2014 in Photos
Here we go with another blogging challenge! I'm participating in SmallBox's Think Kit, a community writing project that involves a prompt a day for the entire month of December. Here's the first prompt:
I take a lot of photos. Most of them aren't really worth looking at again. In fact, let's be honest -- most of them are pictures of desserts and my dog. But looking back over the year for pictures worth sharing, I realize just how much I've done this year -- and how fast it's gone. I guess that happens every year, but this year in particular seems to have passed in a haze of constantly-trying-to-get-through, constantly-getting-ready-for-the-next-thing. I feel like I haven't stopped once to appreciate the moment I'm in, and now looking back, 2014 feels like a long weekend I crammed full of too many events.
The photos on my nicer camera are more formal and purposeful -- I take these photos with intent, at weddings, family gatherings, trips. But the pictures on my phone? They're the hodgepodge of tiny moments in each day. The picture I made Michael take of me by the road sign that says "Cheese Hill." The truck plastered with facts about Kentucky's agriculture that I saw on my drive home from work. The puppy I met at an art fair. Looking back at the whole mix I see the normal yearly cycle: the birthdays of family members, Easter, Mutt Strut in the spring, camping on Memorial Day weekend, putting the boats in at the lake, taking the boats out of the lake, carving pumpkins, the first snow...but I also start to see the things that made 2014 different.
There was a polar vortex and it seemed like the cold and snow would never go away. (Clyde was cold).
We played giant Jenga and it made me really anxious. Do you know how dangerous giant Jenga is?
I took a photography class. We met at the Starbucks in Barnes & Noble, because why not?
Michael got drunk on tequila.
My cousin and I kept our pact to get in the water every time we both were at the lake -- on a technicality -- only to break it a month later.
I got poison ivy -- three times -- while planting wildflowers. I'm not going to show you the picture of my rash because it's pretty disgusting. Impressively disgusting, but still. See this work of art I created, instead.
From June to the first week of October, Michael and I got 10,000 steps (nearly) every day.
We went to the Bahamas in a completely different way than we did the first time.
We also went to Georgia.
And to Albany.
And to the State Fair.
I helped launch a new brand.
Our dog Wrigley passed away.
We painted so many rooms. And spindles. And trim. And built-ins.
This crazy guy got a little bit older.
I put way too much energy towards getting a Starbucks gold card.
We renovated our attic, which took 2.5 times longer than expected and still isn't completely done.
"Share your year in photos. Was there a moment of unrestrained happiness? An unexpected encounter? What role do photos play in your life – were you more selective with your phone (er...camera) this year? Or are you the King of Selfies? Dig into the deeper meaning of a moment frozen in time."
I take a lot of photos. Most of them aren't really worth looking at again. In fact, let's be honest -- most of them are pictures of desserts and my dog. But looking back over the year for pictures worth sharing, I realize just how much I've done this year -- and how fast it's gone. I guess that happens every year, but this year in particular seems to have passed in a haze of constantly-trying-to-get-through, constantly-getting-ready-for-the-next-thing. I feel like I haven't stopped once to appreciate the moment I'm in, and now looking back, 2014 feels like a long weekend I crammed full of too many events.
The photos on my nicer camera are more formal and purposeful -- I take these photos with intent, at weddings, family gatherings, trips. But the pictures on my phone? They're the hodgepodge of tiny moments in each day. The picture I made Michael take of me by the road sign that says "Cheese Hill." The truck plastered with facts about Kentucky's agriculture that I saw on my drive home from work. The puppy I met at an art fair. Looking back at the whole mix I see the normal yearly cycle: the birthdays of family members, Easter, Mutt Strut in the spring, camping on Memorial Day weekend, putting the boats in at the lake, taking the boats out of the lake, carving pumpkins, the first snow...but I also start to see the things that made 2014 different.
2014 was the year...
There was a polar vortex and it seemed like the cold and snow would never go away. (Clyde was cold).
We played giant Jenga and it made me really anxious. Do you know how dangerous giant Jenga is?
I took a photography class. We met at the Starbucks in Barnes & Noble, because why not?
We made hot dogs at work. And bacon. Again, why not?
Michael got drunk on tequila.
My brother got married.
My cousin got married, and my brother celebrated by building a water bottle tower.
My cousin and I kept our pact to get in the water every time we both were at the lake -- on a technicality -- only to break it a month later.
From June to the first week of October, Michael and I got 10,000 steps (nearly) every day.
We went to the Bahamas in a completely different way than we did the first time.
We also went to Georgia.
And to Albany.
I helped launch a new brand.
Our dog Wrigley passed away.
We painted so many rooms. And spindles. And trim. And built-ins.
This crazy guy got a little bit older.
I put way too much energy towards getting a Starbucks gold card.
We renovated our attic, which took 2.5 times longer than expected and still isn't completely done.
That was way too many pictures, and I could have put 50 more. But there were big moments that aren't captured in photos, too, like all the work Moriya and I did on Olive & Clyde, and the thinking I did about who I am now and who I want to be. Deep, right? I won't get into that yet.
So I'm not sure what my grand conclusion is, or if I have a point. I guess photos, these "moments frozen in time," help me look back and appreciate now the moments I didn't appreciate enough when they were happening. But I hope for 2015 I do a better job of slowing down and appreciating each moment as I live it, instead of in retrospect.