Blogging to me is a bit like the tides. Inspiration (and writing energy) flows in and out somewhat predictably. Folks take a break (I have at one time or another) for any number of reasons – healthy, energy, season, etc. Some return. Some never do.
Blogging (well) requires a certain degree of dedication because, quite frankly, it’s a lot of work. There’s the idea, the words, the pictures – none of which are necessarily easy to come by, although some things in life just beg to be blogged. The picture part in particular can sometimes be the most time consuming of all. There’s the issue of light, equipment, ability, willingness of one’s subjects to participate, and then the time it takes to edit the picture. For me it’s always a matter of cropping or resizing so that the file size is smaller and takes up less space thereby putting off needing to buy an upgrade or storing things off site. From there it’s correcting for exposure (sometimes), color (sometimes), and then otherwise messing around with the picture so that it looks right (effect, edges, text).
There’s a sweet spot there that I don’t always hit. Sometimes it’s just off and I want to throw up my hands and give up.
Getting the picture of the yellow and grey quilt top (hereafter named “Shattered“) a couple of weeks ago was one of those moments. All those pictures and I didn’t care for most of them. Do I really want to drag it out all over again?
A few weeks ago I was in the front yard taking pictures when my husband asked me what I was doing lying on the ground. How could I explain? Another blogger had these great pictures at the base of the tree and I thought it might be fun to play around with that? That I thought it might be fun to capture the idea of the blog visually. I wanted to catch what it looks like physically to be “under the maple canopy” when it was always an abstract kind of thing. How do I translate that to my husband who probably thinks I’m a little…eccentric?
And if my husband thinks I’m a little weird for what I do, what must my neighbors think when I take my dinner or dessert or any number of things outside in the backyard to photograph. Obsession? Functional madness? First world crazy person who’s too self-involved to not see that her actions are absurd? Hell, there’s no shortage of snark boards out there talking about how terribly self-centered bloggers are. Have I reached that point? Have I become snark-worthy?
There’s a side-effect, though (aside from my sanity which is certainly not trivial), and it’s that when I blog I take more pictures. When I take more pictures, I have more pictures of my kids and when I take more pictures of my kids, I catch more special moments – like the blurry rake held by Groceries who is far more concerned with creating leaf piles in the yard to jump in than he is in getting them cleaned up. The year he was finally big enough to use the big rake all by himself.
Is it worth it? I suppose I don’t know the answer to that question just yet and a great deal more time would need to pass before I could even attempt to do so. And if everything, even the most mundane of everyday moments is sacred in some way, then isn’t that something in and of itself?
In the meantime, I’ll take the greater influx of pictures even if my hard drive is filling up and be thankful that somewhere along the way I didn’t miss it.