“But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive:
for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts;
and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been,
is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life,
and rest in unvisited tombs.”
– George Eliot, Middlemarch
Heather Robinson
Amanda Voelker
On October 18th, my daughter was born and I became the mother of three children. Hundreds of miles away, on the same day, another baby girl was born and another woman added the third child to her family. We were complete strangers at that time, but our love of photography and family brought us together. We started to have a conversation about motherhood with images, because we tell stories with our cameras. Since some tales are so similar, and some are not, we decided to collaborate and share a photo a week from a normal day as a mother to three.
“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.” – Mary Jean Irion
photo by Heather Robinson blog | Facebook
I caught you. I caught the light. I can’t force it. It just has to be like this. I have to be ready or be ready to miss it, I guess. I have to be equally cool with either outcome.
On October 18th, my daughter was born and I became the mother of three children. Hundreds of miles away, on the same day, another baby girl was born and another woman added the third child to her family. We were complete strangers at that time, but our love of photography and family brought us together. We started to have a conversation about motherhood with images, because we tell stories with our cameras. Since some tales are so similar, and some are not, we decided to collaborate and share a photo a week from a normal day as a mother to three.
“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.” – Mary Jean Irion
i don’t dare sing in the shower when you are near. no way do i want to drown out your sweet song.
photo by Heather Robinson blog | Facebook
We spent a lot of time together this weekend. It can catch me off guard at times, when you actually curl up into a little girl, just seven. So much of the time you act and live so boldly, with such confidence and maturity, beyond your years. And yes, you can totally be both, and all, and that is one reason why I love you so.
“But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive:
for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts;
and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been,
is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life,
and rest in unvisited tombs.”
– George Eliot, Middlemarch
Heather Robinson
Amanda Voelker
i am not suggesting that photography makes me a good parent but sometimes it does make me better.
the other day i was lying around feeling sick and pitiful. i had no intention of getting up and dusting off my camera. i was resigned to the fact that i was going to miss out on posting this month. i reached out to my freelensing friends to let them know. and as usual they gave me their love and support. it was just what i needed to make myself pick up my camera. as i started snapping, i felt a little more normal again. my kids were happy to see me up doing what i love. i was happy that i found the energy to create art with the people i love most.
so, no. photography does not make me a good parent. however, it does fill me with joy. the kind of joy that spills over onto those around me.
