I can't stop looking at the way the center of this daisy-flower* progresses: the inner part, strict and honeycomb-like, giving way to fuzziness and trailing ends.
*as I may have mentioned, we call them daisy-flowers for Daisy's sake---for clarity---and she says it so adorably that I'm afraid it's already become their lifelong name for me
Also, lately, fascinated by "light-painting" with the camera in a dark room. Sam loves the implications for starting with a "blank palette" and controlling the light just as you would in a painting. He likes to make cake into Art. I just like to make magical glowing lines.
This picture is so typical. Little Junie Bird, tears still on her cheeks from falling down and getting a scrape, smiling bravely at her brother Malachi. She is the sweetest little bird I've ever met. Brave and sunny and serene. How we love her.
People always say you need to keep things in proportion; avoid wrongly distorting something small into something big. But sometimes that hyper-focus shows you something new. Something you'd maybe guessed at but never really understood until it filled your whole vision and became all there was. Such magnification is best experienced as a temporary state, maybe. But it can be illuminating, even supercharging, while it lasts. I go through times like this, where all my energy suddenly surges down a track in one direction, leaving the other parts of my life precariously teetering on two wheels and careening along behind, trying to keep up. There's something to be said for balance---but for me, there's also much to be said for hyper-focus; for life slightly but gloriously out-of-balance; for riding that train, wind in my hair, as long as it will carry me and trusting that the other responsibilities can take care of themselves as they trail along behind.
