Aaaaaaand today was the day I wanted to give up.

Tired of being creative, tired of being vulnerable, tired of looking at myself. So tired of looking at myself! I thought, “Well, sixteen days was it. That was a nice run.”

But I really hate quitting. I’m competitive, even with myself, and I may produce garbage from here on out, but I’m going to finish this project. At first glance, 25 images doesn’t seem like much. Years of doing the DPP have taught me that it’s harder than you think it is, even when you’re not doing something as ridiculously challenging as self-portraits.

By far the biggest challenge is my internal voice. Ones on the Enneagram are aware of the critical inner voice they live with—and knowing so many Ones, I’d say it’s a brutal dictator. But I’m a Two! And even us Twos hear voices when we’re working hard at something. I hope to write something when this project is over about being a people-pleaser, and as it turns out, even now I’m struggling to maintain my own artistic creativity OVER the imaginary voices I hear. The toughest one has been a voice that says I’m vain to attempt this project at all. That’s the meanest voice and I have to constantly squash it to keep moving forward. But I’ve also concocted a voice that says all my work is elementary art student material, not up to snuff, and that it’s expected. Boring. Obvious. Not inspired. I mean, WHAT. Why in the world am I tormenting myself?! It’s my project. It’s my choice. It’s my art.

So forward I go. I really do not know what the next week will yield as I feel creatively tapped, but I do think it’s important to keep pushing on especially when you think you have nothing left to create. The biggest lie is to believe that art only comes when you’re inspired. There are simply too many days in between inspirational moments that I don’t want to lose.

Onward.

Saturdays are the one day per week my little family can choose its own adventure—no dictated work, usually no obligations, and that’s just the way we like it. It has taken us years to get to the place where we don’t busy ourselves on weekends, and Saturday mornings in particular are reserved for us. Lately our Saturdays are super chill days. The kid is free to watch tv, draw, and read to her heart’s content, and boy, does she need that time for healing from the pressures of a week at middle school.

This shot is me being me. I have at least one goofball shot I’ve taken every single day because, let’s be real here, it’s hard not to be really silly when taking so many pictures of yourself. If I give anyone the impression that I’m serious all the time or only make lovely faces, then I’ve utterly lied to you. I like to have a good time. Here I’m pretending that this book is super dramatic, and it’s not really. But it’s a good one. I recommend any of the Mary Russell books by Laurie R. King. Fun reads for sure.

Happy Saturday, friends!

This morning I had my daily image selected. Or rather, I was wavering between two images. And right before I opted to save the files in my December Photo Project folder I hesitated. Something wasn’t… right. So I waited.

This afternoon I was standing in a boutique shop a few miles from home as the sun was setting. It was just before 5:00pm and as the cashier and I bantered back and forth I secretly wished that I could make it home before the sun had completely vanished from the horizon. The sun did disappear as I collected the mail, let the dog out, and turned on a few indoor lights. But with what little light was left, I felt the desire to shoot again, this time using the last remnants of reflected daylight. It was moody, quiet, and I had time to play.

It may seem strange to compare photography to a child with Playdoh, but truthfully, that’s what we photographers love to do with light. We want to mold it, shape it, spin it around and see what comes out. Perhaps that’s what this experiment has taught me most—to play. The same energy I use with my clients at the very end of our sessions–the energy that says, “Let’s do one more. Oh wait, now just one more!”—is the exact same impulse I’ve felt much of the past fourteen days. Keep playing. Keep twisting. Keep moving and shaping and experimenting. And even when I’m sure I’ve got the shot I’m going to use, I play a bit more in post-processing and then I surprise even myself. This shot was not at all what I was aiming for. But in the end, it’s exactly what I wanted.

WHAT IS MY LIFE?

Oh my goodness, please laugh with me at my outdoor woman/car pose from this morning. What am I even doing? What is happening now? Am I modeling for a car magazine (with my dirty car, old coat, and cell phone)? THESE SELF-PORTRAITS WILL BE THE END OF ME.

I cannot tell you how much time I spend in the car making phone calls. It’s my sweet little private office, with my own heating system, no one to interrupt me, and no dishes or laundry staring me in the face. This particular iteration of today’s self-portrait was the fourth round of shots of me with my “carfice” as one gal calls it. First there was too much glare on the windows, and then I struggled to get the focus on me in the car and not the car itself. So finally I got out of the car and just posed next to it. Meanwhile the garbage men came and witnessed my labor. The dog tore up a brown paper bag from the back seat and then practically fumigated the entire car with his nauseating breath. At the same time yours truly was hoofing it back and forth, from tripod to front carseat in the frigid-but-sunny winter weather.

What in the the world am I doing.

Today I present three images of myself pretending to be on the phone. I can’t even defend it. It is what it is.

HASHTAG DECEMBER PHOTO PROJECT 2018.