What’s limiting you today?
I don’t know what you are facing. I don’t know what anxieties keep you awake at night and what stresses are waiting for you in the morning. But I know you can make it. I know heartbreak may seem the thing that is going to win, but I am urging you: Hold on. I know the road seems long and with no end in sight, but there is a destination on that horizon.
I’m telling you this because I need to hear it myself. I constantly battle my own stresses, anxieties, fears, and hesitations over not being good enough, not talented enough, not driven enough, not successful enough. I haven’t done enough. I haven’t risked enough. I am not making enough of the precious time I have on this earth. And on and on it goes.
And then I am reminded of how much I have accomplished; how much I am truly blessed in life; and how, no matter how many seconds I have left on this earth, I have not reached the end of that road.
And so I hold fast to hope.
P.S. This blog has been languishing for far too long. That's changing. Because I'm tired of the regret I have every time I don't invest in what I say I care about. So, I'm focusing on breathing new life into it, sharing photos as much as I'm sharing my thoughts. I hope you enjoy reading.
Better late than never. I didn't have time to blog this great session with the Snider family before my wife and I went to New Jersey for Christmas. I had a fantastic time with Andy (who just relaunched his blog!), Pam and their family capturing some images here in Santa Clarita. Here's a few of my favorites.
Married 17 years and still rockin' the camera like newlyweds.
I've now had the opportunity to take family photos for Maria and Tom several times. It's always a pleasure to capture families at different stages of their life. I had a great time capturing images of them, their daughter and their dog, Oz, at Mentryville, a historic oil town on the edge of the valley.
That said, here's one of my favorite portraits of late, of Bernie, a super-dedicated volunteer at the Senior Center where I work.
Probably a lot more posting come soon, with some exciting shoots on the horizon.
My first day on the job, a fellow reporter gave me a walk-through of the paper. Where the bathroom was, where the break room was. The tour capped off with the cavernous pressroom, that she described to me as a good place to blow off steam now and then.
Over the next few years I would blow off a lot of steam in that room. Sometimes I'd wander back there mid-day when it was quiet. It was like a hushed, industrial cathedral, the only sound my steps and breaths, inhaling the incense of ink and paper, afternoon light pouring through the windows. Sometimes I'd stalk back there late in the evening, at the tail end of a tiresome shift, when the room was alive. The hulking old machine whirring whirring whirring and pressmen shouting their conversations.
But I couldn't help feel a pang of nostalgia and loss when I heard of the paper's recent decision to outsource its printing to another location.
Change can certainly be a good thing. Physical newspapers will probably continue to be phased out. And that will have certain benefits. But there is nothing quite like seeing, hearing, feeling and smelling a product through from start to finish — from the haggard reporter on the phone culling facts, to papers coming off the press to be prepped for delivery, all under one roof.