Review. Reflect. Rejoice.

I sat down this week and made a list of all the photography workshops I attended this year. I included the excursions that I took myself on--alone--without other photographers. The overall results surprised me. In 2021, I managed to photograph nearly two dozen locations, from an abandoned 1929 hotel in upstate New York, to a rural field of rocking horses in Massachusetts, to country barns and winding back roads in Tennessee. Why am I telling you this? 2020 and 2021 have been years of great isolation for many of us. Our hearts are heavy. Some of us have lost loved ones, jobs, health, friendships. In short, it's been a time of great transition. The one thing that has held and kept me steady is my art. The one thing I have been uncompromising on is getting out (sometimes just in my own backyard), with my camera, and doing the one thing I can control: my creative life. 

So I am asking you, I am imploring you to consider this question: what do you love to do? (Not who do you love; there's a big difference.)  What is the one pursuit, the one passion, that without, you simply wouldn't feel whole? Perhaps it's writing poetry, songwriting, painting, photography, design, culinary arts. If you don't know the answer, take out a piece of paper, or your journal, and allow the answers to come. We are all gifted, but some of us never open our package.

(Perhaps consider joining me in 2022 for one of my creativity courses. See link below.) 

As we tiptoe lightly into 2022, I am grateful for the opportunity to review, reflect, and rejoice in my God-given talents. 

https://www.carolmossa.com/on-the-road

Good Eye

When my son played Little League youth baseball, I'd often hear the other parents shout, "good eye!"  when he wisely chose not to swing at a bad pitch. I receive similar praise as a photographer when I capture an image that resonates with my audience. Whenever I receive this compliment, I am reminded just how true this statement is. Since birth, I have only had one good eye. 

Born with an ocular coloboma in my left eye, I depend solely on my right eye for my sense of sight. According to Wikipedia, "a coloboma is a hole in one of the structures of the eye, such as the iris, retina, choroid, or optic disc. The hole is present from birth and can be caused when a gap called the choroid fissure, fails to close up completely before a child is born." 

My coloboma is hour-glass shaped, and every now and then I'll meet a stranger who will point, peer deeper and exclaim, "Oh, my God; your eye!!!" Sometimes I'll play along and feign surprise, but more often than not, I'll smile and fill them in on the nature of the malady. I am acutely aware, each and every time I pick up my camera, that I am blessed to have that one good eye. I don't sit around lamenting the eye I never had use of. Instead I protect the good eye by wearing safety glasses when doing yard work or any activity that could compromise my sight. 

I throw up a silent prayer each time I venture out with my camera, aware of how fortunate I am. As I sat in the ophthalmologist's office for my annual eye exam last week, I was reminded just how blessed I am to have that one good eye.