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small things, great love http://youtu.be/4lPB0WbHI9Q
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Hello everyone (:
It's been way too long, I know. The past few months have been difficult, stressful, life-changing, but they have also been enlightening, rewarding and blessed. I haven't had the time and heart to return to these shores, not only because life has become too demanding, but also because - as I have realized - it requires and deserves much more of ..me being more present and wide alive in it.
I have truly missed some of you, and many of you I've thought about often. I used to spend so much time here, it was almost like a home away from home and my very own sacred sanctuary. That did change, unfortunately, for more than one reason that I don't need to get into. What matters to me is the friends I've made throughout the months and years I've been here, some of which have touched me in ways I never thought possible, some of which I will always have a place for in my soul and life. Those some,
if you've ever battled depression...Sometimes shiny people telling you everything is okay, or it will get better, or "just think of all the good things" and such can bounce right off of you, or make things feel somehow worse.
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See, the thing is, quite often we are already trying to tell ourselves all those same things, asking ourselves questions, trying to claw our way out of the pit - "I could have it so much worse!", "I used to love doing this, why don't I care about it anymore?"
Emotions become something you remember - but not something you can easily access - you know how unfortunate and frustrating it all is, but a part of you doesn't care, and a part of you forgot how to care, and another part is wondering why the hell you don't care.
I recently had a great conversation with a friend I've known for decades - who, as it turns out, has been going through similar bouts of darkness. One of the things she shared with me really hits home and expresses it all so well.
If you know Allie Bros
Kodachrome“Hey. That’s not the picture I wanted to take!”
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Sally held the glossy, still warm from the printer, like something delivered by a deep-space probe, squinting at it critically.
“For one thing, it’s… off. The frame is wrong. Stuff got cut off.” She looked at me as if it was my fault.
“View finder, dear. It’s not going to show you exactly what the lens sees.” I held up the Leica and turned it, tapped near the small square view finder then pointed near the giant glass lens below. “See? They’re different. One you see through, the other the camera sees through.”
“Well, that’s stupid!”
I chuckled. “Limitations of the tech, sweetheart.”
“Cameras need to show you exactly what you want to see before taking the picture. Everyone knows that.”
Nodding, I turned to the shelf behind us, reaching for a different camera. Rummaging, my old hands found what I sought. The Olympus