What tired looks like (self-portrait)

About This Photo
Aperture: f/1.4
Exposure: 1/50
Focal Length: 50mm
ISO: 800
Lens: 50mm f/1.4

So, so tired these days. Sometimes I get to the end of the day and realize I haven't even thought of picking up the camera. Most of the time, the munchkin is more than happy to get her picture taken. But in these teething days, she needs to be held and kissed and loved more than she needs another adorable picture of herself.

And so I, realizing at the end of the day that I have yet to turn my camera on for anything, find myself the only willing subject. Or maybe it has to do with convenience.

* * *

Lessons Learned or Affirmed:

• You may have noticed that my lips don't come together on the right side of my mouth. It's been that way for as long as I can remember. I used to press my lips together deliberately to avoid looking like this. My husband says he likes it -- it's unique. Once upon a time, I would have "corrected" this in post-processing. But now, what you see is what you get. Honesty.
• I think doing just part of a face adds an air of mystery. You question what isn't there, but it's also the case that your focus is more directed. It's not just about what you don't see, but what you're asked to see.

Self-portrait

About This Photo:
Aperture: f/1.4
Exposure: 1/50
Focal Length: 50mm
ISO: 400
Lens: 50mm f/1.4

It was at the end of a long day -- a really long day. And I hadn't taken one single photo. Not a one -- not even with my phone. So this is what I did -- I took a picture of my reflection in the kitchen window, not noticing at first that there was another reflection in another window directly across from the one in my kitchen.

No trickery here. What you see is what you get!

* * *

Lessons Learned or Affirmed:

• Self-portraits in the mirror or window can be overdone (or maybe that's just me -- once upon a time, I did them waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much), but with fresh elements (like say, a reflection inside a reflection) they can become not so prosaic.
• When committing to a photo-a-day project, don't wait until 11 pm.

the postpartum body

About This Photo

Aperture: f/1.8

Exposure: 1/60

Focal Length: 50mm

ISO: 200

Lens: 50mm f/1.4

Austen is nearly 4 months old now.

After all the amazing things my body has done -- two pregnancies and natural births, feeding and sustaining this little one with my body -- I still get stuck in a rut of thinking negatively about what I see in the mirror. I pinch my arms, jiggle my thighs, and squeeze the jelly on my stomach, displeased with what I see.

My husband is incredibly complementary. I wish I could sweep out my own thoughts of what I see reflected back to me and see myself the way he does.

I have a healthy diet and with the okay of my midwife, have been exercising regularly since Austen was 4 weeks old.

But this is beside the point. This isn't about needing diet and exercise tips, or needing to find effective tips for "banishing the mommy middle."

It's about how I think about what I see. It's about what I image for her. It's about tossing aside the world's lenses through which we view a woman's body, and learning to see it for the good thing that it is.

I need to be the one to image for my daughter how to think of herself in a healthy way -- to take care with her body with good nutrition and exercise, but not to pick it apart like I find myself doing, holding it up to the totally impossible, airbrushed "ideal" that will face her on the cover of glossy magazines, on the internet, in movies, and pretty much wherever she goes in the world. Lord knows she's going to have enough challenges with the messages the world will give her, telling her she's not good enough because she doesn't leave the house looking like she's been PhotoShopped.

The message I want her to get from me is that she is beautiful, no matter what. The message I want her to get from me is that the skin she's in is good and beautiful and exactly what it was meant to be.


Looking at her now, it kills me to think that she might ever not like what she sees when she looks at herself.

If I want her to know that, I've got to believe it of me first. I can't just tell her, then run back to the mirror to pinch and jiggle those places I identify as problems.

I must image right thinking about her body for her. I must learn to appreciate what I see, even if it doesn't conform to the world's (or my) ideal.

Sigh ... [deep breath] ... this is a start.

* * *

Lessons Learned or Affirmed:

• You can't beat black and white for post-processing shots that are poignant and deeply emotional. There is something about the loss of color that forces you to focus on the story being told or the message being communicated.
• The image can be just as much about what you don't see as what you do.