Shooting

I shot roughly 2000 frames in the latter half of February. Not the whole month, just the last two weeks. 2000. That's a whole lotta pictures.

Some of them were of the girls. Playing dress up. Playing whirling dervish (a spectacular game that does, indeed, leave a wake of destruction). Playing Music Director, complete with pots for drums and metal lids for cymbals. These are the pictures I want as a mom.

I took pictures of the one and only significant snowfall this winter. (And the first big snow I have seen in nearly 10 years.) I went outside as the sun was rising, dressed in my pajamas, robe and untied sneakers, toting my tripod and camera up and down the street in front of my house, searching for just the right angles. Later, after a very hasty breakfast consumed by an extraordinarily eager 5 year old, I took pictures of my daughter personifying joy. These are the pictures I hoped would be artistic and beautiful.

One week after the snow fell, I walked to pick my daughter up from school. We played on the playground for well over an hour, then ambled home along a wooded path that follows the creek. In short sleeves. These are the pictures that remind me to soak up the sun.

Soccer is immensely popular in Lexington and that makes my stepson's heart happy. Right before the start of high school team tryouts, he participated in the First Annual Conway Cup, in support of his history teacher's husband who was recently diagnosed with ALS. Yes, I wanted to try out my new 70-200mm lens, which is acclaimed to be a great sports lens. But I also wanted to make sure the Conway family had quality images to show them how the town rallied around them in their time of need. These are the pictures that probably mean far more to someone else than they do to me.

Sometimes, as a stay at home mom, I grow restless. I don't want to wander the aisles of Wal-Mart, just to say I left the house that day. I don't want to bake cookies. I don't want to watch tv. I don't know what I want. So I take pictures of whatever is handy. Often, as any who follow me know, that turns out to be my daughter. I try to capture her artfully, purposefully. These are the pictures that allow me to practice.

Every picture has its own purpose. I know I won't fully appreciate the value of many of my images until months or years later. But I do know enough to know I will want them. So I have stopped trying to censure my trigger happy, shutter snapping finger. I am happy when I am shooting. And I am happy when I am looking at my pictures. That is reason and purpose enough.