destinylaharris

Category: Learning to look closer

  • 📷 Learning to Look Closer #10

    I think one of my favorite things about doing this series is realizing that I don’t actually have to go looking for something worth photographing.

    Most of the time, it’s already there.

    I just have to notice it.

    And apparently this week, the things that made me stop ranged from a tiny gothic sticker on a gas pump to Batman secretly being an alarm clock.

    So.

    You know.

    A very normal assortment of things. 😂

    A Tiny Gas-Pump Stranger

    I stopped for gas this week and noticed this little lady hanging out on the pump.

    That’s it.

    That’s the entire story. 😂

    I have absolutely no idea who put her there.

    I don’t know how long she’s been there.

    But there was something about this tiny, gothic, horned woman sitting directly above a giant WARNING sign that made me stop for a second.

    Someone had this sticker.

    Someone decided this gas pump was where she belonged.

    And now everybody who stops there gets a tiny piece of that stranger’s personality without ever knowing who they were.

    I kinda love that.

    Lunch, According to Tiny Humans

    This one is not pretty.

    There is absolutely no artistic arrangement happening here. 😂

    But this is what happens when you let a four-year-old and two one-year-olds have opinions about lunch.

    Reese’s-filled pretzels.

    Mandarin oranges—or, judging by the crime scene, what used to be mandarin oranges.

    And whatever else apparently made sense at the time.

    There are peels everywhere.

    Containers everywhere.

    Wipes in the background.

    Random cups.

    Absolute chaos.

    And I almost wouldn’t have thought to take a picture of it because it’s just a messy table.

    Except…

    it’s also one of those pictures I think I’ll like more later than I do right now.

    Because someday there won’t be tiny people making absolute disasters out of lunch.

    And this?

    This is what life looked like while there were.

    Messy counts, too.

    The Sky Was Showing Off

    And then there was this morning.

    Nothing particularly interesting was happening underneath that sky.

    Buildings.

    A fence.

    A basketball hoop.

    Trees.

    Just ordinary things I see all the time.

    But above all of it?

    That.

    Pink.

    Orange.

    Purple.

    One of those sunrises that makes you stop whatever you’re doing for a second because apparently the sky has decided to be dramatic before you’ve even fully started your day.

    And I’m glad I noticed.

    Because a few minutes later, it was gone.

    Wait…That’s a Clock?

    And finally:

    Batman.

    One of my kiddos brought this into class today, and at first I didn’t think anything of it.

    It was LEGO Batman.

    Cool.

    Then I looked again.

    Wait.

    Is Batman telling me what time it is?

    😂

    Apparently, yes.

    It was an alarm clock.

    I had looked directly at the giant digital numbers in his stomach and somehow my brain had decided those were simply none of my business.

    And weirdly enough, I think Batman might sum up this entire series better than anything else I photographed this week.

    Because Learning to Look Closer doesn’t always mean finding something beautiful.

    Sometimes it does.

    Sometimes you look up and catch a sunrise before it disappears.

    But sometimes it means noticing a tiny sticker somebody left behind.

    Sometimes it means realizing that the messy table in front of you is evidence of a very specific season of your life.

    And sometimes…

    it means looking at LEGO Batman twice before realizing the man has been telling you the time this entire time.

    😂

    There are things worth noticing everywhere.

    Beautiful things.

    Funny things.

    Messy things.

    Completely pointless little things that make you smile for half a second.

    You just have to actually look at them.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. What’s something you’ve looked directly at before realizing what you were actually looking at? 😂

  • 🕷️ Learning to Look Closer #9 — I Looked. I Regret It.

    Usually, Learning to Look Closer is about noticing the things we might otherwise miss.

    The light coming through the trees.

    The colors hiding in a sunset.

    The tiny details we walk past every day because we’re too busy looking somewhere else.

    It’s supposed to be about slowing down.

    Paying attention.

    Finding something beautiful in the ordinary.

    Well.

    I looked closer.

    I would like to formally withdraw my previous advice. 😂

    I’ve been sick all week.

    And somewhere between laying in bed, watching entirely too much television, and feeling like my head was approximately 97% congestion, I decided it would be a good idea to go through all of my clothes.

    Because apparently being sick wasn’t enough suffering.

    So there I was.

    Surrounded by clothes.

    Completely out of energy.

    Ready to give up on the entire project and crawl back into bed.

    And then I looked up.

    There he was.

    A spider.

    Just chilling above my bedroom door.

    In my bedroom.

    Rent free.

    Like he had somewhere to be and I was interrupting him.

    Now, there is something you should probably know about me.

    I am terrified of spiders.

    Not uncomfortable.

    Not “Ew, a spider.”

    Terrified.

    And naturally, this little asshole had positioned himself somewhere I couldn’t reach him.

