There once was a time when I had a lot of time.
I moved often, I worked odd hours, and sometimes, the first time I visited a place would be the last. I needed a hobby. Something that I could do whenever, wherever.
In the early days, I did a lot of my own videography for my on-air reporting.
Picking up a still camera seemed like a natural progression for me.
It felt fun to be creative, to capture things the way they were in that exact moment.
I started making it a point to bring my camera almost everywhere I went.
I took some pretty cool pictures of ordinary things mostly, that felt extraordinary to me.
And I really enjoyed being on the other side of the camera.
Then I just kind of stopped.
I’m not sure when it changed or why . . . All I know is taking pictures started feeling like it was getting in the way of what I set out to capture in the first place -- life in the moment.
So I stopped.
I left my camera at home.
I settled for quick pics on my phone when the occasion called for it.
And then I became a mom.
I thought about all the pictures of my young self.
I look at them differently now. When I look at my childhood pictures, I feel love and validation.
Even on the most ordinary days, I existed exactly the way I was and someone (my parents mostly) thought it was important enough to capture.
So this year, I’m making an effort to pick up my camera more.
At the park, at the playground, just around the house.
I want my kids to look back on their pictures one day and know their childhood was the highlight of my life.
I may not be as quick or sharp as I used to be -- but I hope they feel the love coming from the other side of the camera.