When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs.  When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.  ~Ansel Adams

Today, I am a photographer.  And why not?  What more is a photographer but a writer who has learned to tell a story without uttering or typing a single word.

Since it is impractical to tote two children around along with my DSLR I have purchased a new point and shoot, the FujiFilm XP10.  It is an ultra compact digital 12.2 MP with 5x zoom and even has an AE setting which will allow me to customize the ISO, aperture and color in various situations.  Best of all, it's waterproof which means I can capture all the hi-jinx at the pool this summer and extra special moments such as the children dancing in the occasional rain shower! 

So Many Ideas...

There have been so many wonderful ideas pouring through my head today, it is such a shame that many of them will be forgotten or left by the wayside when life interfered and prevented me from recording each lovely detail of them all.  The good ones will come back to me, I'm sure if it. But a part of me wonders what happens to the other ideas that flutter away in the blink of an eye, when the phone rings or one of the children calls my name. 

Perhaps it is harsh to say that life has interfered when it is life in the first place that brings me these wonderful ideas.  It might be the way the sunlight catches the the glint of laughter in my daughter's eyes or they sound of my son's laughter resonating through our house.  So many ideas and inspiration and so little time to record it all without missing a precious drop.

Enough of the wistful thinking...My mind is set, I shall think of this over the next few days and see what solution I can come up with for myself since Post-Its have once again failed me.  A mini challenge for the weekend...

It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by.  How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment?  For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone.  That is where the writer scores over his fellows:  he catches the changes of his mind on the hop.  ~Vita Sackville-West