Things I’m thinking about this morning . . .

  • from Paul Sanders’ newsletter: stop pressuring yourself to be a good or great photographer, none of us are, we are just here to enjoy our time with the camera, it is not about being the best. I say this so often but photography is not a popularity competition, yes it is lovely if people enjoy our work but the prime motivation for photography is self expression, not pleasing others.

  • projects from Kelly Burgess: this was the year i planted no roses and sing me back home

  • and how did I not know about this nonprofit arts organization advancing mental health advocacy through photography?! Too Tired Project

  • from Jamie Varon, Radically Content: “And I want to feel good. I want to be happy. I want to continue to heal. I want to be a person who understands the intricacies of joy. I want to be content. And satisfied. I am deeply earnest now.”

  • real life stuff like the beginnings of a headache, a dentist appointment this afternoon, and what the heck will I make for dinner tonight.

While I am waiting for MILK Photo Books to have a sale, because who prints a book on demand without a discount, I’m continuing to work on A Map of One’s Life.

I’ve added a few more pictures—two photos from the Archives that helped to tell a missing part of the story and bridge a color transition, and two new photos from Class and Trash. I really can’t make a map of Route 1 or of my life without including a thrift, junk or antique shop, because that just wouldn’t reflect my authentic life.

Letting a project simmer gives the time and perspective needed to rearrange, sequence, add or subtract images.

I also added a new photo, just made yesterday, an industrial view of teal-colored scaffolding set against a backdrop of colorful containers. This type of photography, which I think of as vernacular landscape, is fairly new to me. I’ve been putting my 35mm lens through its paces and even wishing I had something a bit wider. I’ve also had to reckon with my lack of intuition about what is straight or lined-up with the proper perspective. One of my secret talents is being able to eyeball typical measurements (this comes from years of sewing quarter and half-inch seams) and finding the perfect sized container for leftovers or storing a big batch of granola or a dozen homemade cookies. But these skills don’t seem to translate to making a photo that is not cattywampus. I’ve tried using the fancy feature on Lightroom that straightens photos but sometimes the corrections don’t ring true and I’m left to my own devices. More to learn—always!



Just finished a new project, A Map of One’s Life.

I suspect we all have these well-worn paths in our lives, where we make memories and mark time. These kinds of maps are not about milestones or accomplishments. Not about how far we have to go but rather how far we have come. These maps seldom include keys or clear directions, but somehow we make our way.

The landmarks of our lives are often those small things that go almost unnoticed—until they aren’t there anymore or are changed by the ravages of time. In much the same way that we miss those little things about a loved one once they are gone, and wish so much to have just one more chance to love them, the map of our life reminds us of what matters most. It is a living breathing testament to all that we are. A good map can bear witness to a life well-lived, folded and tattered, trusted and true.

Ashland Milling Co. | Route 1 | Virginia