365: We have wings

365 entries, 365 days, one incredible journey. Angels Outtakes

This is dedicated to baby angels in heaven.

Once upon a time I happened upon a link from Lallybroch on Facebook. I've known her in cyberworld through our shared journeys in infertility when she would lovingly cradle us in her writing arms and help us through the trials.

"What's this!" I remarked, clicking through to find not only Lallybroch's lovely photographic journey, but a whole world I knew nothing of.

This can't be! Had I found a photographic community where I could not only indulge in my obsession, but actually share these photos and words with a willing audience who take time out to comment whilst they are waiting for the newest comment to arrive on their own Blip doorstep?

Well, that very day, the Winter Solstice, I set about setting up my account. I knew nothing of Photoshop or editing and was overwhelmed by the beautiful creations I was seeing where colours truly popped, textural overlays blanketed and enriched images, black and whites had a milkiness as fresh as from the dairy. The richness of these images overflowed and I was seduced by their sweet nectar.

I know I think differently than most people, or at least most of the people I know, or rather knew til I came here. I put my hands up in two L shapes all the time to frame what I see, getting to the point where I no longer need to do that anymore, the Ls automatically appearing for me in my head. I crawl around on the floor getting dirty, hurting my knees, getting hot and sweaty to capture the perspective I see in my head, I push the limits of what the camera will allow me, cursing at it, aching it to respond to the speed of the ideas running through my head.

I have a cupboard full of SLRs dating back to the 80s from my earliest journeys into film. I would spend hours in India in the 90s constantly changing the aperture to experience depth, lying prostrate before the Taj Mahal, or wading through glacial ice in the Chilean Antarctic, staying long before the rest of the eco tourists had departed into the dingy to capture the changing blues and greens with the light. Spending the night, alone on a tiny island off Malaysia as a teenage backpacker so I could see the early morning sun as it rose behind my A-frame hut listening to the ghekkos above my head. Sitting with Masai warriors in Tanzania's Serengeti and asking their permission for a portrait. I've captured Blue Footed Boobie birds and giant tortoises from Darwin's days on the Galapagos Island, the Great Barrier Reef, the Baltic States, the awe inspiring American national parks which first seduced me to travel to the US in the 80s, then live here. I've woken up to the sound of alpacas in Peru, arriving from the Inca Trail at dawn to watch the sun rise over Macchu Picchu. And everywhere I have been, my cameras have travelled. From some of the lowest places on Earth in Nevada, to the coldest September in Moscow in 90, the driest place on Earth in the Atacama Desert of Chile to the highest mountain ranges of the Himalayas, the wettest in the Amazon, to the most barren in Bolivia and the world's most southerly city of Ushuaia to travel back up through Patagonia and become immersed in an extraordinary wildness. The natural wonders of the World, a Geographer and lover of the Earth at heart. In these two decades, I travelled to more than 50 countries in my real time outside of my job in marketing, that which caused me to look at uninspiring financial advertising images whilst heading for a dream I thought was with the National Geographic and travel guides, writing my journal entries along the way in a growing collection of dusty notebooks.

And then along came two boys, a 6 year long journey of infertility issues with too many challenges to remember, and my perspective changed. What inspired me was something entirely different and the skills I'd self taught in travel photography would need to be rethought when it came to The Boys. And yet the best photographs are born of an artist studying their subject. And I do, every day. They fascinate me, they enthrall me, they amaze me absolutely. They are my muses. I envisaged the boys with their pillowcase gowns hastily cut for their heads and delicate arms, angel wings and tinsel, bringing back memories of Christmas nativity plays of old. They are holding the Santons from Sarah Mog70 which I knew to give Callum in advance to encourage him to stay a while whist he played shepherd. Reuben sat here for a full hour singing "Jingle Bells", and signing, long after Callum had escaped. I signed "I love you" to Reuben as I lay down beside him, his eyes gently flickering with a sleepy afternoon lull approaching and he looked straight at me, his angelic cherubic curls spilling all around his face and said softly, sweetly "I love you". The first very clearly understood expression of those words from Reuben. So crystal clear like Christmas lights on a cold and frosty winter's night. So gorgeous as to leave me with a huge overwhelming feeling of love that reached my tear ducts and shed tears of joy for him. I felt like was in the presence of a real angel, that angels we have known were with us. It was one of the most extraordinary moments I've ever experienced, and it happened today, the Winter Solstice.

I have no Christmas cards in the making, and am pathetically disorganised this year with apology, but to help save the planet, I'm going for a homemade ecard with a personal message to each who've helped me get through the last challenging year. I think this image will suffice, don't you...

We have our wings. It's a Wonderful Life.

PS: Amazed I could find some natural light to work with against the muslin backdrop in the boys' bedroom. It hasn't stopped raining since Thursday. I wanted this shot to be a little of everything I've learned this year through the help of Blip and beyond. PSE8, layers, textures.

Thanks for sharing our journey.