When I was younger I was terrified of New York – not because it’s a big city, or because of crime, or any of the “typical” reasons people are scared to go to New York City. I was terrified that I would fall in love with New York and never leave – and I knew, somehow deep in my bones, that my future wasn’t in New York. That it was here – in the small towns and unremarkable landscapes of the middle west. As I got older, the opportunity to go to the city never presented itself – and I never really gave it much thought. “I’m sure I’ll go there someday,” I’d say flippantly when asked if I’d ever been. But then…and don’t laugh at me…I started watching Gossip Girl. And as much as I fell in love with that series and it’s characters and the story, I also...
resolve | a month without
I like to think that I’m the kind of girl who makes resolutions and then sticks to them, but then I try and remember how many of those promises I’ve kept and, well, I can’t even remember the promises I’ve MADE. I want 2013 to be different, in so many ways, so I’m approaching this whole resolution thing differently. Instead of making promises I don’t intend to keep, or am completely incapable of keeping, I’m setting my sights on smaller accomplishments. There are a few things I’m resolved to do all year: Journal every day. Take more photographs of my life and my family. Read more. Do more of what makese me come alive. Of course I’d like to exercise more, and lose a little bit of weight, but I don’t make yearly resolutions to do so. I just try and do so all. of. the. time. (Which is either incredibly awesome...
this isn’t the part where I quit. this is the part where I come alive.
This is a post about me. About being a quitter. About giving up. I wrote the post below last January, and it’s no less true, no less fitting, now than it was then. In fact, it’s even more important, more real, more ME, now. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. “January is a time of reflection for most. I suppose it’s a time of reflection for me, too. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t spent the last two months entrenched in what has happened over the past year, and what I want to happen in the next. It’s consumed me, really. I have made so many lists: goals, to do, budget, more goals, making it happen, workshops, more to do, branding, more goals. Lists, lists everywhere; strung on walls, crumpled in trash cans, scratched into Anthropologie catalogs and Moleskines, on post it notes and fashion spreads. I have big plans for my business....
two thousand twelve.
When I think about this past year, it seems as though five have passed. So much has happened, and yet I still have so much further I’d like to go. I’ve pushed myself remarkably hard this year – to find my voice, to shoot for myself, to be true to my vision and my brand. I’ve branded myself (or at least started to) and I’ve really begun to discover who I am as a photographer, or at least I think I have. This business is tough, I’m not going to pretend otherwise. And it’s extremely trying and at times remarkably arduous. But it’s three thousand percent worth it. The heartaches, the triumphs, the little victories and the setbacks. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Okay, fine, maybe I’d trade the setbacks, but in those moments, when I’m mad and frustrated and just want to throw my hands up, and...
