I have had an incredible eighteen months of creative and professional growth launching my fine art photography into the world. It’s been a heady and deeply gratifying experience on many levels, and I hope that this is just the beginning. (You can read a bit about it here if you care to know more.)
But a curious thing happened during the process of pouring all of my energy and time into my fine art photography career; I lost track of my personal photography projects, which primarily revolve around photographing my children and our travels. As my solo show winds down, and as this blog post inched closer on my calendar, I took notice of the fact that it has been mostly “work” and very little “personal” in front of my lens for far too long. And so, I returned to a familiar old habit of picking up my camera to capture everyday moments “just because”, as well as a few precious moments when my momma-heart grew ten times it’s size with pride and love. I’m sharing a few of those with you today.
Our trip to Tucson in April was a study in color and texture (and a well-placed reflection).
My son learned to shave for the first time, and the only thing that kept me from losing it was the camera in my hands.
My youngest joined a baseball team. He had a wonderful time on the field, but I especially loved photographing him while he practiced patience in the dugout.
And another of the whole team in the dugout during the last inning of the last game of the season. They lost the game, but that light . . .
And one that I will add to my Tethered Capture series. Tethered Capture is a personal project I began several years ago as I pondered the intrusion of video games and television in my children’s lives. (Hint: I hate it.) This one was captured in a hotel room in Santa Monica in February.
During that same trip to Santa Monica, we explored the Santa Monica Pier. While the boys enjoyed the rides, I soaked in the colors . . .
And shadows . . .
And I found a few fun opportunities to photograph tourists on their cell phones — another personal project of mine.
All of this is to say, that my personal work is every bit as important to me as my professional, and I learned a valuable lesson when I let it slip off my radar. Shooting with no particular agenda except for the pure joy returns me to my roots and engages me with the world around me very differently than my professional work. It’s clear to me now that I need and want both.