Evolution or Devolution? [stream of consciousness]

I used to scrapbook. 
Elaborate, paperfilled, detailed scrapbooks… painstakingly thought out pages replete with photos and handwritten sentiment. 
About my kids. About life. About adventure.

Begrudgingly I must emphasize this was in the past. 

Shortly after my son was born, the added responsibilities of one child in school and one totally dependant infant eliminated the “free time” I once enjoyed. 

Now, certainly, I enjoy most moments totally engrossed in my children, but it’s not exactly creative time. 

So, seeking an outlet, I heightened my online presence and started regularly blogging.  It was for me, for my memories because my memory is no longer strong.  And because the kids kept “borrowing” and relocating my scrapping supplies. 

Someone out in this internet abiss mentioned in passing that she had published her blog to give to her family as a gift.  Hmm… so I did a little research and printed my own blog as a book.  I discovered that, through a process called “slurping,” my photos could be included in the publication without any effort on my part. Though the pictures included are small, they’re with the stories I’ve chosen to record. 

Sometimes I still print pictures. They sit in boxes waiting for me to get busy.  They call me from the corners of my abandoned scrapbook room.  Albums entice me with their pretty covers, their crisp clean pages shout “we’re tangible, use us!”  And I wonder if the craft – the art I so loved just two short years ago – is still inside me.

And the thousands of digital pictures Canon and I take have been filling Tetra’s belly regularly.  My little terrabite external drive is soon going to need a sibling.  Yet the photos are missing Mama.  I’m there experiencing it all, but I’m behind the scenes – – a voyer of the play, the living.  I’m getting a little better about getting in the shots (with Chi often insisting we put it on timer and take family pictures).  I advocate occassionally for others to grab the camera – – to feel free to click away, I want to be in the picture and to show my kids’ kids that yes, I was part of the action. 

Sometimes I’m pictured.
Not as often as I need to be.
But I’m there… always.

This month I’ve been charged to start a self portrait project. It’s part of Karen Woolrand’s Own Your Beauty effort on her blog, Chookooloonks. It’s a beautiful charge to get to it.

Make a memory!
Capture a memory.
Be the memory? 

So what if it may not make it to my scrapbook of me – – the abandoned book with six pages about me done almost four years ago and never again touched.  At least, on occassion, or maybe all at once, the portraits and a few thoughts about me will arrive in blogland. 

I owe it to myself.
I owe it to my kids. 
I get it.

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Comments

  1. Sorta Southern Single Mom says:

    Thanks for stopping by Single Mom in the South!

    I too am a 'reformed" scrapbooker. I really want to get back in to it, but I just can't seem to make the time… sleep is more important right now!:)

  2. Waisting Time says:

    Stopped by from SITS. When my kids were little there was no internet and no digital photography. I started scrapbooking when my boys were 10 and 13 and eventually went back and got all the old pictures done. But that said, I realized that we do not take nearly enough photos, especially as the boys have gotten older. I think what you are doing is a great idea:)

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