three hundred and sixty five special days documented with dancing light, digital sensors, and thin emulsions on film.
one whole year.
a year full of dear things. dear friends. dear memories.
I cannot believe it's over.
out of three hundred and sixty five days, I only skipped ten times. that's a lot. and I'm ashamed. but still.
I have grown immensely as an artist and as a person during this process.
there's nothing more challenging and wonderful as forcing yourself to create something nice every day.
many days I have felt distracted by the harsh realities of this world and the only thing to focus my mind on what really matters has been to grab my cameras and walk and see things.
I have appreciated my lovely and patient friends for being my fascinating subjects and letting me pose them as I want to or redo their hair or paint their faces or countless other ridiculous things I've done to them to get a photograph I'm satisfied with.
this project has been one of the many things that has helped me see that making pictures is in my blood and I can't escape it's call.
I will continue to photograph the world until I cease breathing.
Today I watched a little documentary on the making of Noah and the Whale's album Last Night on Earth. Then there was a little cyber-chat thing where people could ask questions and Charlie Fink would answer. These are my favorite answers:
Above all, this is my favorite question/answer:
Charlie, how is your hair made so perfect? We all want to know!
little whispers echo in the hollow of my ears. while the cold (drip) rain (drop) falls quickly (drip) on my windshield (drop). it is Friday the 13th and the emotions pulsing through the Earth are all gloom and despair. until the laughter and smiles of kindred spirits come. and sadness is shooed away and replaced with a contented joy.
sometimes, I'm so scared of change my heart shakes like droplets on a dangling leaf.
Today was the last creek kids of the semester. and maybe the last one I can make until late July.
21 candy bags were made, bubbles were purchased, and face paint was packed. When my faithful helpers and I arrived at Rainbow Creek, no children were waiting on the playground as we've so often seen before. After knocking on some doors and asking around, three children came.
We've averaged 8-12 kids for this whole semester. For the last big blast, three kids are there. At this point, I'm thinking "so uh, God, what are you trying to say here?"... By the end of the night, after layers and layers of face paint were applied to my face, I was so happy we came.
I'm still wondering what exactly God wanted me to learn. Maybe He wanted to humble me, or maybe He wanted me to learn to rely on others, or maybe I'm not really supposed to know what He was doing right now. I'm kind of clueless.
All this to say, Creek Kids has been such a blessing and I cannot and will not ever forget all of the kids that came.
Someone I know recently talked about practicing what he called "awareness". He talked about just being aware of his surroundings, his thoughts, and his emotions as much as he can. I've been trying to add being "aware" to my list of everyday activities. It's actually harder than you would think.
The past few days, when I've truly absorbed everything around me and everything I'm feeling internally, I've been amazed at how much I miss.
Tonight, I was surprised by a scary picture of Jenny as a clown when she was a child and by Jonathan coming to Chattanooga State's Fine Arts celebration thing.
I was quickly aware of how much I love surprises, my friends, and life in general.