Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Do You Not Write Any More?

"Do you not write any more?" 

This innocent question set me back for a moment this morning. A friend and I were texting back and forth while I was editing a pile of pictures from a photo shoot the night before. I had to check my blog stats to see that I haven't posted since July 9. Twenty days ago. Hm. When did my life get so busy?

Last night was my first solo photography session without my husband. The room was full of eight four-year-olds cavorting all over the place. (My sympathies go out to the preschool teachers and cat herders of the world.)  I had just taken a darling little blonde girl by the hand and led her to stand in front of the mottled grey and black backdrop. I positioned her beside a chair, crossing one foot in front of the other, just like I'd seen Chuck do, I took a few steps back and started to shoot. My phone began to ring. I was expecting a call from my husband's doctor earlier in the day, not in the middle of this photography session. I put my hand up to the little girl to tell her to wait, and I took the call.

The doctor asked how I was. "Oh, I'm fine," I perhaps said a little breathlessly. "I'm actually in the middle of a photo shoot with a bunch of preschoolers. Could you give me ten minutes, and call me back?" (Hey, I take my photography seriously, and figured it was worth a shot.) Apparently the doctor takes his time seriously, too. My request was shot down, and he told me it would only take him a minute. Fine. I put the phone between the crook of my neck and my shoulder, and continued to shoot pictures, miming to my little model that I wanted her to smile. (Big grin from me, pointing to my teeth. Eyes wide, pleading for cooperation.) You can imagine how successful that was. She finally gave me a sweet, timid smile, and we called it good. The doctor gave me his good news for a bill of clean health, and we said our goodbyes. 

It is now 1:30 the next afternoon, and my freshly washed hair is air drying. I just swallowed the last of my cold cup of coffee. My bed is finally made. When did I get so busy? 

Taken last night after shooting the littles at
the youth theatre. 
When I first met Chuck, he often asked me about my passions. Writing was always number one during our brief courtship. Now that we're married, and summer is in full swing, I can honestly say that photography is pushing my writing aside more often than not. We have shot thousands of pictures, and it is a labor of love to delete and then edit the better ones. 

Am I disappointed in this shift of priorities? Absolutely not. I love writing, and I love photography.  I still write, but it's mostly in our shared journal and in  emails to family. 

Summer offers us so many adventures, and we try to take advantage of every daylight moment we have together, sharing the sunrise, taking in parades, a rodeo, Renaissance Faires, the zoo, national parks, and visiting our children and relatives from Florida to Illinois to Utah. Our lives are busy and full, and while I may not have time to document everything in my blog that's going on, I almost always have my camera with me. 
Bristol Renaissance Faire: Jenni welcomes one and all.

Winter is coming. I'm sure I will be writing more then. For now, during this season of sun and fun, we will be outdoors as much as possible. During the day while Chuck is at work, I am busy editing pictures to share on Facebook and Flickr. 
Marysvale, Utah Rodeo (Picture from my Flickr collection)

I do write. I just don't always publish. There is a difference. I will keep writing and taking pictures. And I will start publishing more soon. I enjoy blogging too much to walk away from Randomocity. Thanks for your patience. (And Laura, thanks for asking.) I'm always trying to find ways to live a life of balance, and I also realize there is so much truth in the scripture: "To everything there is a season." Summer is my season for gathering memories to write about when the weather challenges the best-laid plans. 
Fireworks from Monroe City's Pioneer Day celebration in Utah

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