Ever so often I open the wonderous caverns that are my photo libraries. There was a time in my life that I took my camera everywhere and I took photos of everything. Days that differ from now when my camera rarely sees the light of day. Facebook memories and timehop remind me of all I used to photograph and all I used to say. I often said to much. I probably still do. There was always a constant commentary of what we were doing or what I was feeling. As I have gotten older, I’ve tried to squash it because I know or I feel I’ve used people up. It’s not nice to use people up.
The commentary bothers me. Almost embarrases me but the photos? So much joy.
I love watching the children grow and grow again. In photographs, in stills. In photos that it doesn’t matter if the color balance is perfect or the composition tight. I find joy in the photos when my camera was just a toy.
My Drew. That sweater. He wore in Kindergarten where as Dexter wore it for his school photos just last year. The photo of Drew reminds me of how big Dexter is as well as how small Drew is and was. I loved stumbling on that photo. Watching Davis change from a tiny boy up at bat, to a child with a real swing and real dream to play ball in school. Photos reminded me of that.
They have reminded me of when Devlynn was too little to know the stress of high school or when there was no talk about buying her a car or her leaving home. I get to relive the moments when we welcomed her to the world all the way up to the first time she wore a pair of really nice shoes.
My camera, my toys brought me those joys.
I have a lot of toys I guess. I enjoy creating. Be it behind the lens or with paper and pen. I find a lot of joy in sewing. Making something for someone to be warm under or in. Something that will wrap them with my love. I take a lot of time and care making each Halloween costume, each Easter basket. I love knowing how special my child feels in the costume that doesn’t look like anyone else’s. I get joy from the comments. I like hearing that I am a good maker.
Vanity, joy in vanity. Terrible confession, *wink*.
We’re all granted gifts I think. I sometimes wonder what mine really is. I love trying to do lots of things but I never really know what it is I am really good and what it is I just love learning to try to do.
I wonder if I just stuck with one thing would I get really good at it or really bored. Would the sound of a sewing machine still make me as happy as it does now. How it makes me think of my Grandma Esther and how her craft closet smelled. What it felt like to twirl in the dresses she made for me with the machine I look at all the time.
Joys in toys. Joys in gifts. I love to create, make and I hope it brings others joy too.