They say that what you take pictures of is what you see as important. I remember the first camera I had. It was a cheap one that took 35mm film. That excitement of taking pictures…then I paid for development. The disappointment of the pictures were so blurry and disjointed.
It was enough to be a reason why I didn’t take pictures for years. That camera was a painful thing from my teen years. If digital ones had been available I would have figured out how to do more with them, but it was just not a thing. I could have used a Polaroid but they were expensive and I was poor.
So when my youngest child was born my friend bought me a new digital one. I took thousands of pictures of my daughter and her cousin. Babies are so good at looking adorable even if the one holding the camera is not good at the setting up the shot.
That camera was stolen when we had “friends” over for a Christmas dinner. But by that point I had a smart phone. So I kept learning about taking pictures.
Now I still have the random awful picture, but I have learned to accept that I don’t have to be a professional quality photographer. I take pictures of what I want to remember and when I look at the picture I have a memory. Sometimes I even have a good picture.
So, I ask you… what do you photograph? And are you any good at it? Or like me do you just have memories and the occasional good shot?
so I have been making future poetry volume covers… whether I ever get to write them… I enjoy creating them. WordPress doesn’t yet have the space for me to share my pictures…. so I have been putting them on Facebook in a public album. so I wanted to share my joy on my birthday. I am hoping that the link works. if not… look up my fb page (pattimouseauthor) and it is one of my public albums.
My daughter is actually too smart for my own good.
We were having a conversation and she got slightly aggravated with me. I know she probably phrased it slightly differently but the gist of what she said was that she had heard me tell her father that I don’t see him as the villain, and I don’t want him to be my hero. Her question was “well why the hell not? who rescues you?”
I don’t know how to explain to her that I don’t want to be rescued. I am my own hero…. and I tried to tell her that. She said that she had never seen me choose myself over them. I have always chosen the best for her and him. She said she didn’t understand. I chose the best for the best part of my life. How do I even begin to explain it?
She is my whole world. Don’t get me wrong, I love my other two children but I didn’t get to raise either of them… and then add in the two miscarriages I had before her. I can’t have any more children. I wanted a house full when I was younger. I found having her was enough.
She always seems to know what to say and when I just need her to be around. She has such a delightful eclectic taste in music and an artistic bent. She is so empathetic and she has a definite view of the world.
So, she is my whole reason to want to be a better person. And she gets mad at me for not being selfish.
Who will save you? The voices want to end me With words just like a blade Cutting pieces from me ‘Til nothing remains, ’til I go insane Eyes in the mirror that cannot be mine Beggin’ this stranger, “Get out of my mind” Fear overcomes me when I realize It’s only me I keep on screamin’, “Help!” I cannot breathe, someone save me from this hell Trapped in this fight, all I can find is myself Alone in my mind, demons come to life (who will save you?) And over time, demons come to life Masters of seduction And I like how they dance Feeding my addiction I play their game, another hit of pain Eyes in the mirror that cannot be mine Beggin’ this stranger, “Get out of my mind” Fear overcomes me when I realize It’s only me I keep on screaming, “Help!” I cannot breathe, someone save me from this hell Trapped in this fight, all I can find is myself Alone in my mind, demons come to life (who will save you?) And over time, demons come I’m not well, I wish I was happy The world can’t help, ’cause this storm’s inside me Still, I try, I’m tryin’ to change But there’s something broken, fucked up in my brain Partum my demons, there’s no reason Part of me wants to be stuck in this dream, and I can’t save me I can’t save me (Who will save you?) I can’t save me (Who will save you?) I can’t I keep on screaming, “Help!” (Who will save you?) I cannot breathe, someone save me from this hell (who will save you?) Trapped in this fight, all I can find is myself (who will save you?) Alone in my mind (in my mind), demons come to life (who will save you?) And over time, demons come to life Who will save me when demons come to life? (Who will save you?) Who will save me when demons come to life? (Who will save you?) Who will save me? (When demons come to life) When demons come to life I’m not well, I wish I was happy (wish I was happy) Demons come to life
My 2 Cents –
this is a hard time of year for my mental health. my birthday is the 13th and I am still trying to figure out how I managed to live this long.
Okay I have been trying to figure out what to do with my stuff that gets accepted to anthologies and the like. Serena has a volume she was putting things in… but I was not sure if it was even a thing I needed.
You see I rarely send my stuff out. If I do submit, it is usually to my own publishing company. Not as a guarantee of publishing but instead as a decorative element for the Anthologies I am putting together. I don’t think that I have the energy to send my work to be judged.
I may feel inclined to send in to one or two projects… but I don’t see it being a big deal. So I think that I want to keep a open volume… much like Anthology Alumni and then release it when I feel like it is ready.
The next volume like that is going to be Jotted Memories.
Pattimouse 