Diary of a Mad Photographer

I'm giddy. Lighthearted. Overwhelmed. Overcome. This 365 project thing has changed me. Changed me.

How is that possible?

One picture per day. That's all I thought I was doing. Simply taking a few minutes to find something special, something that speaks to my lens. But it's become so much more than that. It's about reconnecting, reconnecting with life, reconnecting with the sun and the wind, reconnecting with grasses and flowers and insects and trees.

It's finding myself again, tiny pieces of me I left scattered about and gluing it all back together. My camera is once again an extension of my hand, an extension of my brain, a permanent part of my anatomy.

What? You think I've lost it? Didn't I already tell you that?

I find myself asking how many moments like these have passed me by in the last few months. How many special times did I miss, sitting on my couch, head stuck to my computer? Was there that one big thing, that one huge momentous occasion, and I was asleep? Did some rare flower bloom? Some unusual insect crawl by? Did the sunrise light up a particular way?

Was I sleeping? Or writing? Or cooking? Or watching TV?

I feel like I've awakened. My eyes are finally open, and my head is clear. Photography awaits all around me.

I've lost it; I tell you. Yet I've gained it as well. I've gained the love and desire I had for it before, before other things took my time away. And it was so simple. Such a simple process.

One picture. One.

One means I don't have to look for more. What a relief that is. Less pressure because I only need one. One and I'm done. It even rhymes.

One, but what a challenge that is. Get up and dress for work. Walk the dog. Check my emails. Make my writing promos. Wake my daughter up. Wake my daughter up again. Find breakfast. Drag myself to the car. Sit at my office desk all day. Come home. Make supper. Clean the kitchen. Where in all of that is time for one shot? Where?

Yet I find it each day. It's that moment when my husband fed the cows next door. Yes, I said "cows". It's a lady bug crawling on a plum blossom that I only sighted through my lens. It's a cold morning fog drifting over the yard, spreading out the over the sun. It's flowers blossoming along the fence line, the moon rising whole in the blackened sky. It's spring coming early and winter hanging late.

And it's rewarding. That's the biggest surprise, the reward. I've never taken photographs to get noticed. I've certainly never taken them to get paid. Money's nice and all, but meh. I take photographs to remember. If you've read my column long enough, you know that. Remembering alone is the greatest reward.

Yet there's more reward than that. I find reward also in the comments. That someone sees one of my daily pictures and it brightens their day. That they laughed at the cows or admired the azalea blossom or found poetry in the sunrise. That it made them want to write or paint or simply inspired them to pick up a camera on their own.

There is my reward. My reward is in you. You the reader, who took the time to read this diary, the diary of a mad photographer, mad insane, mad joyous, mad happy. A photographer who's never looking back, who can't wait for what's coming up, who sees possibilities in the future.

Join me on my journey. Hook up with my blog or bookmark my 365project album and see what a nut I've become.

Suzanne Williams | Blog

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.