Life is messy. Our days have stains, stumbles and ragged edges. But life is worth it, there’s so much beauty and meaning in each moment, even our most difficult ones. There isn’t a day that goes by that doesn’t offer us an opportunity to photograph something spectacular.

We don’t ever have to look any further than the life unfolding right in front of us to find inspiration, creative challenge, and meaningful moments to capture.

When you turn your lens on your own world and allow things to tell you their story you give yourself the gift of being witness to that which is whizzing by - your life. The minute we pick up our camera, things slow down and can take on a whole new expression.

The grief, boredom, sick days, hardships and even the annoyances suddenly become stunning subjects of our art. All of these moments—the messy, repetitive, sometimes painful moments that make up the bulk of our daily lives—deserve to be witnessed and documented just as much as the shinier, easier ones.

Over the next few newsletters I’m going to share with you a few projects you can play with that can expand your photography practice—and give you permission to document some of the messier, less polished moments of life.

Something very ordinary.

Years ago, a friend challenged me to pick something “ordinary” and photograph it every day for one month. I chose the tabletop.

Over the next thirty days, I captured a series of the everyday moments that took place at the table: Thanksgiving dinner, baking for a sick friend, tea themed birthday party, crafting with my kids, even a set of fingerprints from a police report that was compiled after someone broke into my car. Eventually, I captured the moment we sat with Father John and wrote the program for my dad's funeral.

This “tabletop series” feels like a photo-diary of my family’s life. The practice of making these images has also become a regular expression of my work. To this day I will often get up on my chair and photograph the story unfolding on the table below me.

These photos are rarely "correct" from a technical stand point but I adore the way that I am instantly transported back to that moment when I see them. Even though they rarely show who's in them - I know exactly who was there and what I was feeling at the time. It is a simple and profound way to document who and what is happening in our fast-paced life.

Your invitation: pick something “ordinary” and photograph it every day for thirty days. It’s ok if you don’t end up doing it every single day, just commit to your subject and be intentional about capturing images regularly for the next month. After that your project will take on a life of its own.

You can choose your toothbrush. Your kitchen counter. Your children's abandoned play. The pile of shoes near your front door. Their (or your) unmade beds in the morning. The more "everyday", the better - keep it so easy, so accessible, this way it’s likely to stick and sure to tell an authentic (and often revealing) story over time about your day-to-day world.

It's a beautiful Saturday here in Southern California - sunny and 75 (of course, right?!) - I'm looking out my window at my daughter playing, my oldest studying and the palm trees swaying - the beauty surrounding me right now is piercing in such a good way. I also have a scribbly list of things I'm not getting to, a sink full of not so pretty dishes and I haven't washed my hair for longer than is really acceptable! It's all of it really, almost always. The struggle and the ease, the celebration and the mourning, the settled and the stretching, the messy and the magic.

I think almost all of us are photographers these days, and when we bring a little attention to our picture taking practice it really can become a sacred and beautiful act that results in images that we (and others) will cherish for a very long time.

Much love,

Danielle