My actual life is getting a bit ahead of my posts which naturally has both good and not so good aspects to telling a story.  Because of this I am often talking about what went on a day or so ago.  My greatest regret/irritation in the retelling is what I have missed to capture in a meaningful way.  I am speaking here about photos and the use of the camera.  As I have protested more than once in this still short-lived, burgeoning continued search for absolute fullness and completion (ooppps, is that something like death?), I have never used a camera to document my existence so it is not a natural.  I am even less inclined to take photographs of people living their lives.  It seems intrusive.  I have always felt that way and suppose organically I always will.  But, what the hey?  The whole world is on someone’s iphone, so why can’t I enjoy the same exposition of such?

AH, but I am.  I am just starting to have some fun with the camera.  People may come next, who knows?  And just as I have had a good round with myself about not being comfortable with the camera and its use, I wonder if not using the written word to convey the story does not have more meaning.  If a story must be told quickly then a photo seems like the correct medium (video works here as well, any visual media), but if one wants to enjoy the luxury of dramatic story telling using words to create for the reader a ‘scene’ that then becomes ones’ own…..?????

So, is one art, the other pop?

One literature, the other gossip?

None of this matters to six year old Amy and four year old Sasha who love the camera:

Toes and Toys

Mom and Sasha

Carrie Hams for the Camera (cellar rat by day/gourmet cook at night)

Et Moi