Category Archives: Photography

Artists

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click on the picture to see where i got it from (etsy).

Artists* posses a neat talent. We have the ability to create, form, shape, make—whatever word you want to use—amazing things with whatever we’re given. We take what we have and make it into something wild or beautiful or touching.

Writers have a lot. We have our minds, words, a pen, and some paper (or a computer, depending on the person). But we have so much more than that. We can take absolutely anything we see and use it in a story (yeah, even that piece of garbage blowing across the street). We take some boring things, mix it up with the whirlwind of chaos in our heads, and come up with something like a book or a piece of poetry or a short story or whatever. Just look at all of the amazing works that have been created: Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, The Chronicles of Narnia, Percy Jackson, and ______ (insert your own favorite series). And those are only book series! I haven’t even mentioned all of the individual books or the short stories or the poetry and everything else (yes, even non-fiction).

When painters start out, they have some colorful liquid, a blank canvas, and whatever they want to paint. Yet somehow (I don’t know how they do it—it’s amazing) they manage to make some of the most beautiful images in the world.

Dancers have their bodies and their minds. Yeah, they have some training too, but that won’t help them one bit if they don’t want it to. I’ve seen dancers who have amazing potential toss it all away because they don’t care about dance. They have better things to do. And while there’s nothing wrong with that (as long as they really do have better things to do), it proves my point. If you want to be a beautiful dancer, you have to try.

Art is special and precious. It shows that this world has beauty in it. Artists have a way of accentuating that. They have that talent, and I’m ever so grateful that they exist. Because the “earth” without “art” is just “eh.”

Bekah♥

*An artist can be defined as many things, and just about every person has their own opinion of what a real artist is. But I think of artists as writers, photographers, painters, sculptors, dancers, sketchers, singer-songwriters, yes—even you, Miss Stay-At-Home-Mom Who Likes to Create Her Own Little Pieces of Beauty, etc.

Winter is a beautiful thing.

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hello, you beautiful sky.

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my birthday cake.

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shadows.

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pretty, sparkly snow.

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more shadows.

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tea in the absolutely best mug ever.

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moon in the evening.

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the beach.

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foggy fields.

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These are some pictures that have been sitting around doing nothing for the past few months. So today I decided to go through most of them and edit my favorites. And now I’m so sick of Photoshop that I never want to use it again (but I will, because it’s amazingly wonderful at helping me make my pictures look gorgeous).
Winter is a beautiful thing.
Bekah♥

What on Earth is Wrong with this Place?

Today I came across this piece that I made in my much-loved, half-broken, worn notebook. I vaguely remember writing it, but don’t recall what brought around these thoughts. All I remember is that it all started with that circle on the page. I was trying to figure out how to turn a blank page with a black ring on it into a beautiful piece of art.
And then there it was. Fill half of the circle with synonyms for “beautiful,” and the other half with antonyms. And, somehow (I guess), the rest of the words just flowed from my head, through my hands, and onto the paper.

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Which is stronger?
 A kind word, or a derogatory one?
If first: what about one’s insecurities? Would they not kill any goodness in an instant?
If second: how could men possibly be so cruel to each other? Even a weaker but nice word is better than a strong, mean one.
What on earth is wrong with this place?
Contradicting but beautiful. Large, yet so, so small. Full of idolotry and purity. Supposedly sinnless, but so broken we can’t even see our ugliness. So vain, so humble. Confusingly simple. So full of hatred.
I don’t understand this world I live in.
So I’ll cling to Christ, who will save me from this place.
This crazy, twisting, long, fantastic, odd, beautiful life means something to Him.
And I don’t mean to disappoint Him.

Bekah♥

Spices

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One cold January day, a little over a year ago, I got out all of my mom’s Spice Island spices and decided to have a photoshoot. Then, of course, I proceeded to find all sorts of things around the house that fit the “mood” of the photoshoot, and it turned out to be a longer session than planned.
After I was done, I proceeded to mess around with Photoshop, over-edit most of the pictures, and discover new tricks on Elements 9. It was a blast.
(And I must say, spice bottles are absolutely astounding models. They do what you want them to do with no objection, there is no verbal protesting when you have them do something they don’t like, and they don’t move unless you make them. How wonderful!)

Bekah♥

Sunrise, Sunset

 Sunrises:

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Sunsets:

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Listen here.
Sunrise, Sunset (Fiddler on the Roof)

(Tevye)
Is this the little girl I carried?
Is this the little boy at play?

(Golde)
I don’t remember growing older
When did they?

(Tevye)
When did she get to be a beauty?
When did he get to be so tall?

(Golde)
Wasn’t it yesterday
When they were small?

(Men)
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as we gaze

(Women)
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears

(Tevye)
What words of wisdom can I give them?
How can I help to ease their way?

(Tevye)
Now they must learn from one another
Day by day

(Perchik)
They look so natural together

(Hodel)
Just like two newlyweds should be

(Perchik & Hodel)
Is there a canopy in store for me?

(All)
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears

Lyrics from here.
Bekah♥