The 52 Project | 1/52
Almost a year ago today I remember being overwhelmed by motherhood. I tried to start the 52 Project, but quit after only a week. I was intimidated by the idea of pulling my camera out to document my son on a weekly basis and updating my neglected/non-existent blog on top of all the laundry, feeding, daytime job freelance and sleep-deprivation. Tears were shed by me on a weekly basis as I fumbled through juggling work and life. But, it’s true that it is amazing the difference a year can make, both personally and professionally. I’m still overwhelmed—and fumbling—at times, but I feel a new confidence. I feel ready and refreshed to give this project another go.
As I mentioned in my December in Photos post, I’ve decided to postpone a collection of monthly photos in order to focus on just one photo of my son a week. If you’re not familiar with the 52 Project, I thought I’d share a few words from Jodi’s blog, Practicing Simplicity, as she puts it so much more eloquently that I could:
“There’s a common saying amongst mothers, first coined by writer Gretchen Rubin in her book The Happiness Project: ‘The days are long, but the years are short.’ Indeed, our days of mothering babies and young children can be tiring and messy; a cycle of washing, settling, cleaning and playing. Sometimes they’re monotonous and seemingly endless. But then, without so much as a blink, the sleepless nights and mornings at the park are over, and we’re sending our children off to school, hesitantly cutting the metaphorical cord once again…I set about taking my children’s portraits as a way of documenting their fleeting childhood. I wanted tangible evidence of their growth and expansion; an honest account of their young, innocent lives.”
I have a few fears in this project. I’m afraid that I’ll have difficulty shooting a clear photo of a constantly moving toddler in a house with very little natural light and that I’ll get behind due to client projects. I’m hoping I don’t let those things hold me back and instead capture the (mostly) innocence, growth and wonder in life through his eyes.
Above is my first portrait, 1/52. We’ve been wearing lots of sweaters around here with what feels like a real winter for the first time in years. Alder is finally big enough for his car. He mostly wants to pull it everywhere he goes. He’ll come up to me and stamp his feet until I pull the car around and is delighted once I do.
