The memories that haunt us and the truth that sets us free... or does it?
Can memories be healed?
If you can’t change the facts ... how can you heal it...?
So much to say
A new day
Life just floods in
A gift
A light that is warm
Soak in the gift of the day
Climb as high as you can.
Wait for the sun to rise.
Wait for the moon.
Sun on your face.
Rain on your face.
#roamtheearthhappily
....pardon my novice-ness.
This weeks assignment .... shallow depth of field, b & w, manual, no flash ... and then deep depth of focus...same requirements.
I have two sets to turn in... and three days to “do better” than below. I don’t want to play it safe... I want to learn... and also take a great shot... creative self.. open up๐๐ป๐๐๐ป
Here are two sets so far.... opinions??
And these..
I am looking for some sunsets on rock tomorrow... looking for something out if this works..
✌️ peace
Shooting in Black and White for a motion assignment. It’s more fun than I thought, and a nice degree of challenge and getting to know about shutter speed.
I had to make up subjects as I had nothing moving to work with. These are not the final submissions but it got my brain working and some of the "scary" out of the way.
Have a great week. September is here, summer daylight fades....
The Work of Happiness
BY MAY SARTON
I thought of happiness, how it is woven
Out of the silence in the empty house each day
And how it is not sudden and it is not given
But is creation itself like the growth of a tree.
No one has seen it happen, but inside the bark
Another circle is growing in the expanding ring.
No one has heard the root go deeper in the dark,
But the tree is lifted by this inward work
And its plumes shine, and its leaves are glittering.
So happiness is woven out of the peace of hours
And strikes its roots deep in the house alone:
The old chest in the corner, cool waxed floors,
White curtains softly and continually blown
As the free air moves quietly about the room;
A shelf of books, a table, and the white-washed wall—
These are the dear familiar gods of home,
And here the work of faith can best be done,
The growing tree is green and musical.
For what is happiness but growth in peace,
The timeless sense of time when furniture
Has stood a life's span in a single place,
And as the air moves, so the old dreams stir
The shining leaves of present happiness?
No one has heard thought or listened to a mind,
But where people have lived in inwardness
The air is charged with blessing and does bless;
Windows look out on mountains and the walls are kind.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/58678/the-work-of-happiness
