When the Camera Met Astro

There’s always that first time a new loved one meets my camera.

Or is it really my camera meeting them? I always seem to capture the moments exactly as they fall into place, sort of the way it always works out. Instinct. Technique. More of one than the other. Self-doubt. Pure emotion. I can’t say that I’ve been really up on myself with photography or writing lately. Sometimes it’s hard for me and sometimes it isn’t. It’s just that there’s so much perspective and emotion crammed into blog posts and photographs, no matter how wide the bandwidth and how large the format. I only took phone photos the day we got Astro because I was focused on keeping the surprise under wraps and holding a wiggly puppy for a three hour car ride. Not that it wasn’t pure bliss. I shouldn’t have been worried.

We spent a few days, and then weeks, getting to know each other. He has started puppy class and he’s tried to chew our entire house. We’ve had some user-error-induced house breaking accidents, but we’re learning the way and so is he. He brightens my day. I’ve been so tired since we got him – just flat-out exhausted at the end of the day. I was already so bad at balancing parenting and personal/social life and work and writing/photography for fun. Then you throw a puppy into the mix and the fact that he has to be watched or crated when I’m working. Yet, sometimes he’s just the brightest star in my sky.

And the best part of my day. Pure unconditional affection. He doesn’t cower like Athena, act like too much of a cat like Junie (the cat), break my heart like humans, and cause Salmonella like the chickens. I can just scoop him up, day after day, moment after moment – sometimes letting tears drip down his fur. He’s perfect and new. And he smells good. And he’s fluffy – although changing color every day. Not to mention, will we EVER know what kind of dog he is? Maybe. Probably not.

So that’s my story for you, and it’s one of love and newness and how the emotions spill out into words and then spill out into photos and somehow with spoken words and written words and photographs, other people get a bit of an idea of it all.

So this is my photo story for you:

This is me linking up, as one of my favorite things to do, with Finish The Sentence Friday. This week’s topic is Photo Share Friday And there’s still time to write yours. Come link up with your spin: HERE. What’s your photo? What’s its story?

He’s pretty irresistible, isn’t he?

When I Move You Move, Just Like That

In fact, that Ludacris song has been stuck in my head for days.

Also in fact, the above photo I took of my mom got over 400 likes on Facebook?! She was movin’!

I think I usually cheat the 5 minute free-writing Finish the Sentence Friday prompts, but in fact, I am doing this one the right way. With a stopwatch. I’ll probably come back here and put in some “moving” photos in between the text because that’s what I do. When I first heard the prompt, I thought I might skip it. Move. What does that even mean? Exercise? Moving as in changing houses and locations like Kristi? Is it about being moved, like I am always horribly off balance with? So much sadness sometimes. So much joy. My dad lost his mom a few weeks ago. I talked to a friend today who lost her beloved dog.

ftsf

Why was it easier to be moved by the dog’s passing than the old woman? I think it’s because it’s easier to wrap your head around. The death of an animal is tragically sad. We don’t know if they know what’s happening. I imagine that sometimes they do, and other times, they don’t. It’s sudden and awful. Like struck by a car. Today the UPS driver was taking up half the street and I said, “Move.” Not aloud to him, but I said it. I’m constantly impatient. I’m always moving. Like a shark who will die if it stops swimming, that’s often how I get through my days. I don’t stop moving. Move move move. Move out of my way. Or move in my way. I feel like I’m moving and I can’t tell in which direction. In some ways, I’m trying to do less work.

And in other ways, I got four photo jobs today. FOUR. I am at the point where four in a month seems like a lot. I’m moving in the blogger/influencer direction, and trying not to move too far away from the photography and author direction. New and old dreams. Am I moving towards being less anxious, or more? What comes next? What is my place in it? I honestly don’t know. For the first time in my life, my next move is totally unclear. I see a foggy vision of every scenario, and like a chess game, each move is precarious and calculated. And I have no idea what I’m doing these days, and I have peace with that.

ftsf

I only know that I have to move. Choose a direction. Drink more water. Move my body. Move, move, move my body more. Keep moving. Keep fighting. Make sure to keep crawling upwards. Don’t stop moving, don’t stop swimming, but even sharks have to sleep and rest and drink and move their bodies and stop moving their bodies. All I know is that I have to move. Choose that direction. Make my move. Throw everything I’ve got to the wind. Make my move. And then I’ll wait for it.

Your move.

This is me linking up, as one of my favorite things to do, with Finish The Sentence Friday. This week’s topic is “Move..” (5 minute free writing) And there’s still time to write yours. Come link up with your spin: HERE.

What would you say?