Photos for days.
I have long considered myself far less easily labeled than by the term singer songwriter‚ÄĚ. While I adore that form of expression more than any (I have found that god most palpably comes into the room when the lyrics take flight through melody at the same time), I consider it merely one expression among many.
One form that started out more as a nuisance to others, more than anything else, was my love of taking photographs (‚Äėlook over here everybody!‚ÄĒI’m embarrassed to say that I am THAT girl at family gatherings etc. even my dog knows when the camera is on him).
I have collected more than 70,000 photographs in my many archives, all of which represent different phases of my life. In my reflective times over the years I get a chance to look back over photos of trips that I had forgotten I’d even taken (as an introvert, I have a shitty short-term memory ?). And in a world where rites of passage and celebratory rituals of one’s coming-of-age is sadly forgotten, I find that looking through photographs nudges me to honor these different experiences in life.
I have so many photos now (candids, profesh, people, no people etc) on my laptop to share for many millennia (my friends laugh because they say I live my life simply to share stories with my future great-grandchildren, and, well, they’re right).
so as I continue forward with my experience junkie‚ÄĚ approach to life, I find myself tickled and moved and choked up at some of the images that mark my 36 years of this life. These photos I share with you are ones taken all over this wild planet. Ones from the many tours around the planet. Vacations. Adventures. Family visits. Mudane afternoons. I share them with you with passion, embarrassment and joy.