Photograsp

I have had this idea mulling around for some time: that taking pictures takes me away from the moment itself.  Even just the knowledge that I can take a picture at any time and send it off in a blink separates me from the experience.  And so this is what I wonder: is my 24 hour access to picture taking and picture sharing a slippery slope to grasping - in each picture am I holding on to something?  Trying to preserve it for another time or another place or, more frequently, trying to transport my experience to someone else?  I don't know the answer to this question.  But this is what I am trying: I am not taking pictures at all this week.  Under no circumstances will I flip my camera up on my iphone or even take out my dusty cannon sure shot.  One week.

I made this decision last night as Matt and Francesca were making the most adorable fairy door and window I have ever laid my eyes on.  It almost felt like instinct (like the same instinct that I feel to drink water or go to the bathroom) to grab my phone and shoot.  I had a list of people I would share it with.  But I stuck to my rule and once I embraced it, I have to say, I felt this freedom inside of me.  I took Lilian outside when the fairy door team was securing the door onto the tree and I had nothing but her and my keys.  We walked around the block to the coveted cherry blossom tree on Newport Street.  I looked into her eyes as she looked up into the blossoms.  I looked up into the blossoms myself and I saw them with eyes that felt clear and full.  We walked slowly and intentionally and noticed the purple flowers and listened to the robins sing.  I am sure I would have done all of this if I also had my phone in my back pocket, but what I am not sure about is the clarity of my presence.  I felt like I was there.  Just with Lilian.  Just with the flowers and birds.  I saw Francesca wave to me from down the street and felt joy in my step as I moved towards her.

I know I will return to taking pictures as their value in capturing moments and spreading joy is amazing; I just don't want the camera/phone to become the master of my experience.