Man, these past several weeks have kicked my butt at work! If it’s not one thing, it’s something else that the powers that be have bestowed upon me.
I shouldn’t complain, it keeps me fed; helps provide a roof over our head; and in the end, the job helps people who desperately need help…even if they aren’t quite up for the help yet.
Where was I?
New month, new challenge 101 thingy.
The ever fabulous LAF wrote that since I took a chance with something I wasn’t comfortable with that she now would do something that she wasn’t particularly comfortable with. (Yes, we are often each other’s cheerleaders, among other things; like conspirators, cogs in the machine.
Hence, the photography.
Wow, I took a lot of effort just to say something like this: I like pictures. I like taking pictures. I took a chance. Now, I’m running back to something I am familiar with. Blah blah blah.
The assignment for today wants us to take a picture of something that means home to us. Now, I could go absolutely literal with this and take a picture of my home. I love my home. It’s a three-story monstrosity that I lovingly call Douglas Manor. There’s a lot of personal history wrapped up in this 100-year-old house; history that I have labored with for the past ten years to write in some sort of…thing. Story or essay, it somehow turns into both.
But I didn’t want to take a picture of Douglas Manor. For one, it’s already 9:17 pm. There isn’t enough light for me to take a proper picture. I could cheat and use one of the pictures of the house that I previously took, but that feels like cheating.
What do I take of a picture of that reminds me of home? I could take a picture of my husband. He’s really my home (as sappy as that is), but for the sake of not taking any pictures of my loved ones, that got a quick nix.
Home can’t be caught in just one picture. It’s taken in a series of pictures. It could be that messy bed that I had to leave in the morning before quickly running out the door to my PT appointment. It could be that punched hole in the wall – not by my hand nor my husband’s. That is for another time and perhaps another place. Home could be the way the lights show off the light purple walls in our bedroom, the way it throws shadows over the rest of the things that add up to our house; our home.
Maybe I’m better at description than with a camera. 🙂