Picture Love

Those of who take pictures and those of us who love pictures know this central truth. We take pictures to give some measure of permanence to things that are here today and gone tomorrow. The act of taking a picture is our way of fixing that memory in our minds and hearts. We line up in groups at family reunions and snap a picture. We mark our children’s first day of school with a quick photo. We spend a small fortune on wedding pictures. All so that we may remember what we hold dear.

A friend wrote today to ask if I could do her a small favor. Her brother-in-law had passed away suddenly. The family simply didn’t have many pictures of this person and they were scrambling to come up with a usable picture for his obituary. Could I crop out her brother-in-law from a group photo to create a small head shot for an obituary? I did my best, working from a small, low resolution image. And I was happy to help.

But all of this got me thinking about the practicality of photography. For all the talk of artful photographs, many of us would give anything to hold in our hands just one small reminder of those we love. To that printed picture we may apologize; we may pray; we may beg; we may weep; we may sing; we may be filled with joy or sorrow. But that picture is the thing that activates our nervous system so that we might feel anchored to all that holds meaning for us.

Mom at the Bedroom Window | Donna Hopkins, 2016

I’m taking a mental note to be sure to take pictures of the people I love.

The Bigger Picture

I love words like growth mindset and neuroplasticity and cognitive behavioral therapy. For me, these words represent hope and change and love and evolution. I try to balance these parts of myself, those that are stubborn and fierce and sometimes relentless in their pursuit of what might be better, with the other parts. Those that are peaceful and content and balanced and grateful and relaxed and accepting. This is a tightrope that I walk everyday. And, if I am honest, most of the time, it’s more like I am bouncing up and down on a see-saw than carefully stepping heel-to-toe on that tightrope. I find the whole process exhilarating.

Four Seasons & Ivy | Donna Hopkins, 2016

From Katherine Metzelaar, Shifting the focus: Praising what truly matters

What if we focused on praising qualities that really matter in others and in ourselves—like kindness, strength, or creativity? What if you celebrated what your body can do, rather than how it appears?

Here are some examples that you can try:

For Your Own Body:
“I’m really proud of my body for carrying me through today, even when I felt tired.”
“I’m thankful for my body for allowing me to move in ways that feel good.”
“I appreciate my body for nourishing me and helping me show up every day.”
“I’m proud of how my body has healed and grown over time.”
“I’m thankful for the energy my body gave me to accomplish everything today.”

For Another Person:
"You bring so much warmth and kindness to everyone around you."
"Your sense of humor always brightens the room."
"I admire how thoughtful you are"
"You inspire me with how dedicated you are to your passions."
“You have such a calming presence; I always feel at ease around you.”

By shifting the focus, you remove the pressure tied to appearance and help others feel valued for who they are, not just how they look.


Four Seasons & Ketchup | Donna Hopkins, 2025


From Annie Wright’s post When Your Professional Strengths Become Your Relationship Blindspots, “Emotional responsiveness is the bedrock of a secure relationship.”

My husband and I read every word of this article together as we work on securing and strengthening our marriage of 44 years. This work is absolutely worth it!

Four Seasons & Cigarettes | Donna Hopkins, 2016

Copying

I’m working on a new project, and I couldn’t grow and learn without copying.

I love Austin Kleon’s take on copying.

“Don’t just steal the style, steal the thinking behind the style. You don’t want to look like your heroes, you want to see like your heroes.”

I love taking pictures and creating photo books. And while I wish I could take a class at Maine Media Workshops and study with Eliot Dudik, those opportunities come with hefty price tags that are simply out of my reach financially. I do all of my work at our desktop and don’t even own a laptop, so I’m not sure how I’d benefit from some of the courses on bookmaking I read about (I’m talking about you Mary Virginia Swanson). Money (or the lack thereof) is a powerful creative constraint. And I thrive on constraints.

So I set about designing my own curriculum, driven by the desire to read and learn and practice. I give myself permission to make learning fun and follow the path that seems right for me.

A little more from Austin Kleon’s, Steal Like an Artist.

“The writer Wilson Mizner said if you copy from one author, it’s plagiarism, but if you copy from many, it’s research.”

For my current work, I pull from people and work that speaks to me, transforming their work into something of my own. Adding something to the world that only I can add.

You can keep up with my current project, A Guidebook For Small Travels - how to know very well your own little place in the world, over here. I’m opening up my process and inviting you in.

Making The Best of Things

The longer I practice, the more I realize that photography is about making the best of things. Not waiting for or trying to schedule around the perfect light but making the best of the light that is available now. Not rearranging every element in the frame. Yes, to walking around the subject, climbing high or stooping low to eliminate the unwanted and include the essential. But mostly, making the best of the way things are arranged. Taking advantage of the magic moments when the clouds drift, the petal floats, or a person sashays through the frame. Not waiting until you can afford the “right” camera. Not waiting till everyone has their hair and make-up done. Not waiting till you feel you have something to say or a project to pursue.

Make the best of what you have. Now.