TexasGirl Photography

27 December 2019

It’s difficult for me to think of this as the end of the year, since as I work on this I am knee deep in preparations for “second Christmas” – the 28th-29th – as we call it, since my daughter isn’t allowed to spend the “real” day at home for a few years.  But there’s no denying how close we are to the end of December, and my trip to the grocery store reminded me that it’s almost time to welcome in a new round of months.  

I don’t know what to say about 2019.  It was a year. Not a bad one, not one that will stand out in the books as amazing necessarily either.  The previous year changed me (it changed all of us), so 2019 was in a way a recovery year. . . . if you can recover from certain things.  Recently I found something I wrote exactly one year ago today; I dimly recall editing it in terror a million times, and then ultimately deciding not to share it, but I am sharing it now  (at the end of this post) because I know I have some friends out there who have had been punched in the gut with some Big Stuff lately. I’m in a different place today, but I carry it all with me still; it’s a part of me.

This is also the end of a decade, a fact that had escaped my notice until I read about it online.  I could write novels about the past 10 years – boy howdy, what a decade!! It began with upheaval, trauma, and loss, a huge new beginning halfway across the country from our own life, and – eventually – renewal.  To my continual grief, the decade ended pretty much the same way, with more upheaval, trauma, and loss, although thankfully no moving was involved. I can’t say that the same renewal has happened on the other side of it, but that doesn’t mean it won’t come eventually.  And that doesn’t mean that good things haven’t happened in the past decade: so many wonderful things have happened. We live, and in a house full of love and joy! What could be more wonderful than that?  

Back to the year just finishing:  it’s the year in which I was flattered with a couple of interviews, including being a guest on a podcast!  Somehow, my Emulsive interview is #3 on their most popular list.  2019 was also the year where I made a real push to be a “professional.” I can’t say that worked out all that well. . . . . it kind of worked, but it won’t work in the long run or as any kind of legitimate bread machine, so it’s back to the drawing board on my plans for some kind of financially stable future.  I am grateful for all the experiences I have had with professional work so far, and certainly loved engaging it in very much. It’s the reason I began blogging on a weekly basis (again, I can’t say I will keep that up, more than likely I will not).  

2019 held a lot of travel, which was a blessing.  It held a lot of growth for me and my family, in so many ways.  I am constantly amazed at the two stellar souls I share my home with; I am thankful for them every single day.

Whatever you are facing, as you stare down the year ahead, I hope that 2020 will fill your cup to overflowing – no matter the circumstances.  I hope it will surprise you in the most unexpected and merciful ways. I hope you will be able to stand up straight, with your shoulders back, and look it squarely in the eye, even if it’s only in the metaphorical sense.  I hope it fills your heart with joy and wonder. Here’s to it, here’s to you – from us, the “jolliest bunch of so-and-sos this side of the nuthouse!”

27 December 2018

It seems to be human nature to pass judgement on things, and to categorize & dismiss them quickly if they don’t conform to our own ideals, or – especially – conform to what we want. While I hesitate to pass blanket judgement on any given year, I can say without a doubt that 2018 most definitely did not deliver what I wanted. Instead, it took. Spitefully. Relentlessly. I find myself at the end of it with zero desire to look back, because sorrow is never something I want to revisit, but with a heart full of thankfulness that I made it through this period of 12 months with my feet on the ground. That isn’t to say that I didn’t lose faith in many things (the basic goodness of human nature among them, which has largely extinguished the fire I have had for street photography for 15 years), but I have not lost heart. I have not lost hope. . . . . hope being something that doesn’t rely upon circumstances past or present.

While the things that 2018 took away cannot be replaced, the things it gave me are also irreplaceable. Here I sit at the end of December in a house more full of love than ever. I put myself out there fearlessly this year, and mostly failed, to be honest, but the one or two things that did succeed have brought me joy and purpose. I am surrounded by opportunities to give. I’ve finally learned to ask for help when I need it, and accept the help that is given. Every day, I come across words and people that encourage me; I know that the road ahead of me may not be clear, but the light that shines upon the path as it emerges is something that cannot be extinguished.

I hope that this December finds you happy. I hope that January begins for you in a way that guides your year into joy. And as Morgan Harper Nichols said:

“When you start to feel like things should have been better this year, remember the mountains and valleys that got you here. They are not accidents, and those moments weren’t in vain. You are not the same. You have grown and you are growing. You are breathing, you are living, you are wrapped in endless, boundless grace. And things will get better. There is more to you than yesterday.”

A note on the photos – except for the family photo, they are made with the Deardorff my father gave me for Christmas.  So they might not be perfect – they are test shots after all – but they are brank spankin new.