I used to knit.
Sweaters, socks, slippers, blankets — useful things that kept my family warm and my hands and creative energy sated. And I had this friend. And she had a friend. And together we decided that we would open a knitting shop. And, despite the whispers of an inner voice I heard telling me that something was wrong with the big picture, we did. And needless to say, it didn't work out. Say what you will about partnerships of three being recipes for disaster or business ventures with friends being the beginning of the end, I was idealistic and I ignored the whispers and dove in with my heart (and my family's life savings). Now, almost four years after leaving the business, and two years after the gag rule expired (yes, it was that bad) I still don't care to talk about it, but suffice it to say I no longer knit. Not really, anyway.
So was I hesitant, even scared, to turn my love of photography into a job? Did I—do I—worry that the joy will disappear and by the sheer definition of the word 'work' remove the pleasure from the act picking up my camera? The simple answer is: yes. I do. But it was a calculated decision. A risk and choice. This time, I'm listening to the whispers. The voice inside that's telling me 'Don't forget that you love this. Don't forget to do this for you.' So even when it takes extra effort, it's my plan to build shooting time into my life.
Sounds easy, right? But I can hardly build time for a daily shower into my life right now. Sometimes it's a chore. But life is full of glorious chores and I'm pretty convinced that you get out of it what you put into it.
So today I promise myself I'll photograph something, anything, that isn't for anyone else. And the results might suck.
Or they might be amazing. Either way, I'll be okay with it.
The photo giveaway is still open until Wednesday - check it out if you're interested.