with the decision to start writing again, to you this time, came a sudden outburst of photographic tendencies. I have been carrying around my camera all day, searching for something to shoot. The lack of practice in these last couple of months has it’s effect; it seems like the light and I have to get reacquainted again, tenderly probing and testing, trying to feel comfortable around each other once more.
So I decide to shoot everything. The smoothie I made in the morning, with bananas, apples, lettuce and this strange powder, of which I forgot the name, but that should give a person loads of energy, or so I think I read it on the website where I ordered it a while ago. (I am not sure if it helped. I still needed to lie down in the afternoon for a nap, which frustrates me to pieces, but who knows, without the powder I might have crumbled around noon!).
I shot the hydrangea in the garden, tiptoeing on my bare feet and shivering because of the hard and chilly wind (where did that summer weather go and hide all of a sudden?), admiring the pink petals and the pearl-like stems. I realise I don’t really know if you like the hydrangea as much as I do, I remember someone once saying they didn’t. I can’t really imagine why, because look at it: There is a certain shamelessness in all that bright pink and the curling petals that makes me feel all inspired to live a little louder as well.
Ah, and of course I had to shoot the children. I warned them, told them about my plans to pick up my picture taking and writing. The eldest two are perfectly fine with that; She doesn’t blink or respond in any way while I chase her with my camera in the library, as we wait for her little brother to finish his drum lessons. And my oldest smiles friendly as he sees me approach, and sits oh so quietly until I am finished.
Only the youngest one doesn’t like it. I am not sure why. He is so gorgeous and funny and radiates a certain energy that I so love to capture. But I promise him to respect his wishes. We just agree that I can take some shots, in which he is not completely recognizable. “Like your cute little toes!” I smile at him, excited. He rolls his eyes. We’ll talk about that some more later.
In the evening, when we play a game of ‘Keezen’, he allows me to take a shot of his cards. And his ear. I can work with that.