I love to look through a lens.
To frame.
Curate. Create.
This practice is how I show up as a visual artist. When I’m out and about without a camera, I am forever framing things inside my head.
I’m quite amateur, two-part hobby. Myriads of people are on the list named “Better At This Than I Am.” Yet, I keep looking through the lens, picking up the camera. For the simple reason that it brings me joy and sparks my creativity.
This flatlay photo frames a few items that bring delight to my life, tell a tiny snippet about who I am.
- There’s a lovely keyboard with round keys that offer a delicious tactile experience accompanied by a delightful sound as I tap them.
- A cozy candle. {all things cozy, always, please}
- Chocolate.
- A book to read. It holds double duty as it signifies my Book Society as well.
- A pen that states Write.
- There’s a tin candle, the word Homebody on the metal lid.
Last month my spiritual director asked me a question.
As I begin to respond I lead with,
“I’m a pretty boring person.”
I list ways I like to play, flatlay photography among them.
She listens in quiet reflection, then circles back, nudges my opening words.
“That doesn’t sound boring to me.”
She echoes my list, one by one.
“Baking. That sounds fun.”
“Arranging flowers. That sounds fun.”
“Watching a movie. That sounds fun.”
I begin to fight back tears as she continues.
As she gives me permission to be my Hobbit, hearth-loving, home-embracing self.
To be the person in my own actual life.
I’d bought into the belief that I was boring because my life, interests, and desires weren’t exciting enough or adventurous enough or adrenaline-inducing enough.
They weren’t going to show up on any thriller lists nor were many people going to show genuine interest or care to listen.
I’d been ensnared by the pressure, the influence to show up the way other people thought I should.
By all the lies that tell me why I am not worthy to be loved, why I don’t even get to have an opinion.
The truth is there will always be someone, usually with a figuratively loud voice, more than willing to command you, direct you, try to convince you, coerce you, demand of you.
It’s hard work to row against the flow.
Yet, it’s worthy work.
For we are His workmanship, created in Jesus Christ, joined in His work and given good work He has ready for us to do.
We are His delight.
One of the works He’s given us is to simply play. To be. To delight in the day.
To show up as the person He created and in the activities that bring us life.
To love the little things.
To draw away from the pace and the rat race, the running, the seeking, the frantic scramble for fill-in-the-blank.
To live a quiet life. To love what we love.
“You’re not boring. You’re beautiful.” He says.
He lifts the lens, snaps, captures the moment,
and adds it to His scrapbook with your name on it.