I have been absent from writing regular posts—again. I think I wrote last week, but it has been more than a month since I’ve posted regularly. I doubted I had much to say. And I doubted myself as an artist. My work is kind of dull compared to others.
Yesterday and this morning, I think I know why I am in such a state of doubt. I spent an evening looking through a truly beautiful magazine, Digital Studio, published by Stampington and Co. It is a gorgeous magazine. I love their publications, Somerset Studio, Somerset Life, Art Journaling . I could spend a small fortune on subscriptions alone! Then I begin to compare my work to what I see, and I tell myself that I don’t measure up. And then I doubt myself.
I am working on shaking that mode. A wise friend told me yesterday that I should remember that my photography is for me and me alone and that I should not be concerned that others “don’t get it.” You know, that image that speaks only to me, like this one.
It is a perfect pinecone, for heaven’s sake. And it’s attached to the branch on which it grew, and there are still green needles at the end. And I could not resist taking the image. Beauty. To me. And a little bit of “apartness” and separation and perhaps “aloneness.” (Okay, I’m taking a page from Shakespeare: if he can make up works like fantastical, then why can’t I?)
Again it’s only a holly berry lying on the brown earth, but it’s a spot of unexpected color. So, I received this tiny moment as that point of unexpectedness, recorded it, and moved on.
We walked by the creek/stream that runs through Lynch’s Woods yesterday. I admit that I am a “water person,” drawn to water and can abide by water. And I noticed more details—rocks, water, algae, texture.
I listened to my wise friend’s advice and recorded the images that spoke to me. Near the end of the walk, we both spotted some lichen growing on the tree trunk:
Do you see it? There is a heart. And Madre Julie wrote to me on Facebook and said, “There is Love.” Someone understood. . . .
Tomorrow, I may face the demon doubt again and wonder if anyone understands what I’m trying to say through my art of photography. But for today, I will be content and know that at least one image has spoken and someone else “gets it.”