I’m behind in posting my daily photos this month. There is so much life happening here every day — homeschooling, games, play, getting ready for spring, house projects, spring snow, more spring snow . . . and I’m catching just little bits of it on the camera.
Recently, the girls were looking through some photo books from the past couple of years with Wallace, and as I listened to them reflecting on the pictures, and remembering moments together, I realized how these daily photos have — collectively — come to mean something to them.
I started a 365 project in 2016 primarly for myself. These were my goals then: To nurture my creative voice. To encourage myself to see beauty in our everyday life. To be an active part of a photography community. And to see my family more deeply, with more dimension, and with more reverence.
When I continued taking daily photos in 2017, my goal was “to keep practicing the arts of photography and writing and use these tools as a way to pay attention and express gratitude.” I’ve continued in 2018, with a similar goal. Taking photos does help me to pay attention. Seeing though the lens of a camera has become one of the very important ways that I practice gratitude. Because of this, these photos matter deeply to me.
But years from now, I hope these photos will also matter, in different ways — in ways I maybe cannot imagine — to my children.
I’m trying to channel some of this uncertainty so many of us are feeling into hope and creative work. Jeffrey, the girls, and Wallace have been helping me work on a piece about our favorite games for an upcoming wild+free homeschool magazine. This little man may just grow up to be our most enthusiastic game player!
Six children for six hours!
Triumphant girls beat their Papa! Wallace joins in the celebration!
Sun in the morning.
Rain in the afternoon.
Outside and in.
Work and play.
A tiny slice of time when it all feels enough.
It’s nearing 10:00 pm on July 9. Up here on the 45th parallel, it’s still light outside.
I open the front door and call, “It’s time to come in now, girls!”
“No!” they answer in unison.
“It’s time for bed.”
“NO! We’re playing bird attack!”
The good moms go out and rally their children inside immediately for jammies and teeth. The bad moms go upstairs, get their cameras, and proceed to take pictures. I mean, come on — bird attack?! Who doesn’t want a (low-light panning attempt) photo of bird attack?!
Everything is white outside. We started out in the car to go to a cousin’s birthday party but had to turn back because I didn’t feel safe driving in white-out conditions. So now we are home, playing a game that involves bamboo and pandas, which Jeffrey discovered last year. Jeffrey likes to search out the best games and give them to the girls for Christmas. And all winter long we play around the kitchen table. This game, Takenoko, is one of my favorites because of its complexities and because I like to watch how different aspects of our personalities emerge as we take our turns.
As baby Wallace is passed from one lap to another, I wonder what kind of game player he will be?