Corn fields

I have fancied myself a writer for as long as I can remember.  Problem is, I haven't written much more than diary entries, the odd poem, and countless first paragraphs to "that book" I am going to write someday.  There are moments that I get so intimidated by the greats, and what others seem to do effortlessly, that I am tempted to throw all my words into the fire and forget the dream.

This spring, in the midst of needing desperately to do something for me, to get to know myself, to find what I had lost, or maybe never had, I discovered photography.  Here too was something that I have always been drawn too, but too intimidated to try seriously. 

And then (with a few nudges from some sweet sweet souls) the realization slowly sank in that only I can write, and photograph the world as I see it.  This is what sets us all apart as artists (eek, did I just call myself that?).  It is not about the skill level (that will come with time) or the possible, someday down the road greatness (which may or may not ever arrive). It is about NOW.  Seeing the world through my eyes, paying attention to how I see things, how I experience them. And then, maybe, if I am brave enough, vulnerable enough.... sharing my view.

And this is how I see my world, today.....


Corn field