“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” – Henry David Thoreau
what will be left behind when we go? some of us are very sure of what our imprint will be.
others, we cling to small strands, tiny threaded marks, the beat of our child’s heart: we are unsure what the legacy of our path will be, unsure that we will have something worthwhile to look back on.
in the busy rush of the day, i am a hurried soul, running from shower, to dressing, to shoes on, to kisses on boys’ heads, to out the door.
other times, i slow down. and instead of running from my self, from my body, my dreams, i am present. there in that space of slowness, i find space. breathing space.
there, in this quiet space, i find that the turn of the lens and the click of the shutter fills my soul.
there, in the blurred lines and out of focus outcomes, i see into the beating of my heart, and the hope of resetting my soul anew.
there i see that my life’s work is not all unaccounted for and disregarded. there is the brief connection between who i am and what i do.
there i see that the mark i am making as i tread across the days is not all ugly and scarred, but hope-filled and beautiful.
in the days to come, as the years stretch forward, i hope we look to this place as a refuge. where the blurred is beautiful, where scars are no longer ugly but joyous. where we, as artists, as mothers, as lovers, are able to celebrate our perspective, knowing that our point of view is not always perfect but comes from deep inside our selves. that we remember, it is not just how we look at things that matter, but what we see through it all.