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12/52


Sweat Equity
The twelfth of 52 portraits of my family in 2014.

Andrew working on the Mercedes. 

I've got hard-working brothers who can fix cars; which is good because sometimes they take them off-roading and rip holes in their oil pans.  
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See the rest of the series by clicking here.

Faults


I found these two little entries as drafts floating around my posts list. They're my thoughts on two of my faults that I guess I felt I shouldn't post at the time of writing them. I like what I've written though. They're embarrassing, and unflattering, but if admitting an imperfection is the first step to overcoming it, I guess I'm taking a pretty good step by publishing them. 

Written sometime at the end of 2013//

Jealousy is the ugliest affliction. It turns others' accomplishments into a bitter poison that simmers in your stomach and fills your chest with tight frustration. Jealously is the terrible side-effect of an unhealthy ego, showing us how we truly view ourselves.

I have seen so much of jealousy's twisted face lately. It's not directed at me, but I find it spread across the internet. Sharp words and anonymous complaints against successful bloggers, passive-aggressive comments on Instagram photos, bullying and bickering and hateful obsessions. What a horrible way to live, with that vicious little monster in your ear, tearing down others, telling you that you're not good enough.

This past month I've had a few envy attacks of my own. They strike when I am feeling lazy and unmotivated, when I feel like I'm not progressing or creating or living the life that I think I ought to be. They leave me feeling bitter and and cheated and worthless. I've started to recognize those nasty little thoughts when they first begin to creep into my mind and I've learned to take a good look in the mirror. You don't envy a body when you feel healthy and lovely, you don't envy a relationship when you value the people in your life, and you don't envy a blog or a home or a life when you are content with your own. I've learned that hope, hard-work, and gratitude are envy's antidote. I feel hopeful and optimistic about my future and its ability to bring me the things that I admire in others' lives and I am trying to do the work that it takes to achieve those goals. I focus on loving my life, and making it a life worth loving. I try to change the things that upset me, to challenge my weaknesses.

Written sometime in the middle of March 2014//

I am working on my temper. Of my many faults, my temper is one that is especially harmful to myself and those around me.

Somehow I balance being both non-confrontational and exhaustively expressive. I am generally calm, but I am also incredibly impatient. These qualities sometimes combine like sparks to dry grass, and I am slamming kitchen drawers and flinging forks into the sink with absolutely unnecessary force. It's embarrassing to write about. It's embarrassing to think about, because my reactions are so perfectly childish. I am an expert at expressing myself, at analyzing and translating my feelings. I want others to know what I'm thinking and how I feel. This trait is usually manifested in incessant "I love you's" and in compliments and cuddles and meandering explanations of my decisions and philosophies. It's a narcissistic trait really, valuing my own internal state so much that I practically shout it from our back porch just so no one will miss out. I mean, isn't that kind of what I'm doing here? But when my feelings turn black, when I become frustrated or annoyed, the same need springs forth in the form of passive-aggressive toddler-like tantrums of foot stamping (seriously) and angry sighs. Once again, I am so embarrassed that I actually do these things sometimes.

I've realized recently that I'm usually aware of myself in these moments. There is this split-second of clarity before an outburst when my little voice of reason whimpers, "you really don't have to do this." I'm working hard to stop shoving it aside like the neutral bystander in the way of a school bully's tirade.

I try to remember the word, "timshel." It's a Hebrew word that I had displayed in my room on a Young Women's handout for a long time. It translates as, "thou mayest." It reminds me that there is a choice. There is a choice involved in being angry, in slamming doors, in feeling sorrow and hopelessness and happiness. We choose our reactions, and I am working on choosing better ones.

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11/52


Pleasant Surprise
The eleventh of 52 portraits of my family in 2014.

Mom in the Japanese Tea Garden in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park, camera in hand as always.

This week, as I've returned to school after Spring Break I've had a really hard time trying to plan for my future. On the way to school on Tuesday I told my mom, with unexpected emotion, that I fear there's nothing that I love doing enough to do it for the rest of my life. I like (sometimes even love) writing, and photography, and design, but I've never had one thing that stands out as my passion in life, one thing that I haven't felt totally sick of at some point; it's a blessing and a curse. On the opposite end of the spectrum, my mom is so devoted to photography. She does it constantly, and her passion for it never seems to wane. I envy and admire her for that. 
I chose this photo because it captures the real emotion on my mom's face the moment she looked up from her camera, just a split second before she pulled one of her I-know-I'm-being-photographed expressions.
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See the rest of the series by clicking here.

10/52


Uncle Chuck
The tenth of 52 portraits of my family in 2014.

My uncle (my dad's brother) Charles, with his dad and my grandpa, Clyde; in the kitchen talking family history on a Sunday evening.

Some of my earliest family memories are of my Uncle Chuck; memories made up of his long-legged hunting dogs, his laugh, and his tidy signature mustache. I have rarely ever seen him without a big smile and when I look at this photo I can perfectly envision him heartily clasping my grandpa on the shoulder and saying, "Hiya pop(!)" as he does almost every time he's reunited with his dad. He's the most light-hearted and outgoing of his siblings and he's always the first to offer a hug and a kind comment on Facebook. 
Love you, Uncle Chuck.
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See the rest of the series by clicking here.

9/52


Cousins
The ninth of 52 portraits of my family in 2014.

Kyler holding baby Porter after Carson's baptism.

I had a nice portrait of my grandma ready to publish for this week. It had interesting lighting and good composition, but this is the photo that tugged at my heart when I saw it. I don't get to see my incredible Idaho family nearly as much as I would really like to. Kyler is number 3 in the Idaho clan of four of some of the absolute sweetest children in the world. This photo seemed to capture a portion of his personality so well. I'm sure his family sees quite another side of him at home, but around us he tends to be reserved and absolutely pleasant and loving always. To see such a little guy taking care of and loving a child smaller than himself is a beautiful and Christlike thing to witness.
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See the rest of the series by clicking here.

8/52


Authentic Emotion, Staged Shoot
The eighth of 52 portraits of my family in 2014.

Two photos of his actual attitude about his baptism portrait session, one photo of his response to his mom bringing up his "girlfriend."

I endeavor to make these weekly portraits as honest as possible. I try to keep post processing to a minimum and I avoid staging the moments that I capture. Carson's purposeful portrait session was a completely different thing. During the quick afternoon shoot I got lots of photos of this sweet, silly dude looking happy and respectable, but the reality is that an 8-year-old boy eager to get to pack meeting isn't all that pleased to be sitting still in a suit. Fortunately, if you can get said 8-year-old to react to the mention of his crush, then you get a chance at a genuine grin (and some serious blushing).
I love you, Carse.
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