Saturday February 21, 2009

My boyfriend has this friend who is an extremely talented photographer. He takes pictures of us all the time and makes me look like this gorgeous person I have a hard time associating myself with. He uses his instincts to take very natural candid shots of people.

Yesterday, I went along with them, (my boyfriend and our photographer friend) to take some pictures of a family. We went out to this park and spent the later part of the afternoon searching this tree filled dead grassed land for the perfect areas to shoot the photos. We took in the beautiful day relaxing allowing the sun to heat our skin. It was a little on the chilly side. As the afternoon progressed into early evening, chill factor kicked up a notch. The lighting was perfect for our friend. He snapped away at this young mother, her son & husband.The sun was setting and the sky was filled with orange, pink, yellow, and blue shades. The sunlight drew its curtain closed and with no light left in the sky our friend finished his last shots. The evening came to its end but not before an encore lighting performance from a lone lightning bug. It was as if it were the very last of its kind at this park. It fluttered along independently shinning its little light every few seconds. Something so very small had such a serene beauty.

It is times like these that make me look inside myself to ask why I am not dabbling in on my creative side. Why? I admire people like our photographer friend. People who can just do. People tapping into their creative energy making it look effortless. The outcome of their creative process is usually something amazing. How can I accomplish this same act? How can I put aside all of my fears and just DO?

This is when all of my analytical obsessive compulsive demons poke their needles of negativity into my mind. So, the thoughts begin. I would like to earn a living writing. What a great idea this is in my head, that is until the first prick attacks.

I then analyze every aspect of myself. I rip myself to death like a raging pit bull. How can I write when I don't have a college degree background? Who is going to take me seriously as a writer? How can I get an acting gig when I am not as beautiful as the thousands of other actors going for the same role? How am I going to gather my self esteem when every single person you see on t.v. or film has STRAIGHT perfect pearly white teeth and flawless skin?


I really wish I would have never kicked that dentist when I was a young girl. Then, a second opportunity to fix my teeth in my adolescent years and what do I choose? I decide not to get braces because I believe my crooked teeth give me CHARACTER! My so called CHARACTER will for now be just another reason to consider myself "perfectly imperfect."

What was a gorgeous relaxing day has now become a cellular membranous war inside my head. Just more reasons I give myself to accept that I am perfectly Imperfect! Accepting and embracing my imperfections I am still working on coming to terms with.