Tuesday, April 13, 2010

keeping it in perspective.

Magnolia Tree in Spring

Ah, spring is here. See the proof? A blooming magnolia tree! Amazing, amazing. Honestly, although I'm not a "pink" person, after a long, cold winter these trees make my heart leap. This photo, shot with my Polaroid ProCam on Image film is currently sitting on my {again messy} desk. Yes, I did clean off the desk a few weeks ago, but it is hideously messy again. Taxes due this week (must get those in the mail tomorrow), tape from a recent package sent, the Real Simple magazine that arrived just today... At least the magnolias make me smile.

Then there is my SX-70 land camera. Sitting sadly in the corner of my desk. Soon after my last post, I got a little over-zealous and decided there were some shots I wanted to try with the PX100 film. Rushing to get another pack of film in the camera {it was getting late and I needed to make dinner, etc.}, I carelessly left the camera on the edge of my desk. My desk has wheels. Slight breathing, bumping, walking on nearby floorboards all make it shift slightly. Can I just say, "oops," or "I'm an idiot?" So, my camera FELL OFF THE DESK. Yes, it's my own fault. If you knew me, you'd know that I was the kid with the Barbies still wearing their original clothes, the My Little Ponies with hair all combed properly, my CDs and DVDs always, always in their cases and nearly unscratched. Yes, I'm messy and I hate to clean. But, I don't drop my cameras!

Cut to the chase, you say? Yes, it is broken. Oh, how my heart dropped out of my body when it fell so loudly, so awfully onto the floor. I was so excited to have someone notice my photographs for once - oh, they only have a few comments and a couple "favorites" on Flickr. I'm also the girl that nobody ever noticed. Smart, shy, aloof... and nobody ever listened. So, to me, having this camera break... so soon after we'd met, was devastating. Nobody noticed me until I took Polaroid photos. My digital photos are nothing to write home about.

I spent the next 24 hours trying to fix the SX-70. I don't have a repair manual, or probably the patience, to fix it. I checked eBay hundreds of times looking for a good deal (yikes, these are currently going for CRAZY prices for un-tested cameras). Luckily, I suppose, I didn't have much time with this camera. I didn't get as attached as perhaps I might have if I'd had it for years. Perhaps I can get it fixed {i am impatient}.

It's ok. I can't shoot my PX100 film right now, and I'll have to wait for more fun experimentation (that Showerhead shot was my very last). It's just a camera, though. And there are many, many SX-70's out there, even if I've damaged this one beyond repair. I feel ridiculous mourning the loss of a camera when there are so many awful things going on in this world. Just because I was noticed once, briefly, is no reason to get attached to a "thing."

Why did it happen? Perhaps because I suddenly felt proud of myself {hubris}? Because I was forgetting what is important {relationships}? Because I was rushing {haste makes waste}? Because I was not being present.

I need to have "be present" tattooed on my body. Where I can see it everyday. No, really - I'm serious!

be present. be happy. live life today.


  1. When something like this happens to me (um, daily it seems) and then I start down the path of, "I shouldn't even be upset over this because other people have much bigger problems, etc., etc." I know that it's only a downward mind spiral from there.

    Don't beat yourself up about this little accident or about the fact that you're upset about it. Really. We all do both, I think. But I'm sorry that your camera broke. :(

    (this is laura from www.hollywoodhousewife.com)

  2. Well, I AM still upset - it's true. But I need to remember that my self-worth is not IN my stuff. I am not my camera. I am not my photos. And things can be replaced (even if they were expensive). It's not about other people having bigger problems (and of course, they do), but that I have more important people (myself included) in my life.

    -- my mother-in-law is dying of cancer -- this is where I'm coming from, here.