Thursday, February 5, 2015

transitioning to the new year & photo project

 January was a strange transitional month. Much of myself is still stuck in the previous year, always filtering and analyzing my life. Now that February has arrived, I sense a little more courage in myself to step into this new year. 

I have taken on myself a little blogging project. At the beginning of each month, I hope to post photos taken from the month before. These images I took throughout the month of January with my DSLR camera and, then, I edited them with Photoshop Lightroom 5. I am so thankful I finally have these tools to begin enjoying small and personal artistic endeavors. 

I know now that I can make it through more than I thought, with less than I thought. I know better than to believe that the changes are over, and I know better than to believe the next ones will be easier, but I've learned the hard way that change is one of God's greatest gifts and one of his most useful tools. 

// Shauna Niequist //

 // 01/30/15 // It snowed today. A gentle and quiet surprise. //
 In seasons of hiddenness our sense of value is disrupted, stripped of what "others" affirmed us to be. In this season God intends to give us an unshakeable identity in Him, that no amount of adoration nor rejection can alter. 
// Alicia Britt Chole //


I was gripped by a fierce nostalgia before and during the capture of this last image. Then, the thought came to me, when will the colors of my life's seasons merge to create this kind of glory?

New Mexico has a startling, wild beauty. I could not settle here, but I have enjoyed its landscapes.

Whenever it snows, I think of this poem by Sara Teasdale:

I stood beside a hill 
Smooth with new-laid snow 
A single star looked out 
From the cold evening glow 
There was no other creature 
That saw what I could see 
I stood and watched the evening star 
As long as it watched me.

Beautiful images, words, poetry, and songs. I'm committed to keeping these beautiful things always in the forefront of my life. I feel a soft joy in collecting these things, a chance to be wholly myself.

No comments:

Post a Comment