I love pictures. By that I mean I LOVE pictures. I love taking them. I love framing them. My entire house is filled with pictures. They are my artwork. I’m more inspired by pictures of my family than by artwork. Don’t get me wrong. I love art. I really do. But my family by far is God’s greatest work of art.
Some cultures believe that pictures can steal your soul. That’s a bit of a stretch for me but they sure stir my soul. I always wonder that in older pictures no one smiled. Perhaps it was because they didn’t see they pictures after they were taken.
I’m not sure what it is about pictures that I love so much. I think they capture an emotion and every time I look at that picture I can tap into that emotion over and over again. I currently have about 25 years of pictures to be put in scrapbooks. I don’t know who the genius was that decided that not only did we need to catalog our pictures but we had to decorate them too. The pressure is too much! I won’t decorate them as well as those “scrapbookers.” Mine will forever be inferior. The perfectionist in me says, “don’t even try!” The Mom in me gets lost in the pictures every time I bring them out.
For me pictures bring such joy. I see a picture of my child with food all over their face, or a picture of a graduation or better yet a picture of my child at birth and I am flooded with emotions. I also love pictures I have of people that have passed on like my Dad. I can look back at those pictures and remember the good times.
But there are also some pictures I don’t want to see. Like pictures of me before I lost my weight. They are unavoidable. My kids are in them! I can’t destroy them. So they serve as a great reminder of how far I’ve come. But still there are some, I can’t bear to look at them. It hurts too much. They are locked away for a time when I am stronger, again because of the emotions that the stir.
Right now I’m in the nirvana of picture times. Two of my children recently got married. Looking through all the pictures and seeing the joy on their faces has me in a place of pure bliss. Seeing my family all together and all my friends surrounding us is just precious to me. I’m enlarging prints and trying to find more room on the walls for all these pictures. That make me so happy!
I often wonder why I never became a photographer. Especially since I love pictures so much. Here’s what I think. I think that because I love the pictures for the emotions they stir and not the art form of them, I am better enjoying the work of talented artists. As for all those scrapbooks that need to be done – perhaps I can become friends with a small army of “scrapbookers” who will come and do the work for me?