Joy-ography

A rerun and a new story why I need to attend the Joy-ography photography workshop:

The rerun

In September I wrote of a fun afternoon playing with this praying mantis, that releasing it back into the grass was like a farewell to summer.

The new story

Last summer my children often commented that the bugs they collected in jars were their only pets. We remedied this somewhat with Elise's Christmas gift of a gray hamster she named Buddy.

She has been in love! She wanted to show Buddy to her second grade class, so enlisted me to bring his entire habitat for show and tell. I brought the camera, too, knowing Elise's enthusiasm would be golden.

Elise opened Buddy's cage and lovingly cupped him in her hands for his celebrity tour 'round the desks. I readied the camera. But instead of the expected quick, efficient click, the shutter slowly shuddered, offering me one measly picture before freezing altogether.

Aargh!

The camera's control window said "Err." It probably stood for "Error," but I felt like the camera was casting judgment. As in, "Err, you don't know what you're doing, do you?"  Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah.

And just like that the camera wouldn't let me take a single shot. I missed:  precious looks of wonder; Elise's confident carriage; faces framed by the white metal wires of Buddy's cage as the students eagerly peered inside; the hilarious way Elise flipped her hair to demonstrate Buddy cleaning himself.

I turned the camera off and on, off and on. Pushed buttons, removed the lens, reset. No amount of dial turning was restoring life into the machine, which is such an important (and expensive!) part of recording my family's story. I was so discouraged -- distraught almost --  that I called my husband as soon as I got home to tell him what happened at the school.

"Wait," he interrupted me. "Does this story end with the hamster dying?"

No, I laughed, flooding with the relief that comes from a new perspective. "Just the camera."

It did, inexplicably, come back to life, but I am tired of it taking the upper hand.

What I really need is the real-life mentoring I could get from the Joy-ography workshop, presented by two great photographers I know.

I want to earn a chance to attend this workshop because:

1. I love to take pictures of the everyday moments with my children, but want the quality of the shots to be, well ... more than everyday.

2. I struggle with my camera. I want to be in charge of my it, not the other way around.

3. My rudimentary knowledge frustrates me. I think I have a good eye for composition, but often don't know how to turn my vision into results. I know enough to know I need to learn more.

4. Attending the workshop will get me out of the house for the day!

5. Photography helps me see all that is worthwhile.

6. I want my children to have a beautiful record of their lives. I don't want them to see snapshots, I want them to see memories.