Wednesday, December 7, 2011

50mm lens

Most of the time you will find a 50mm lens on my camera. It's one of my an old pair of jeans. It's comfortable, easy, and fits just right. Reviews say the lens renders a perspective that closely matches the human eye.

That's certainly not why I like it though. In fact, the opposite holds true when it comes to me and photography in general. I like the way the world looks through the lens of my camera. I like the sugar coated memory a photo makes. When you look through pictures, you don't remember the stress of planning, you forget all about the headache you had that day or the ticket you got on the way there. You just remember the good stuff. The important stuff. The stuff that means the most to you in the world.
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Like baby feet...

Christmas time is officially here. Last weekend we went with friends to see the lights at Chaffe zoo on Friday night and then took a stroll on Christmas Tree Lane on Saturday Night.

One day, Michael will look at this picture...he won't remember how tough it was to chase his little dude all over the zoo. Searching for his bobbing blond head in the darkness, trying to keep up. He won't remember the piercing scream that escaped G's mouth when we put him in his stroller and the way everyone turned to look...even the animals. He won't remember us rushing and hollering while we were trying to get out the door. (I told YOU to grab his drink! Are you SERIOUSLY going to wear that?! Where are my keys?!)

He will just vaguely remember Christmas of 2011 and fully remember that it was good. He will remember how sweet little Greyson loved running more than anything in the world and how running through the zoo as fast as he could and looking at the lights most certainly felt like magic. He will remember that Parker had a permanent residence, strapped to Momma.
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Sometimes, that's the whole reason I break out my camera and take pictures...because I know from experience that the good memories have a way of floating to the top when it is over. I know that snapshots of real life are practically poetic in reverse. To me that is pure and true magic.

Christmas Tree Lane...All I could get was the back of your head, Grey. You ran so fast we could barely keep up with you in the crowd.
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The way your hair bounces makes me laugh out loud. Dude has some crazy beautiful hair. People stop me constantly to tell me so.

Dad and I lost each other on the walk back to the car. Shucks, I won't remember how it was frustrating, I won't remember that our cell phones had no reception, or how I was cold. Even if I re-read these words- I won't really remember how it felt... I will remember you, looking at lights...scooching your feet in the dirt...happy.
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I will remember that we stopped at a house to visit friends. I will remember laughing and drinking wine, sitting around a bonfire. I will remember you playing with Lincoln logs and cars and having a great time. I will remember we all smelled like Winter and smoke and outside and happy when we got home.

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Fig Garden Village, before our stroll

Even memories like these...
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Well, they become sweet when held by a jpeg...At least they do for me.

Pictures like this...
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Turn a random boring Tuesday to "The day that Parker followed the trail of puffs on the kitchen floor."

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I will remember the dogs, aching for just one rice puff cereal...

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See ? More feet.

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Random Thursday Sidewalk chalk ...His Majesty...

And someday Greyson and Parker, you will look through our memories and see that you were loved and adored. You will see milestones documented, holidays on film. Random Mondays.
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This is just all one of many reasons I love my 50mm, rose colored lens.

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