Sometimes when I am out running errands, (and usually when I am late), I stumble across a place so magical it looks like it belongs in a fairy tale or in one of the books from my childhood, and I am compelled to take a picture.
This shot made me want to move into the barn and stare out over the verdant hills watching as it changed from one season to the next, while taking a thousand pictures of the sunrise and sunset over this grand and magnificent, little pond.
Even though my to-do list beckoned, I sat a few minutes longer and marveled at this place called Earth and then I was off. Looking at this picture now I am reminded of the sense of peace I felt when I was there and the proof that if I slow down, I can be continually surprised by what’s around the corner.
Bit by wonderful bit, the spring has finally arrived and nature has begun to dazzle us with her vibrant and verdant colors.
Mother Nature is compelling us to look up and out at the majesty and brilliance that surrounds and enchants us with each new perfect bud, blade of grass, or blossoming tree, stretching eagerly, hungrily towards the resplendent sun.
I’ve been fortunate to have my photographs shown at a few different venues, (thanks to the Art Gods that be, and the mortals who support them), and it has gone better than I ever would have expected. I am happy and extremely grateful to dance through the doors of opportunity that have graciously opened for me.
However, it involves the daunting task of intensely scrutinizing my photos in a lame attempt to see my pictures through the eyes of other people, as if I really could. Without a filter of rational judgement and some self-love, my inner critic is off and running faster than I can say, Namaste.
I’m stymied by the process of deciding which of my pictures will appeal, artistically, to another person? I have taken photos that I knew that I would love even if no one else did but when I am trying to market them….I get a little queasy and a lot more uneasy. I can get lost in an endless loop searching for the perfect photo, (doesn’t exist), and wasting valuable time trying to get into the minds of other people. In the end, I just try to pick what I like, what moves me and I remind my inner critic, being a photographer, is a labor of love not a destination.