the best to use because I don't want the moment to go by.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
She was a sweet girl.
She would walk barefoot in the dirt, then wash her hands as her mama called her in for supper.
She loved to catch lightning bugs, and loved babies.
She and her sister would make Barbie houses out of old video tapes and play for hours.
She called her little brother her baby boy, just as if he were her child.
Her American Dolls slept with her every night, had a reserved seat at the dinner table, and were showered with kisses and baby powder.
She had a five star restaurant in her back yard where she sold countless meals to her siblings through the window of her playhouse.
She would swing in the backyard before dance class, careful not to rip her pink tights.
She loved to read, and Nancy Drew was always on her bedside table.
The Dixie Chicks were her favorite band; following closely behind was Shania Twain.
Hopping on the four-wheeler with her grandaddy and riding around the farm made her feel very special.
She loved to dance, and always wished her hair was long enough to put in a proper "ballet bun."
She could spend hours in the pool, until her little fingers and toes resembled raisins.
She was very sensitive, her feelings were hurt easily.
While watching PG-13 movies with her grandparents and eating butter popcorn and chocolate milkshakes, she felt like a grown-up.
Red was her favorite color.
She loved college football games, even though she would be very upset when the poor referees were "booed" by the crowd.
She was determined to read the whole Bible through in a few weeks, and very disappointed in herself when that deadline was not nearly met.
Being with her family was the best thing in the world.
She loved to sing, and believed she was the next Britney Spears. Her parents were glad when that dream never came true..
She watched every episode of Full House at least twenty times each, and countless freckles resided on her cheeks.
She grew up slow, and would cry when she thought time was moving too fast.
The sweet girl now waits... for that blink-of-an-eye moment when it will all be gone. Her childhood-