The Eye of the Heart

Last week I took the kids down to our new city playground along the riverfront, where there is a water play area. As soon as we walked up to the fountains, I spotted two children belonging to a friend of mine who passed away last year. I sent mine on their merry way, pulled out my camera, and shot and shot (those are my own sons above—I wouldn't post photos of other people's children without permission). My friend's kids are beautiful and spirited subjects, but it wasn't just about taking pretty pictures. I shot them with my mothering eye, that invisible lens attachment I shoot my own children with, the lens my friend saw her children through every day of their lives, the way children need to be seen. Photography is as intimate as touch for me.

I get frustrated when I hand the camera to Patrick. He knows better than me what an f-stop is, but he doesn't use the same viewfinder. "You have to look through the eye of your heart," I tell him.

When Tracey invited me to guest post on ShutterSisters today, I told her I hoped she had a label category for rank amateurs who can barely focus their point-and-shoots. I am far and away the least knowledgeable contributor they've ever had. I just recently upgraded from my fully automated "Mom jeans" camera to one that has a few manual features, and I rarely shift the dial off "P."

But I wrote what little I knew, about the eye of the heart and what it beholds. I hope you'll go read it, and check out and comment upon the many wonderful photos that others are sharing in response.