I taught my daughter the word ‘muse’ last month. It was on the same day I received a call from school saying, “Your daughter has a tummy ache,” and I sighed wondering if the complaint was legit. I hopped in my car, picked her up and learned that eight year olds don’t know their bodies well enough to say, “Pull over, I’m going to vomit.” Once we were home, she went to bed, and I cleaned the car. At least she had eaten strawberries for breakfast.
That same day my gear was in Melville, NY for professional cleaning and repair, an annual photography ritual. A discomfort arose in me, one that helped me realize that (1) Photography continues to have me in its grips and (2) I have old gear in the basement that I can pull out of boxes. Does anyone remember the D2x? Who doesn’t have a spare 50mm?
I love my daughter. She is so beautiful. She is my muse. That is her gift and burden to bear.
By late afternoon, I had discovered buried treasure and the beauty of limits (one camera/one lens), and she was well enough to ride her bike in the rain.