Tag Archives: writer

A wave of deflation

Photography, Spring, , , , , , , ,

A burgeoning California morning. An abundance; fields actually, of colorful blooms. A camera. Thus began a promising day.

The homeschool field trip to The Flower Fields in Carlsbad left me with time, while my children were attending a workshop, to take in and attempt to capture–in my psyche and in my camera–the intoxicating beauty surrounding me.

Click, click. Smile. Click. Smile. Click, click, click. Smile.

Arriving home, exhausted but happy, I could hardly wait to view my shots. I loaded them up, hit “Import,” and waited. It would be a while. There were hundreds. I pulled up the internet to check out the photos of an award-winning photographer I had met that day, Donna Pegakis.

Mistake.

I was tired. Too tired. Way too tired to view amazing photos expertly massaged into fine art; photos worthy of the awards they had received.

I clicked over to my photos, now loaded, to see if any were keepers. I didn’t get very far before a wave of creative deflation hit me. What had I been thinking? Me, a potential professional photographer down the road? Who was I kidding? Her shots were amazing. Mine paled in comparison, despite the brilliance of the flowers. I took a nap.

Weeks passed. I received an e-mail from Donna with her newly updated site, and I ignored it.

This. Is. Not. Like. Me. At all. In case you don’t understand. I am not a jealous person. I used to be, but when I decided that being insecure was NOT an option, I eradicated jealousy–seriously (it took many years). I am the kind of person who will compliment a drop-dead gorgeous woman on her calves, her stunning low-cut blouse, or her form-fitting capris. So this fresh round of envy, in response to Donna’s amazing work, depressed me. Still, I ignored it, until I finally decided to look at my shots; not to see if I could out-do my new friend, but to see if any of my shutter clicks matched my vision for them. Lo and behold, since I wasn’t comparing my work with Donna’s; wasn’t letting the atrociously ugly green monster control my thoughts about my aspirations, I found some I loved.

Today I will contact Donna and share this post with her. I will apologize for not responding. I will tell her how her work has inspired me to keep my own creative vision alive–versus comparing it to someone else’s and deciding to quit, or to settle for less than my progressive best.

As for those demons I thought I had wrestled into oblivion? I’ve realized that they are always waiting to rear their formidable heads–especially when I forget to remind myself that my dreams cannot be touched by someone else’s accomplishments. In fact, if I am smart, I will let other people’s genius inspire me to new heights.

Straight

Hair, , , , , , , , ,

“Stand up straight!” “Straighten up!” “Stay in line!” “You’re out of line!” “Toe the line!” “Make a straight line.” “Line up single file.” “Don’t cross the line!” Criminy, these poor little dominoes, trying their best to act right…to be right, all based on what we tell them: What we think they should think. What we think they should do. What we think is important. What we think about God, gods, religions, churches, other people, the food they eat, the clothes they wear. How we think they should keep their rooms, how lucky we think they are, how grateful we think they should be, how much and what kinds of foods we think they should eat. As if that’s not enough we tell them how to bathe, how and when and where they can and can touch various parts of their bodies (noses, lips, their nether regions). And because there is always more: how to sneeze into the crooks of their little elbows, how to wipe, and how not to get hurt.  These viewpoints we impart are natural, unavoidable, even.  And even when we get it wrong, it is with pretty good intentions:  we want our kids to go out into the world prepared, not pampered.  We are meant to be their guidance counselors, not their buddies (that can come later).  But what about when we impart opinions to them as fact…like teaching a child that homosexuality is sinful, unacceptable, shameful?  And what about when these viewpoints lead to a death, a suicide?  That’s when toeing the line and being “straight” is not in the best interest of a child.  That’s when the near-perfectly aligned dominoes need to fall, each one hitting the next and the next and the next until the hatred and judgement is eradicated.  I pray my little dominoes will live to see and be a part of this long overdue revolution!