Zero to Hero-ish blogger here. It’s publishing day in the blog halls of MamaMick, so let me move the pile of laundry off my desk and check out the assignment.
Day 6: Publish a post that includes a new element
I’m going to take a stab at photojournalism.
Photography is a passion and a hobby of which I have absolutely no training or expertise. (Just like my writing!) I know nothing about photojournalism other than it’s words and pictures put together to tell a story. This “photo post” will guide you through a trip my husband and I took last August. It’s relevant here because it’s the event that inspired me to start a blog.
My Week as a BoHo Chick
Born conservative, I am annoyingly responsible to a fault. Last summer, when Hubby asked me to accompany him on a business trip to Fayetteville, Arkansas I spent several precious minutes ticking off the reasons why I couldn’t go.
“It’s too long to be gone from the kids. I shouldn’t take off from work. I have tomatoes to harvest. Who will water my flowers? I have very, um, important stuff to do!”
He rolled his baby blues, coaxed me with sugar and promised that we’d have fun. Before long, I was packed to go with the intent to work from the hotel room and still remain a productive (remote) employee.
As soon as we arrived, my work ethic went right out the window along with the stifling summer air. Who knew that Fayetteville would be such a hotbed of hippy heaven and the perfect place to do some
goofing off soul-searching.
I tried to work, but given that my chosen office for the week was around the corner from the bread bakery and tucked into the cute little corner pictured below, poetry and literary fiction quickly took the place of spreadsheets and medical journals.
In case you hadn’t guessed, I’m an obedient-and-don’t-want-to-feel-out-of-place Midwest girl. So that I didn’t look like a tourist, I quickly adopted the dress for the week. Lacy, flowing shifts took the place of A-line skirts. I threw on flats and decorated my ears and neck with the funky jewelry crafted by local artists sold in eclectic street-side boutiques. My hair was braided and woven with ribbon and jute. Patchouli wafted through the sheets in our hotel room and I started using words like “esoteric” “homeopathic” and “aura.” Okay, I didn’t actually say those words out LOUD. But I could hear them inside my brain. My newly found RIGHT-brain!
I pleaded the 5th when hubby asked me how much money I’d spent on clothes that I’d never be able to wear to my day job. I brewed him some tea and whispered Namaste under my breath.
For three days, I traded my laptop and football mom duties for a camera, an iPhone and a new Instagram obsession. I took pictures of everything.
I was completely submerged in my own dreamy Bohemian world. Hubby tried to lure me away from the camera with sweet company, good food and great beer, but he quickly saw that it was a lost cause. Earlier in the day, he had to remind me that I was standing in the middle of the railroad tracks to get these shots.
The stop at the book store might have been my favorite. The essence and smell of well-loved and worn pages mixed with incense lured me through the labyrinth of old and out of print books. I spent hours here. Mostly taking pictures and looking for vintage horticulture encyclopedias.
Hubby had to finally hunt me down and lure me out with…..
“Really? Now you’re taking pictures of candy?”
“Sorry babe! Look at the light.”
Even now in the cold of winter, I still think of those days in Fayetteville with nostalgia and gratitude. Hubby knows me better than I know myself and knew a getaway would help reset my tired, old rutting soul.
That trip marked the beginning of the journey that you’ve been sharing with me since October. The journey to make my life more well-rounded, more playful, authentic and full of joy. You can come on this journey, too! In fact, I hope you do.
Borrow my lacy dress if you’d like.
Photos: Fayetteville, AR Aug 2013 More on Instagram @mamamickterry