Monday, February 23, 2009

A Dark Day

Well, it’s finally happened. My toothpick camera no longer recognizes a toothpick. No more picture taking for me. I am very grateful for the bonus year that I got out of my camera, seeing as, I thought it was a goner when I first dropped it and lost the magic button. But then the joy, oh the joy, when I discovered that I could insert a simple toothpick in the little hole on top and still take pictures! What a gift! Sure, I looked like a fruitcake, walking around sticking toothpicks in my camera and yes, it made for many a funny conversation with various passersby as they observed my oddity of a camera. But, alas, all good things must come to an end.
And, despite my lighthearted remembrances of the last year, I am, truly broken hearted. I’ve become very attached to the idea of using pictures to express how I see the world and without that as an option for awhile, I will feel the loss greatly. Plus, I can’t help but think of the milestones that I might not be able to chronicle. Aidan’s first loose tooth is only getting looser (mind you, it’s taken a month and a half to get to this point but obviously it is going to fall out soon enough) and soon he’ll be ushered into a new phase of his life (believe me, there is a very intimate blog entry stewing in my brain about this event!). UUGGHH!!
Oh well, such is life. I suppose I will begin the slow task of researching cameras (dream ones as well as more practical ones, although I’m beginning to believe that those are one in the same now) and begin the even slower task of saving for its purchase. As I’ve said in previous posts, “Good things come to those who wait”. Right?

“Above all, it's hard learning to live with vivid mental images of scenes I cared for and failed to photograph. It is the edgy existence within me of these unmade images that is the only assurance that the best photographs are yet to be made.”
-Sam Abell

Reasons for Blogging

Well, I’ve certainly been living by my new blog motto, as of late (B.W.O.=Blogging Without Obligation). I used to have pretty high expectations regarding the number of posts I was striving for each week. My motivations for such were varied. Initially, I was driven to post often because I was living far away from my family and I wanted to help bridge the distance with regular updates about our day to day life. My parents ate that up and soon began asking me when I was going to post next. Spurred on by their die hard allegiance, I continued to post, feeling the joy that comes from connecting in new and innovative ways. Soon, I discovered the world of blogging as a whole, especially niche blogs, or those that targeted specific audiences (homeschooling, organic living, cooking, etc.) Because I became a regular follower of a couple of these blogs, I haughtily believed that others were doing the same for me. Nothing like a captive audience to inspire greatness, right? Well, whether I had a following or not, I quietly discovered that this blog was really for me, not “them”.

Putting thoughts down in a semi-formal way (no high fashion here!) helps solidify things that I’ve been mulling over in my head. My brain begins to get too saturated if I don’t periodically cull the thoughts and ideas steeping there. The fact that I am willing to do that in such a public way is a bit unusual for me, but somehow, it works. Although I am an internal thinker, slow to share what I’m developing for fear of the criticism or fault finding that might occur, there does seem to be some value to periodically putting myself “out there” for consideration, if you will. There must be something to the accountability that comes with the practice. Whatever is happening, whether on my end or yours, I find this blog to be very helpful to me in many ways, some of which I haven’t even discovered yet. I certainly think about posts I could make, all the time, in fact. But life and computer access and ________ (fill in the blank) don’t allow for all the posts, whether real or imagined. For now, I must be content with what I can do. Thanks for reading.