mashrooms

It began in October, the numbness. The sick feeling and lack of appreciation for my photography. For all photography. I couldn’t stand looking at my social media threads. If I saw one more photograph of a pretty girl, in a fluffy dress, standing in an abandoned house, I was going to vomit. Nothing I made was right, or alive. My work felt like a boring rerun.

I was in a rut. Unfinished projects were going to stay unfinished. Unreliable models had made me question the worth of my ideas. And then my mom came to visit.

We went for a walk in the forest. She showed me what you can find in deep, dark, self-loathing rut. Fungus! Beautiful, ugly, tiny, slimy, spongy, fungus. She stopped every few feet to photograph a new one and I thought okay let me try. Click.

The total excitement I experienced photographing fungus in the woods with my mom was so unexpected and so very needed. I found a palate cleanser. Dust off those fluffy dresses, sorry if I was harsh earlier. I feel better again.

Happy creating you crazy animals.