September 4 – The Morning Chronicles

Fear and its friends…

Instagram has made me discover a lot of new things. Besides being a warm community it brought me some dear friends. Some I’ve met already in real life, others still are in the “mystical” virtual world.
It’s something so undescribable. It’s even something I might have looked at in the past like “yes, sure, internet friends…”.
Maybe I even would have feared it…… Social Media do have a frightening connotation these days.

What surprises me is that there are so many – especially – women out there in the whole world, reaching out for likeminded. Creatives, uncertain creatives, women with jobs, with small or big children, women who lost their husbands too young, and find the courage to share, woman who are sick, women looking for confirmation, for a warm word… a cyberhug can do a world of good you know, ;)
I admire the work of so many, the softness of @kimklassen , the warm and beautiful light of @elke1403 who takes us into her daily life in the most stylish and graceful way; the way @corinnaho looks at nature and always seems to find eloquent simplicity through her images; @jofabi – my dear friend Jolanda – who introduces me to the world of her cats and Polaroids. And there are still so many others…

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I love all of their work, and the stunning feeds of @_deborahbrandon_ @rachaelhonner_hipbrownhome (the first showed me the way to the second, and they both blew me away) but also @frosso_ ‘s make me sit in awe.
Rachel lately shared an article on her blog in which she interviewed some IG women, and the question about fear and uncertainty popped up. That’s what grabbed me… How could these women, with such magic, magazine quality pictures, be uncertain? Why?

Fear and uncertainty have always been my middle name. As the terrible perfectionist that I am, I never think I’m good enough. I always compare and I seldom survive the comparison. I believe I do not have a “style” a “signature”. I try a bit of this, a bit of that. I started a 365 project this year that makes me hop from here to there, but I stubbornly refuse to give it up. But it does make me take “just photos” to meet with the subject, can’t say they’re also beautiful photos. That doesn’t help to boost my confidence either.

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I used to be a macro/flower photographer and made some pretty images that made it to publications. But I stopped that, hopped over to combine it with still life, some food, tried Polaroid… But I always find myself not good enough. I buy props, and props, and … well… some more props… And wait, wait to make pictures of them. And when I do take them and find a good one, I leave them sitting on my hard disk. Waiting for the right moment.

God knows when that moment comes…???!!!
And then I browse through other feeds and see my pictures.
Well, they’re not actually mine of course, but similar. Same ideas. That’s when I turn angry with myself.
Because there is also such a silly voice in my head – no idea who planted it there – that I can’t post that picture anymore, because “people” will think I just mimmick, that I’m a copy cat…

The fear of not feeling good enough is paralyzing .
Plus after all these years (I take photos since 1995), I still don’t dare to call myself a photographer, let alone a creative or an artist.
I don’t allow myself to “create” anything, before all the “serious” things have been done. And then – also because I’m a fibromyalgia patient – there is no time left, or no energy, or someone is watching over my shoulder – what I do not like – as I always think they are laughing at me and my so called “creativity” my “art”. Maybe I’m also paranoia ;)

Oh gosh, I guess I had to have this off of my chest.
Now I’m off, taking the dog for a walk, cause that feeling creeps in too, guilt. I feel guilty for letting him wait while typing this post….

I guess that makes me the proud owner of the power of 3:
Fear-Uncertainty and Guilt…
FUG…
mmm does sound a little like another F word… maybe I should add “off” to it, and make it a yell :)

“FUG off! ”

See you all on IG (follow me @marl1een

Big, warm XO

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The morning chronicles – September 1.

Hopeful sigh….

September 1. is where we live traditionally the first day of a new schoolyear. Many crying going on in kindergartens when all those little ones refuse to let go of mama’s skirt. And right they are. Cause it’s then that reponsibilities – no matter how small – start and will never go away again…
A quick memory of our son: he didn’t cry, a sweet goodye, bit uncertain but that was it. The following 18 years would tell us the same daily story over and over again:
Us: “What have you done today at school? ”
He: “Reading, counting, eating and playing.”
He’s 30 now and still plays. The cars got bigger, the go-carts got motorized. His responsibilities got a little bigger too, but still…. I think he’s not sure about that yet ;)
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Home alone… at last… Well that’s good news.
I can sit here quietly, writing this, listen to…. nothing…. I have been longing for quiet time for days, weeks.
So needed. A day without a zapping tv… Can you imagine? No sounds hopping from shooting villains, to screaming monsters, yelling race cars, shouting football fans. Imagine all those sounds packed in 30 seconds and that during 12 hours…
For a lover of Quiet, with capital Q, that’s ear tormenting… A preparation to living in hell… Owf….
Not today.
I hope things will turn back to normal step by step. Not in the least that my hb will be able to live with the constant presence of the nagging hernia pain…
In a short while I’ll be back to the everyday: washing, ironing, putting Largo under the shower – with all the rain lately, he’s kind of a stinky winky.
But first I’m gonna sit in my sofa, take a magazine that’s been lying here for 3 weeks now, get a cup of mango tea, and sit, in the quiet of nothing…

Closing this with a new “haiku in me” (see my brandnew #thehaikuinme on IG):

The still of quiet
The brief moment of nothing
Inner peace waves in

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