morning light.

Anyone who knows even a little bit about me knows I'm not at all a morning person.
But today, as I was up early to get Max off to school early (he's PM kindergarten, but every other Wednesday they go all day...crazy...) I noticed the lovely morning light streaming in.
Of course it streams into the messiest places in our house in the morning -
the laundry room, the master bathroom, the toy littered family room.
But then it got me thinking that really, it's the messy places in our life that most need illumination, right?
The dark, dank, dirty, disastrous places of our being that are most in need of that lovely, graceful light.
A few bright, warm rays to rouse us to a new day, full of possibility.

linked 52: summer (the light)

Summer is always about the Golden Hour light. And we get fabulous, perfectly amazing golden light in our backyard. If only I could strip away the houses, I'd have the perfect place to do family shoots - the greenbelt that is our backyard. (This shot is far from glamorous or interesting, but I was painting and when I saw this light I put down the roller, washed the paint off my hands, grabbed my big girl camera, and ran out on our deck.) (How's that for a run-on sentence...)

52 Linked 2012 A new theme every week.

Michelle, Tracey, Stacey, Heather, Jenn, Jessica, Amanda, Amanda, Kristin, Sara, Tracy, Lesli, Janet, Naomi, Rhonda, Rose, Carla, Heidi, Kristin, Heather, Amy, Liza, Veronica, Kristi.

linked 52: lighting experiment (aka the light: laundry room)

Okay, so this isn't really any great lighting experiment, but this light stopped me dead in my tracks. I didn't even take these on the same day. But both times when I walked past the laundry room and saw that morning light I grabbed both my iPhone and Nikon and snapped away. Those of you who follow me on IG saw these. I love light like this. Dramatic. Just a peek of brightness in the darkness. Illuminating a pillow and shoes I'm protecting from the jaws of sweet Sammy. Casting an intricate pattern of light and shadows on the floor. This kind of light inspires me. This is why I pick-up my camera. Anyone else would have walked right on by, but when you've taken pictures long enough you notice the light. It stops you, it makes your heart skip a beat. It makes you wonder at the details of your life. My dirty, ugly, piled-high-with-stuff laundry room - made beautiful by a sliver of morning light. These may very well be two of my favorite photos this year (well, besides all of my photos of my Maxwell.) 

52 Linked 2012 A new theme every week.

Michelle, Tracey, Stacey, Heather, Jenn, Jessica, Amanda, Amanda, Kristin, Sara, Tracy, Lesli, Janet, Naomi, Rhonda, Rose, Carla, Heidi, Kristin, Heather, Amy, Liza, Veronica, Kristi.

the light: his morning.

A little slice of our early morning today. He zones out watching PBS Kids (great mom, huh?) until it's time to eat and get ready for school.

Today I decided to underexpose a bit and showcase the darkness and shadows. A little different, but I like it. Might as well use our dark, dreary days to my creative advantage, right? Perhaps I've found a style I like.

the light: his room.

Back in January I told you all about my goal of working on finding the light. And I'm happy to say that I've been working on it when the sun comes out, and illuminates places in our home. Like Max's room. It faces east and glows with light in the morning (on the days when the sun actually shines around here.)

Are these edits perfect? Probably not. Some might say they are too bright and overexposed-looking. When I look at the color photo all I see is the chromatic aberration on the edges of the rocking chair and nightstand (thus the black and white edit.) But even though I look at these and question my editing, I still love them. It's his room as a five year old. A moment frozen in time. It's blue, full of stuffed animals, his Lego calendar, "wind" (white noise) machine, cute little animal drawer pulls, a brightly colored quilt that his great-aunt so lovingly made for him. I initially was drawn to his room when I went to pick out some clothes for him, and then I noticed the light. But as I sat there in his blue, little boy room I realized I was doing more than trying to capture the light. I was trying to capture the essence of this moment in his life. His cute little room. It won't always look so cute. Some day there will be piles of clothes on the floor, and the light blue walls will be painted over, and the cute animal drawer pulls will be replaced by something less child-like. The stuffed animals will be stored or given away. The quilt will take-up residence in my bedroom as my daily reminder of the days when he was little. And this room will become his retreat; a place where he will work on becoming the man he will someday be.

But the Light?...It will always be there, shining brightly. And I hope he always notices that Light.

the light.

One of my photography goals this year (yes, I'm making myself make some goals) is to look for the light. Notice light and shadows, and how they dance together. By looking for the light I think I'll start to notice more than just an obvious subject. I feel like I've struggled with understanding exposure and getting a certain type of light in my photos. I can't really describe what I'm searching for, but I know it when I see it.

This is one example. I was just wandering around, doing things around the house when I noticed how this little sliver of sunlight fell on the magazine holder and edge of the couch. Quick like a bunny (yes, I just said that) I grabbed my camera, thought about my camera settings and took a few photos. 

A fine beginning to a little series I'm starting. :)