Moving toward Joy
I sat in church and nervously rung my fingers. To the untrained eye, I might have appeared to be guilty and in need of repentance. In need of forgiveness.
Once the congregation was dismissed, I bolted out the front doors and dashed to my car. I searched the radio for a cool song. A song that might pump me up. Instead, it was like the scene from “Jerry Maguire”. I couldn’t find the right song, so I kind-of-sort-of mumbled along to a Pat Benatar song. Beeeecause the night belongs to lah-vers, I sang, because the night belongs us! The rest of the song found me thumbing my fingers on the steering wheel. It so could have been better.
I pulled into “The Turnip Rose” parking lot in Newport Beach and glanced lovingly at my new Tenba camera bag. JD bought me a few more lenses a few days ago and they were safely tucked away, hugged by the grey padding. I was ready to shoot my first wedding.
The peace I felt during the day was incredible. Sure, I was trepid, but in a good way. The way one might feel before a marathon. A cocktail of adrenaline, excitement, and a splash of nerves. Shaken, not stirred.
At the end of the night, I felt like I bonded with the bride, the groom and their families.
The night air was crisp as I walked out to my car after the reception. My fingers cramped as I tried opening my door. No, really, they cramped. Carrying my camera for 10 hours had an arthritic affect on my fingers. I peeled off my shoes and flung them on the passenger seat, right next to my camera bag. My feet throbbed, but I felt more pain in my knees. I rolled my pant legs over my knees and gasped when I saw that they were black and blue.
Whoa. The next time I shoot a wedding, I’ll be sure to wear knee-pads, bring Bengay for my fingers, and wear a pair of tacky Aerosoles. Sure, I might look like I’m going to a geriatrics convention, but it might be worth it. Then again, maybe not.
All this pales in comparison to my experience. I loved my day. And I have pictures to prove it.
On my drive home, I didn’t have the compulsion to sing along to a retired pop song. I didn’t need Pat Benatar; I had my thoughts to entertain my mind. I reflected on the day and was so thankful for the experience. It feels good to be moving in this direction. It feels good to move toward joy.
Once the congregation was dismissed, I bolted out the front doors and dashed to my car. I searched the radio for a cool song. A song that might pump me up. Instead, it was like the scene from “Jerry Maguire”. I couldn’t find the right song, so I kind-of-sort-of mumbled along to a Pat Benatar song. Beeeecause the night belongs to lah-vers, I sang, because the night belongs us! The rest of the song found me thumbing my fingers on the steering wheel. It so could have been better.
I pulled into “The Turnip Rose” parking lot in Newport Beach and glanced lovingly at my new Tenba camera bag. JD bought me a few more lenses a few days ago and they were safely tucked away, hugged by the grey padding. I was ready to shoot my first wedding.
The peace I felt during the day was incredible. Sure, I was trepid, but in a good way. The way one might feel before a marathon. A cocktail of adrenaline, excitement, and a splash of nerves. Shaken, not stirred.
At the end of the night, I felt like I bonded with the bride, the groom and their families.
The night air was crisp as I walked out to my car after the reception. My fingers cramped as I tried opening my door. No, really, they cramped. Carrying my camera for 10 hours had an arthritic affect on my fingers. I peeled off my shoes and flung them on the passenger seat, right next to my camera bag. My feet throbbed, but I felt more pain in my knees. I rolled my pant legs over my knees and gasped when I saw that they were black and blue.
Whoa. The next time I shoot a wedding, I’ll be sure to wear knee-pads, bring Bengay for my fingers, and wear a pair of tacky Aerosoles. Sure, I might look like I’m going to a geriatrics convention, but it might be worth it. Then again, maybe not.
All this pales in comparison to my experience. I loved my day. And I have pictures to prove it.
On my drive home, I didn’t have the compulsion to sing along to a retired pop song. I didn’t need Pat Benatar; I had my thoughts to entertain my mind. I reflected on the day and was so thankful for the experience. It feels good to be moving in this direction. It feels good to move toward joy.
posted by Jasmine at 2:35 PM
5 Comments:
Ooh Jazzy...post pictures! I wanna see! Im so excited for you!
Jasmine!! First of all, I am with Shyla!! POST some pictures, girl!!!! I have yet to see any of your stuff!
Secondly, you and your sister are so stinking doubly (is that a word?) gorgeous!! I just saw TJ's pictures and watched Mark's slideshow from yesterday at the beach. So great. I wish I was there again.
Congratulations on your first wedding, girl! I am soo super excited for you. Isn't it wonderful to know you're moving in the right direction? God is so good.
Have a blessed day!
Congratulations Jasmine! I've been following your story for some time since I discovered you through Mike Colon's blog. You're the reason why I love my art...my hobby so much more now. I think you are a gifted writer and that you're destined for even greater accomplishments than you have under your belt now. It's strange to say this about someone I've never met, but I suppose I feel I have a sense of you - thanks for revealing yourself in your blog. I think there are some parallels between us. I can't wait to see your photos!
Wowa... you've got us all eagerly waiting in anticipation to hear more!! Black and blue?? You poor thing!! I TOTALLY feel ya about the feeling-like-you-got-ran-over-then-ran-a -marathon after shooting all day! LOL @ the aerosole ... I need to get me some of those too...
But most importantly..
We want pics!!!
xoxo,
L
Wow! You all are far too kind! I'll be getting pictures up soon!
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