One of the cool things about keeping a photo journal is how, over time, I sometimes wind up with pictures of the same subject matter, but the feeling of the images can be entirely different.Last night I shot a photograph of our cat, Basil, sitting near our front door. Several months ago I did a picture of my own shadow in the evening light, also at the front door. Both pictures were shot from exactly the same spot, with the same camera and the same visual elements: Something white (the door.) Something black (the cat; my shadow.)
I don’t usually sit around and analyze my pictures. I shoot something and move on. But in this case I’m having a weird kind of fun, looking at these two very different slices of life at our front door (I suspect this is just me, thinking too much.)
A number of times over the years I’ve resolved to keep a written journal. I’ll write for a day or two, maybe a month. Then I feel like what I’m writing is dumb. Or I feel like the writing is just too hard. Or maybe I simply lose interest (probably because the writing is too hard.)
A photo journal, however--well that kind of diary feels quite natural to me.
I was talking on the phone yesterday with my friend Tara, a young wife and mother. She just got a new point-and-shoot camera and I gave her a few tips on how to set it up. We talked tech-talk--camera blah blah blah--just long enough for Tara to know how her camera operates. Then I gave her this sage advice: Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.
I’m happy for my friend. She has young children and a husband and flowers in her yard and a new camera. Even over the phone I could sense how excited she was to start playing with her new toy.
Me, I’m going to take my camera and go see what’s happening near my front door. Chances are there's something cool.
