succulents in the family room
Every now and then when I look around my home, I get overwhelmed by what I think other people's expectations are for a home. How neat, how "company ready," how "clean it should be so you can hire a cleaning lady" kind of expectations.
peek at the beginnings of our nature table
Last week, I almost got bogged down in that overwhelm again as I looked at the tall stack of random clean laundry on the dryer, the "never can get it white" grout in between the blue tiles of the kitchen counter, the paper that never finds the right spot to land.
where her shoes land before bath each night
To clear my head, I turned to my camera as a way to seek evidence of how we are really living in this home.
a new jewelry collection in progress
the two Mickeys she insisted Grandma sleep with while she was visiting
bathtime/bathroom time needs
left behind after the last breakfast tea party with grandma
And I kept finding these beautiful pieces of us. The bits of clutter and real that reveal who we are in our beautiful, often messy, lived-in, little home.
Sometimes you need the close-up lens of the camera to push you back to seeing what you actually know.
a favorite happy bowl
Use your camera lens to capture the evidence of a life well lived in your home. Notice the little details beyond the surface. This would be an awesome Project Life prompt (especially if you don't have a lot of photos one week).
In Inner Excavation, there is an entire chapter about what we gather to us. The book invites you to dive deeply into noticing your world, noticing you through self-portraits in photography, poetry, and mixed media.
Order your own copy signed by me here.