Am I a good person? (or How Good Do We Have to Be?)

Variegated Hosta, Downtown Fredericksburg, Virginia, Spring 2023

I’ve been deep in the world of poet Maggie Smith. First, reading her book, You Could Make This Place Beautiful and then listening to her interview with Glennon Doyle on the podcast, We Can Do Hard Things, episode 209.

There’s a lot to love about Maggie Smith. The way she uses words to create poems that cut to the heart, for certain. But also her integrity in the face of betrayal. And her willingness to step away from blame and guilt and see both sides of the street. While I have thankfully never experienced the trauma of infidelity within my marriage, I do know what it feels like to be betrayed. I tried my best to respond with integrity, too—accepting that I had a role in the fracture. But taking that high road is really, really hard.

I keep coming back to some central questions as I live into my sixties. I wonder how much of my life I have devoted to the need to be “good.” Has this been worthwhile? Or has my desire to be good limited my ability to be whole and human?

Maggie’s words resonate with me . . .

Yeah, you don’t want to take up too much space, you don’t want to upset people or make them feel bad or come across as demanding or as self-important. I mean, all of these things, a lot of it is I’m a Midwestern mom at my core, and so I’m supposed to be, what? What is the story? I’m supposed to be accommodating, self-sacrificing, available. I’m not supposed to want too much, I’m definitely not supposed to be too demanding, I’m not supposed to be angry, I’m not allowed to be sad, I need to be grateful.

On the surface this might seem to have little to do with photography, but I see myself in every picture. There is definitely gratitude and this is good. But there’s also a lot of self-doubt and holding back for fear that I might be too much in any one of hundred different ways.

Reading Maggie’s book, I felt seen. And in the pictures that I make, roll after roll of film, I see myself, too.

For All Those Who Hold Us in their Hearts and Call Us Home

Daffodils, Spotsylvania Battlefield, April 2023

It’s a shame

when a child must parent
when self lies hidden
when perfection is the only protection
when everything is fine

when yes should be no
when the horizon must always be straight
and every breath requires effort

when copying feels safe
and finding truth like a maze of mirrors

to wonder all the time
Is this what I’m supposed to do?

to rekindle frustration and grief
over what might have been

to take a lifetime to close one chapter
and move on to the next

It’s a shame
But nothing to be ashamed of

The Change

Snead’s Asparagus Farm, Caroline County, May 2023

I find great comfort in these words from Deb Benefield. Deb is a dietician but her work extends far beyond the boundaries of eat this, not that.

Midlife means Change. Heck, menopause was actually called "The Change" when I was a kid. Most of what is familiar in your life, including your body, begins to shift under your feet. Most, if not all, of these changes, are outside your control.
Kids grow up.
Marriages may shift.
Friends and family members get sick and pass on.
Careers don't feel quite the same.
Your clothes no longer fit.
Your body doesn't work the way it once did.
Understandably, you want to white-knuckle around how you eat and exercise, grasping for something to hold steady through the storm.
The thing is, this time of transition is actually an opening! This time can be your chance to reclaim your desire, pleasure, comfort, power, and freedom.

I have been trying to white-knuckle this entire season of my life. Trying to maintain. To find fault and fix. To control, manage, and cope. All of this as a way to hold on. And I’ve seen not holding on or holding up as some kind of failure on my part.

Even in this space, I’ve tried to corral my pictures. Set them into projects. Force posts into formats and schedules.

All of this, rather than simply accepting and celebrating what is.

There is a clearing ahead, and it centers on gratitude. What a welcome relief!

A few notes on collaboration. There are a lot of variables in photography and as much as we may think of photography as a solo pursuit, the work really thrives with collaboration. That might be a conversation with a friend who gets it or even better gets you. It might be a long-term project with a fellow photographer building a body of work or creating a photo book. Or it might just be the relationship you cultivate with your photography lab. The photographs in this post were developed and scanned by theFINDlab, and I couldn’t be happier with the results. These folks are awesome. They were kind enough to provide feedback and it was really interesting to have the input and get out of my own head.

These were all extremely well shot and were a pleasure to edit! You captured the town so well and made all of us want to go there as well. We especially loved frames 1 and 11.

You did very well adapting in multiple lighting situations and making sure that you had enough light.

You shot very well for your preferences and you have some gorgeous shots here!

Keep up the great work! Thank you for choosing TheFINDLab!

This photo of the old crab apple tree with the bee boxes in the background, taken at Braehead Farm, was not a first-love of mine. But when the folks at the lab shared that they loved frame 11, I went back and took a second look. And fell in love with every last detail. Love grows.

Photos I took in the Month of April

If we opened people up, we’d find landscapes. —Agnès Varda

Quilts on the line, Spotsylvania Courthouse, April 2023

In-the-Making.

To make sense of the world. A really good book. “You Could Make This Place Beautiful” by Maggie Smith.

To make me laugh and give me perspective. More Wiser Than Me podcasts with Julia Louis-Dreyfus. Not self-help. Funny and irreverent. Entertaining. A beautiful testament to the many ways to age where one size does not fit all.

To make life sweet. Sugar-Crusted Raspberry Muffins. (The myth of sugar addiction has been debunked. Why did I ever believe the endless diatribe of diet and wellness culture?)

To make way for a new project. I generally prefer to take pictures of whatever I am drawn to first, and then edit later. But sometimes it is overwhelming to sort and sift through my work and see the direction, the theme, the whole from the pieces. To help with this process of editing and sequencing photos, I often tape pictures to my dining room wall. This is effective but somewhat damaging to the wall. And so, I ordered felt wall tiles from Felt Right. My design is 4 feet x 5 feet. Square tiles, with a shiplap pattern, in a neutral ash color. I can arrange and re-arrange small versions of my favorite photographs using push pins. The wall is beautiful and the felt acts to dampen the sound in this room with lots of hard surfaces. It was super easy to install and I am totally pleased. (I do realize that it’s an easy thing to create a storyboard in Lightroom, but I am old-school and love the physicality of prints and movement.)

To make pictures. I’m using a Pentax 645N medium format film camera. I love that it’s much like an SLR experience. But unlike a complicated digital SLR camera, there is absolutely nothing about the camera that I find unnecessary. (Really, I’m tired of paying for the fanciest model when I only need the bare bones. This goes for cameras, cars, kitchen gadgets, clothes, phones, and a bunch of other stuff.)

To make prints. I’m ordering test pictures from several photo printing services. ProDPI. Nations Photo Lab. I’ve tried several labs over the last month and the variability is significant. I’m looking for an affordable service with quality results. I’m super picky about prints.

I finish the book by Maggie Smith and ask myself, How can I make this place beautiful? The answer is surprisingly simple. Pick up the camera and notice.