Beating Myself Up

Periodically, though my life is very full as the mother of a young child, I beat myself up for not progressing with my "art." People ask me to send the photos out, and if it's not one thing, then it's another that hampers me.

I went through a huge bout of beating myself up, and I finally got sick of it. I tried to understand what it was all about. And I realized it came down to the fact that I am mostly self-taught. Even though I have a major in photography, I did it at a university where there was no photography department, and I carved out a dual major photography/literature for myself.

Instead of honoring the fact that I was a trailblazer with the power of conviction, I let my insecurities win, time and time again, forgetting that some of the images that have come through my lens and then through my computer, have deeply inspired and touched people.

What is more precious than that? No degree nor schooling can give me that. Nor anyone else, for that matter.

And so once I crawled out of the valley of self-flagellation (for now) and claimed what I have done (which includes having photos published in Yoga Journal and French Vogue, and a solo-art exhibit in Paris, as well as the joy that friends have experienced when they have received a mandala or a Polaroid transfer), I realized that the obstacles that seemed as high as the Himalayas, are actually nearly as flat as Holland.