Bird Brain
"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" - Matthew 6:26, 27 NIV
A few weeks ago a pair of bluebirds began building a nest in the special bluebird boxes we made for them (9 years ago). They've been coming a few times a day to work on it, or perhaps feed their babies. It's hard to tell for sure since I don't want to get close enough to investigate - I don't want them to abandon their project, whatever it might be. But Saturday afternoon, for some reason they developed a keen interest in our window.
At first they were just hanging out, looking in at us.
Then they started the pecking.
On Sunday afternoon they were fairly vocal in their many visits, and were not even deterred by Harley.
This morning they seemed to have launched a full-scale offensive on the transom window above our front door, but they mostly divide their time between the windows and their nest.
My husband was watching them on one of their many trips back to their work when they suddenly took flight into the trees. Seconds later a hawk swooped in and perched on the box. Now, we love the hawk normally, but raptors are known to raid the nests of smaller birds. Needless to say, this is not the sort of "National Geographic Moment" we cared to witness, so he frightened the hawk away and watched the bluebirds immediately return to ascertain the safety of their home. And then he commented to me on how much we are like the birds in a way: overly concerned and preoccupied with things that are not true threats (transom windows?) all the while nearly missing the very real threat that looms nearby.
Color
Today is one of those gray, yawn-inducing days that I would normally describe as "cozy" or "serene." I would grab a cup of my favorite Earl Grey tea and sit down to make a card or work with my watercolors and dream of Seattle. But today I just needed some color. I had to find it indoors, but it was a great opportunity to get friendly with my new speedlite. So I shot my way through the visible spectrum...
...red tissue paper leftover from a Valentine craft
...the dreamy orange of the beach wrap I got at Miss Dally's in Jamaica
...the BEST use of yellow, save for God's glorious flowers of course
...those of you who know me well know I didn't have to look far for green
...the only thing cooler than a sea star is a blue sea star
...my Gramma's African violets. They always bloom on her birthday. Thank you, Father.
Thank you for color.
-Jenni
The Journey of Discovery
It has taken me awhile to get here. Professional photography, that is. And in all the years I dreamed about actually taking this plunge, I always imagined that once I did it I would feel like I had "arrived" somewhere. But in the last few weeks I have come to the realization that opening for business is like a brief stop at a train station. Bags have been checked, paperwork filed, some new equipment purchased, but I'm not getting off here. I can't. The minute I "end" the journey and settle in a destination is the point at which art comes to a halt.
You see, a photographer has to spend time observing the world, creating that mental catalog of how it all goes down. You have to watch a lot of sunsets to know right when the colors are going to explode. And if you spend enough time with a person you know right when that flicker of laughter will gleam in their eyes. You just see it coming. I've been doing it my whole life, way back before I ever picked up a camera. It can be kind of awkward actually. Like when my curiosity finds me staring into someone's living room window and wondering how their life is unfolding right at that moment then I realize I'm, ummm...well, looking in someone's window. Or sometimes I'm gazing into the sky, enjoying how the clouds are morphing from abstract shapes to clear images and I walk into a tree (true story). I've spent so much time observing God's natural world of bugs and sunsets and weather patterns that I assumed I would become one rocking nature photographer.
And then my BFF asked me to shoot her family reunion...
and then my other BFF asked me to shoot her nephew's wedding...
and then I got to shoot photograph their baby...
and I took up yearbook photography...
and went on my first mission trip...
and I discovered I really, really like to capture people. I discovered my avodah: my art, my service, my worship, my work.
Me. This raging introvert settled on event/people photography. Go ahead and laugh because I still do. This is where God shows up huge. He did not give me the gift of being able to relate to people like an extrovert does. Instead, he gave me a nice camera and some really sick glass (and a husband who loves to buy me that stuff). The lens filters out all those things that can make me cringe and duck for cover and avoid real relationships. And when I look through it I see something much closer to what He must see. I see people whom I want to love and be near and offer something of myself to in the hopes that they may be blessed by seeing themselves as their Creator sees them.
I know God loves and enjoys the beautiful world He has made. And He gave me a huge passion for highlighting it to His glory. I'll keep doing that.
But He loves His people much more, and we all need to discover how beautiful He made each one.
The day I stop observing and discovering will be the day I should sell my gear and take up gardening. Gardening is great and maybe someday I will be forced to get off the train at that particular station. But not today.
I've got work to do.