I think it. I do. I think I need to get out more… Then I remember that I’m out all the gosh darn time! What I mean is I need to see some new stuff, new people and do different things. I read blogs from around the world and I smile at the charming tales of daily life and think, wow I need to get out more. I need to be a little more fearless about taking my camera with me. I need to explore the hidden corners of this place I live and just look deeper.
Photos are my new thing. I’m reading lots. Learning lots. And dreaming of big fancy equipment I could never need.Did you know my Dad used to take photos. He had a talent and an eye for it. I’ve seen the albums, he was really very good. I wonder sometimes if these things are ingrained in some ways. The idea that I can look through a viewfinder and see the world in a similar way to my Dad did 40 years ago.
That’s nice don’t you think? Comforting. Comforting because the way light shines and bounces is the same. The rules and ideas of a photo are the same in principle. Even the colours of the sunset and sunrise are the same. The green of leaves, same. I like that feeling of consistency. It holds me like a warm hug in my father’s arms. Just like he always has been there, so too has the air I breathe.
It might seem that comforting consistency may be in opposition to the urge to see new things. But it’s not, they run the same path. The world doesn’t look the same way to me as it did to my father all those years ago. Not entirely. Time has changed things as it does. Even the viewfinder I look through is attached to something that was a twinkle of an idea decades before.
That feeling, the duality of it, encourages me to jump into the unknown. To look further afield and yet take that familiarity, the warmth of the same sun old and go. To get out more.
Chief Blogger at Suger Coat It; An Australian lifestyle blog for women who work for themselves. Melissa is a social media consultant & lover of stripes. Most weekends you’ll find her at the beach or home on the veranda kicking back. Around here, they call her Suger. Feel free to do the same.