Finding Photographers: A New Blog Project

After spending much of 2016 falling more and more in love with my photography hobby, I decided that this year I should actually start learning some things instead of just snapping away and hoping for the best. I have always adored the idea of photography as an art, and have come to know quite a few photographers in the last while. Some professionals, but many just hobbyists like myself.

This year I have decided to spend more time with my photographer friends and collaborating with them in a sort of experiment. I want to show myself, and you, how the photographic style and personality of different photographers can make  a difference when it comes to photoshoots. I especially want to show how a little element of art can be found when photographers are given all the say. I want to show how that varies from photographer to photographer, even when the subjects (myself and my husband mostly) stay the same.

So basically the premise is this:

1.Find a photographer.

2. Give them free reign over the photoshoot.

3. Share the experience.

I have my first photoshoot ready for sharing already, and I’ve got a couple of other shoots planned so long, but if you’re keen to take part in this project or if you know someone who might be please do feel free to give me a shout so that we can set up a time to play together.

You Are Art

It’s mid-January already.You’ve probably been told that more than once in the last couple of days. Mid-January. Mid-January surely means that the scars of getting through the holidays should be fading by now. Are they?

When you’re The Mom Friend to a whole gaggle of people, this can be the time of year that you playing psychiatrist becomes quite the juggling act. Tensions don’t run quite as mildly as folks on Facebook would have us all believe. Super silly happy family! Look at us all. We love each other. We eat in peace once we have said our prayers. We look like an idealistic painting. Painted by fairies who bathe in the spittle of unicorns.

So it is at this time of year that I tend to contemplate what it means to be the outsider. What it means to be the black sheep of the family. What it means to be the misplaced loner who feels rather alien when it comes to family life. I consider them more at this time of year, not only because I feel them in a small way myself, but because I watch how this familial disconnect keeps happening to people I love. I see how the disapproval directed at them by close friends and family members – gathered together in the name of supposedly the most sacred of holidays for the Christian faith – breaks them into smaller pieces than they deserve to be broken into.

And all I can think is this: You are art.

Because maybe that is the answer. Maybe you are art. We have been told over and over that art seeks to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. And if we are to believe this statement – a statement that I personally hold to be an exceptional truth – then perhaps we are art. Perhaps we disturb the comfortable with our very beings. We may not be a provocative painting or a sculpture that begs questions, but I cannot help but believe that we are a disturbance in the very face of picturesque suburbia, or whatever your familial equivalent of that might be.

Our hair isn’t right.

We’ve dressed too shabbily.

We should really lose weight. Or gain weight.

That’s not polite conversation, we should stop bringing it up.

Have you tried a different shade of lipstick?

What are you doing with your life?

You’re not getting any younger, you know.

All the questions and the criticisms boil down to basically one thing: Why are you this way when you should be that way?

And maybe the answer is that you are art. You are a disturbance in the life of the comfortable. And you know what, my friend? That is such a beautiful thing. I am sorry that this is a hard time of year, one that brings judgements and accusations and  crippling self-doubt.

But you are art.

It hurts and it is a heavy burden.

But you are art.

You are a thorn in the side of those who are incapable of seeking to understand.

But you are art.

You are the most glorious of comforts.

You are the colour against a grey background.

You are dessert for breakfast.

You are art.

I’ve broken up with myself…

When the new year rolls around you inevitably find a slew of folks suggesting that you leave bad relationships in the past. This, of course, is sound advice, and I have followed it myself on quite a few occasions (it gets easier to do with practice). This year, however, the person I am parting ways with is myself.

Of course, the only reason I am putting it this way is because it sounds very dramatic and it will make you roll your eyes.

What I really mean though, is that my travel-loving adventurous self and my introverted curl-up-with-a-book-and-never-leave-home self are parting ways. But only in the blog sense. Unfortunately in the real world we share a body so we’re stuck with each other.

That’s right: I have finally listened to all the experts and I’m splitting my home-schooling blocked-author mom persona and my travel persona up, because honestly the combination doesn’t make sense even to me so I can only imagine how many raised eyebrows occur when folks land up here.

The travel self is being spoiled, because even though she is relatively new, she is still being allowed to keep the Passing the Open Windows url. The older self, that some of you might still know and love, will be adopting her namesake as a url and will be pondering life and sharing her facts and fictions over at Nadine Rose Larter. For now, you’ll have to forgive both sites for being stuck in a bit of a transition period. I like to think they’ll soon find stability.

Here’s wishing you all a great new year of positive changes and progressive happiness. I hope your 2017 is filled with the exact adventures that make your hearts sing!

 

Finally, Nadine!

Hello and welcome to Nadine Rose Larter – the url I should probably have been using this whole time. I do particularly love January and the hopefulness it incites (in me at least). This year I have made the decision to split my travel writings and my more personal writings (although let’s face it – probably those travel writings will still indulge in the personal from time to time) and I’ve moved all my non-travel-related musings over here. So welcome. Or something. This is already getting awkward…

The point is… I’m blogging under my own name now. So that one day if I actually ever finish writing the ten or so WIPs that I have going, I’ll totally have somewhere to share the news.

In the meantime I’ll just keep writing my nonsense!