Red

So, I am starting to think it's kind of frowned upon to say we like ourselves. We (women) are generally lousy with compliments. When someone tells us we look nice, or we've done something interesting, or we're smart, or lucky, or talented, or whatever, we're famous for the downplay. There's always a "but." We don't want to take credit, even when we know inside it's all us.

Oh, I'm as guilty as the rest of us.

But let's experiment with saying no.

Let's put on red lipstick (or no lipstick, or whatever makes us feel awesome) and say yes, YES, we are beautiful, smart, fascinating, valid, cool, funky, strong. At whatever age. No buts.

I will say boldly that I really love this photo. I think it is beautiful and creative. I could even say the same thing about myself. 

Into the Wild

I was out at the game preserve last night. It is a favorite spot for both Lisa and me. Wide open spaces, animals and all their sounds, plants, water, dirt, and much more. A beautiful place to open your eyes and really see. We have been there on calm days, warm days, very cold days, we don't care.

Last night I went there with my son and my husband. The wind was whipping everywhere, we saw birds struggling to fly against it. My hair kept hitting me in the face, even after I put my son's hat on. The wind was relentless and I kept thinking, nothing can stop this wind. It is free. It is wild. It is untamable.

Words I don't find to describe myself at all. I'd like them to. Very much. But I see myself as quiet, a rule follower, a good girl.

As we were heading back to the car my husband mentioned how photography has brought out a bolder side to me. He's impressed with all the places I've gone with my camera, how adventurous I've become in just the past year or so. I let that sink in and I saw myself in a different way. I thought about the photographs I had just taken. The ones I kept taking even after I started to get tired.
I let the wind hit me last night and I felt it in my bones. It was cold and uncomfortable but I held my own against it.

I am more than the limits I place on myself.

I am free.

I am wild.

I am untamable.

I am anything I choose to be.

Shadowy Amazon-woman

I'm in love with this place, a 5,000-some acre marsh, nature preserve and game area. I can't get enough of it, and I have a million photos from here and I'm not even going to try to curb my enthusiasm for going here, photographing here, hiking here, etc. Yes, my photo from last week is from here, and maybe one or two before that. I bet many more will be from here, too.

But I do love these long shadows, and how when cast upon this long road they make me look like a shadowy Amazon woman, tall and powerful. And I can't bear to be inside right now when the weather is changing and the days are lengthening and things are sprouting.

Worry and the Eye

For the past two weeks, I have had some issues with my left eye. Corneal abrasion one week, followed by a nasty eye infection this week. I wouldn't say I have been in a lot of pain, but I am constantly aware that something is wrong with my eye. Sometimes it's very watery, or irritated, or my vision is blurry. I had a retinal tear 11 years ago in that same eye that had to be fixed with surgery. I have irrational fears that I will need surgery again, or that I will lose my sight in that eye. Logically I know that whatever it is can most likely be fixed. My ophthalmologist does not seem overly concerned.

But I am.

I am normally not a worrier. I am an avid believer in the phrase "Worrying is like praying for what you don't want." But this week I have let myself worry and cry and worry some more. I woke up worried this morning because after two days of antibiotic drops this eye of mine is still looking and feeling terrible.

My aim today was to take a very overexposed photo of myself. Hide my wrinkles and pores so I could at least maybe think I looked good. But I didn't smile in any of them. I had the LCD screen on my camera flipped so I could compose these shots and all I could see was the difference in my two eyes. One bright and wide open, the other swollen and watery. I wish I could say this made me have some profound realization that everything will turn out okay, but it didn't.

Sometimes it's just not that easy.

I honestly hope that when I post my next self-portrait and I look back on this one it will be with two clear eyes. Hope over worry. Faith over fear.

Next week will be better.

Hello again, fitness

I used to be fit. Exercise was a big priority in my life and I made space for it, mentally and physically, almost every day. I considered myself a runner first and foremost, and after that a cyclist, kayaker, paddle boarder, and general fitness enthusiast. Up until the last several years, that is, when I started to make less and less space for running, and then everything else fitness kind of followed.

There are lots of reasons for my lapse, none of them particularly good or even that make much sense. But after years of being fit, I got unfit. Up until the last two months. Since then I've been making it a daily priority again. And it feels fantastic, both mentally and physically.

I hiked the marsh today for hours with my friend Karen. I am so happy outside, and so happy to be back on the journey to fitness. It feels good, and it feels like home--like the me I started to lose track of for a while.

The Image Tells the Story?

This is an idea that was not fully fleshed out. To be honest, I just did not know what to do for this week. So I had my husband dig out an old window from the basement, I sprayed water on it and held it up in front of my face. I like the effect. I think it's an interesting photograph. Aside from that though, what am I saying about myself this week?

Maybe sometimes the image stands alone. I think that's really ok. Better than ok.

PS We're out of nail polish remover.

A mostly very good day

This week was frantic, but since I had to take a head shot of this kid (above, on right) for her student ID, I said in payment she would have to be in my self portrait for the week. I'm glad she obliged.

Today was Easter and while we aren't religious, we enjoyed the day with said kid, her boyfriend, and her brother. We cooked too complicated and too much and it was all really good. I made carrot cupcakes to top it all off. Everybody was in good spirits, which to me makes for an excellent day.

But before anybody arrived today, I kicked the coffee table, which isn't a coffee table at all but a very large antique cedar chest. I kicked it hard enough to see stars and wonder if I was going to throw up. So for the rest of the day my baby toe was beginning its transition to the swollen, purple-red, rather painful appendage it is tonight as I sit, finally, and post this. Not that the toe stuff has anything to do with this self portrait. But here I am, with my daughter who willingly wraps her arms around me again after a couple of rough years, and for that I am deeply, overwhelmingly grateful.