We’re in the midst of a string of rainy days. Overcast skies with alternating drizzle and down pour.
I allowed extra time to travel to my counselor’s office for an afternoon appointment. I like to gather my thoughts and review my journal before the visit.
I walked around the parking lot, embraced by the raindrops, wondering what picture I might make for the day. Replaying a phone conversation in my head regarding an upcoming show for my photographs in our local library, I reconsidered my words. Despite the kindness of the librarian, I doubted my work and wondered why anyone would even want to buy one of my photographs. To hedge off hurt, I am afraid to hope. And this is why I am here at the door of a helping professional – not to fill the emptiness from old wounds but to embrace it as one piece of the whole.
While our egos are seeking pretty photos, our passions are willing to stumble to make beautiful ones. Our passion reminds us that our photos are not just photos, they are our insecurities, our wonder, our beauty and our hurt. –Henry Lohmeyer