Sometimes, being a photographer is like this for me. It can take weeks to recover from a wedding, where I don’t feel like picking up the camera at all. And then all of a sudden, I’m in a funk. And I don’t feel like picking up the camera, either. Uninspired, not at all remembering the joy behind just clicking the shutter button. Feeling like I see nothing of value worth documenting.
But that’s not true, is it? Because everything around me is special to me– the people around me are special to me– so everything is worth photographing. J also says my eye doesn’t see things the way his sees them, so that’s something that makes the photography worth it to him, too. So, this is evidence that the depression is lying to me.
I’m on my second morning of light therapy and today I’ve decided is a good day for reformatting all the memory cards and getting some good shots of the boys.
It sounds silly, but sometimes I’ll just sit with the camera in the living room and put it up to my eye and click whatever I see right in front of me. Just to remember that I am, indeed, a photographer. The scenes are ordinary, but they’re mine and sometimes this exercise leads to a spurt of creativity where something else comes out of just sitting there– where I get up and go outside, or get up and find something still-life to photograph. The exercise is a jumping off point. Not intentionally but almost always a jumping off point.