Polly and Petunia

 

I judge myself, like too many other women. I judge me harshly and often. The gremlin voice in my mind demands perfection. Her nickname is Polly and she can be a real bitch. Her frenimy is the gremlin voice in my head that promotes procrastination as a way to escape Polly's rants. Petunia means well, but, she messes with my ability to get things done. These chicks put me in a tough spot. 

As any regular reader knows my creative outlet is photography and the passion project that keeps me sane is Laughing Goddess Photography Heck, even in my worst days of writer's block (blog, er, what blog?) you could count on me to rally for Photo Finish Friday and the occasional Wordless Wednesday. Plus, there was the joy of instagram! Ah, the pure unadulterated bliss of sharing a neat picture. That moment when your eye catches something cool so you snapped it. 

And so I entered a world of photos. The joy of seeing what others saw that piqued their fancy and brought them a smile. Then I began to notice how perfect those photos looked. The spotlessly clean, bright white kitchens. The endless supply of flowers arranged 'just so' next to the teapot and cup (with saucer) on a precious tray. Gads these trays were everyplace. Perched on ottomans in gray walled living rooms, flanked by mountains of pillows on fluffy white duvet covers.  I was  (still am) mesmerized by the voyeristic moments peeking into a veritable stranger's home. I swooned with the best of them over the expanses of white marble countertops only to learnwhite quartz can 'look marble.' 

Suddenly, the happy gleam I saw in the donkey's eye at the petting zoo seemed dull. The rosy apples and charming racks of jams and spices were... drab. I started to photoshop ~ a lot ~ in an effort to produce the coveted, curated IG Feed. I mean, I spent more time and energy on snapshots than I did on client photos. My philosophic mantra of The World As I See It was compromised. The world, once riddled with moments of common beauty lost it's luster and I listened to Petunia as she suggested " We keep the camera holstered. Don't want to wake Polly."

The turning of the new year brought a time of reflection which in turn demanded nagging of this neglected space nagged be addressed. As I set about the clutter clearing rituals for a new year (and getting the paperwork from the year past in line for the tax man) I was realized I was no longer living for me or the moment. I had pumped the brakes ~ hard ~ and stalled. 

That's what these photos are ~ my way to capture the moment. They aren't perfect: some are blurry in the wrong places, some are grainy, maybe the light was wrong. Yet, something about that subject, that moment drove the impulse to focus, aim and snap the shutter. Those somethings are the somethings. The moments of joy, of sadness, silly faces, strutting peacocks being chased by children. Moments worth memorializing so long after the day is past they can spark the memory of that day.

That day the weather was perfect and we played in the surf and ate lemon ices.

That day the chickens staunchly defended their lunch plates from the pigeons and we laughed riding camels. 

It's the second to last Monday in January and I'm knee deep in Manifesto Making; less sure about somethings than I was when I began. What do I know?

I am The Laughing Goddess. Perfection be damned I'll be Disturbing the IG Universe one perfectly imperfect moment at a time all year. Join me if you dare!?