My friend, Denise picked me up this morning at 7am to go on a photography adventure at Cantigny Park in Winfield. She is relatively new to this area, but has been exploring with photography in the early morning hours. She is also an accomplished blogger and writer. I am a teacher, poet, writer and photographer. To give some context to our adventures, we took photos of each other on the yellow couch.
We walked, talked and shot photos of early morning dew and flowers. Eventually, our talk turned to writing, which is only one of the passions that we have in common. We both love flowers, photography, our kids, writing, summer (in the cooler mornings) birds and most of all, our husbands. Our husbands who love us unconditionally and support us in our creative pursuits each and every day.
It is possible that these creative and handsome men were drawn to us because of our talent and artistic loves, but maybe they have inspired each of us to new heights. I think it is a little of each. Still, we are both entering into one of the most self-proclaimed enlightened stages of our lives. So what now? Questions create questions. Writing is not a solitary experience also, if it is art. But, is it writing if it isn’t recognized or published by an outside source? We both like to share our beauty, words and art as the inspiration arises. We both decided we weren’t sure that we wanted to wait for someone else to publish our work, but rather share it our ideas so others can freely enjoy.
Regardless of the outcomes, Denise and I are able to write and publish our musings on a daily basis. We both find ideas for writing in things like flowers, but have different approaches. I dream of floral ballerinas, she of the imperfect beauty of a flawed petal.
So, we walk, talk, snap and breath in our art. We are better for it. Because, as a very wise man told me, we must do art, all the time, every day.