Photography is something that I love, something that I [used to] want to learn as much as I could about. But over the past two/three years I have hardly picked up my camera. When I think back and try to pinpoint why I put it down, the only thing I keep going back to is someone very close to me found out some very bad news. With their life being turned upside down because of sickness I felt guilty capturing happy moments. Honestly, I didn’t just stop taking pictures, I stopped enjoying life. I sank back into depression and I didn’t even try to fight it.
It wasn’t until David, in a not-so-pleasent-way, helped me to see that my depression was not just affecting me, but our family. The thing that hit me the hardest is when he asked, how can you even begin to help her when you can’t even get out of the bed? I felt ashamed and selfish.
This post was supposed to be about getting back into photography. I guess it all ties together somehow 🙂
I miss it. So much! When I look through my Flickr account or the many folders I have on the computer, I feel like there are so many moments missing. Moments that I didn’t capture, a smile, a birthday, a surprise, a kite being flown, games being played, and even the unpleasant, a messy room, a pile of laundry or a pile of shoes.
I am determined to pick my camera back up, to get in the habit of having it with me and ready to go. My goal is not to become a professional photographer by any means. I just want to document the moments in our lives, no matter how big or small, good lighting or bad lighting, blurry pictures and all. I want to be able to look back through the snapshots of our lives and remember when.