The window of my soul

I have always loved to look back into history. To try to get some idea of what it was like then, how the people dressed, what they were feeling.  I do this with pictures. Pictures capture a moment in time that will never be lived again.  I can go back and see what my grandmother looked like as a young woman.

I can see what it was like living on the family farm at the turn of the century. The Moon farm in Georgia (mom's side of the family) and the Campbell farm, now Rose Hill Winery, in Kentucky (dad's side of the family).

Moon Farm, Winder Georgia

Campbell Farm, Kentucky

I can look back and remember my fondness and desire to be Wonder Woman.

I can also look back and almost smell the old wicker couch we had when I was child, and see where I got my love of shelties from.

I could do this all day long.  

I was always called the "documenter" because I always had a camera.  No matter what we were doing, I was taking photos of it.  Taking memories and storing them away on film.  I would buy triple prints so I could share the photos with everyone.  This was of course before the days of the internet when in seconds you could put a photo on the computer and send it around the world in an instant. 

Every image was taken with such care.  You didn't want to waste one shot, and sometimes you agonized over taking a photo of something in the fear that something cooler might come along.  With the advent of digital photography, that all changed.  You could take as many photos as your memory card could hold, which was way more than a roll of film could.   

When I got married, I spent a small fortune to have photos taken by an amazing photographer.  Steve thought I would never look them at again.  Sometimes I wonder if this wonderful silly man in my life actually knows me.  I look at ALL of my photos over and over again.  Looking at the image, closing my eyes and recreating the scene in my head.  

Photos are important, and everyone should take the time to capture special moments when they can.  Someday, when that moment has passed, you don't want to find yourself wondering what color your hair was when you were itty bitty (or how dirty your feet were too)!

Happy shooting!!