The plight of my own photos

29 Apr

I spend an insane amount of time with my mind wrapped up in photography related things. I think about new lenses, new locations, new poses, new clients. I work on improving my photo website, my photo blog, my photo processing work flow. I balance, I budget, I report…three things I’m not fond of but at least they’re photo related. I post process. And I post process. And I post process. And I love every freaking minute of it.

But there’s one little photo related thing that gets put off. Constantly. I’ve said before that I don’t commit myself to things via this blog because if I do, you can rest assured that the whole world will hold me to my word. Sometimes you just don’t want to be held to your word, ya know?

That’s why I’ve never mentioned washing my dishes or folding my laundry on the blog. Heaven forbid I got an email from someone in California wanting to know if I’d really folded my underwear. I’d feel like a failure. Because you can be darn sure I don’t fold anything. Especially not my underwear.

Anywho. This post is not about the unfolded state of my under pants. Its about the one photo related thing that I slack on and push-off. The one thing (other than my water bill) that causes me to yell, “Crap! I know what I was going to do today!”

And that one little thing, my friends, would be my own damned photos.

You’d think someone who spends so much time working to provide strangers with awesome photos would be a little more in tune with her own photo needs. Nope.

That crazy awesome wedding we had? Think we’ve put together an album for that? Nope.

The amazing showers and parties folks hosted for us prior to the wedding? All those photos I blogged? Think those are in an appropriate album? Or even printed for that matter? Nope.

Those vivid, sunny photos from our week spent soaking up the sun in Jamaica? Printed, I managed that much. Printed and stuffed in an envelope floating around in a pile of unread magazines.

It’s shameful. Like really, really shameful. I’m embarrassed.

In my defense however, I’m pretty good about framing photos. I have no fewer than 100 photos on display in my office at work. And we’ve framed a good number of wedding and honeymoon photos and displayed them around the house. But I gots no albums.

And starting tonight, that changes. I’ll work on other people’s photos to be sure. But when I call it a night I will sit down, in my massively massive pile of photos and I will make an album.

I’ll start with the honeymoon since those are already printed.

I have Monday off and I was going to clean house in preparation for the big Graduation party we’re having next Saturday for Zac. (Now I feel rude for talking about a party I didn’t invite you to. Fine, you’re all invited. My house – noon on Saturday – byob.) Instead, I think I’ll call it “My Own Photos Day” and let Zac spend Thursday cleaning for his own party. Monday will be dedicated to album making.

And when you all show up for the party on Saturday, so help me, you better ask to see my photo albums.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go place a rush order on approximately a million prints so that I’ll have them for Monday. FedEx better not let me down.

And someone better hold me to my word. I want emails Monday morning instructing me to step away from photoshop and go make myself an album!

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2 Responses to “The plight of my own photos”

  1. Claire April 30, 2010 at 7:58 pm #

    I will have you know that I LOVE albums and I just finished putting mine together from Germany, I took over 1600 pcs. and printed out 800 for the album…$120 later…I have 2 very full albums, which you will be looking thru very soonly!!! May the Photo-Album Fairies be with you!

  2. Val Lieffers June 28, 2010 at 2:17 pm #

    It took me two years to scrapbook my wedding album…don’t feel bad. I have done five scrapbooks for other people (wedding, baby, vacations) and still have yet to work on my own. Guess that’s the curse of having a really good talent…doing for everybody else but not having time to work on the things for yourself.

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