    So I did what any brave, capable, independent 33-year-old woman would do.

    I stared at him while trying to figure out how the hell I was going to kill him without getting close enough for him to potentially touch me.

    There was just one problem.

    I looked away.

    For approximately half a second.

    When I looked back—

    he was gone.

    Do you know what’s worse than seeing a spider in your bedroom?

    NOT SEEING THE SPIDER YOU JUST SAW IN YOUR BEDROOM.

    Because now we have options.

    Is he behind the dresser?

    Under the bed?

    On the ceiling?

    Did he leave?

    Is he currently watching me write this?

    WHERE DID YOU GO, SIR?

    And why were you so fucking fast?! 😭

    I read something once about jumping spiders that said they tend to have their own little routines.

    They supposedly wander around the same areas doing their tiny spider business, so if you suddenly notice one somewhere you normally don’t, maybe you’re the one who stepped outside your usual routine.

    I have absolutely no idea how scientifically accurate that is.

    But I’ve been thinking about it.

    Because maybe he’s been here before.

    Maybe while I’ve been living my life, sleeping in my bed and minding my own business, this tiny creature has been living an entire little life alongside mine.

    Taking the same routes.

    Visiting the same places.

    Doing whatever the hell spiders do all day.

    And I simply never noticed him.

    Until our routines crossed.

    Which is actually kind of fascinating.

    I hate it.

    But it’s fascinating. 😂

    Maybe there’s something to that.

    There are entire little worlds existing around us all the time.

    Things happening in corners we never look toward.

    Creatures following routines we know nothing about.

    Tiny lives intersecting with ours for a few seconds before disappearing again.

    Sometimes looking closer means noticing a beautiful sunset.

    Sometimes it means noticing the way two people love each other.

    Sometimes it means finding something extraordinary hiding inside something completely ordinary.

    And sometimes—

    you look up while sorting clothes and discover that you apparently have a roommate.

    A roommate who has now disappeared somewhere inside your bedroom.

    So perhaps Learning to Look Closer needs one small amendment:

    Pay attention to the world around you.

    Notice the little things.

    Look for what you normally overlook.

    But occasionally?

    Mind your fucking business.

    Because now I know there’s a spider somewhere in my bedroom.

    And I can never unknow it.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. If you happen to know where my new roommate went, no you don’t. I would actually prefer to sleep tonight. 🕷️😭

  • Learning to Look Closer #8

    I almost didn’t take this picture.

    There wasn’t anything particularly exciting happening.

    I wasn’t somewhere new.

    There wasn’t a perfect, wide-open view of the sunset.

    There were just trees.

    A lot of them, actually. 😂

    Branches everywhere. Power lines near the bottom. One tree that looks like it gave up on having leaves before everybody else.

    And somewhere behind all of it, the sky was glowing.

    So I stopped.

    And I looked up.

    The sunset wasn’t perfectly framed. The trees blocked most of it. I couldn’t see the horizon, and there was no way to get a “better” view without going somewhere else.

    But I didn’t really want a better view.

    I liked this one.

    Because the light kept finding little places to come through.

    Between the branches.

    Through the leaves.

    Around the trees.

    Little pieces of gold tucked into all that darkness.

    And the longer I stood there looking at it, the more there was to see.

    There was still blue hiding at the top of the sky.

    Soft pink mixed into the clouds.

    Bright yellow and orange burning through the thickest parts of the trees.

    Living branches tangled together with bare ones.

    None of it was neat.

    None of it was unobstructed.

    And somehow, that made it prettier.

    I think sometimes we get so used to looking for the perfect view that we forget to appreciate the one we actually have.

    We want the sunset without the power lines.

    The sky without the branches.

    The picture without anything getting in the way.

    But maybe everything in the way is part of the picture, too.

    Maybe the trees weren’t blocking the sunset.

    Maybe they were showing me where the light was.

    So, I took the picture.

    Not because it was perfect.

    Just because I looked up at the right moment and thought,

    Oh.

    That’s pretty.

    And sometimes, that’s reason enough.

    —Destiny

    P.S. When was the last time you stopped to look at something ordinary long enough to realize it was actually kind of beautiful?

  • Learning to Look Closer #7: Meet Sandy

    I think I accidentally made a squirrel friend.

    Her name is Sandy.

    Did she tell me that?

    No.

    Did I ask?

    Also no.

    She’s Sandy now. 😂

    It started with me feeding her once.

    Then I fed her again.

    And again.

    And again.

    So at this point, I’m not entirely sure whether I’m observing nature or if I’ve accidentally entered into some kind of snack-based agreement with a squirrel.

    Either way, she keeps coming back.

    And I’ve started noticing little things.

    How cautiously she approaches at first.

    How she pauses like she’s deciding whether I can be trusted.

    How quickly that hesitation disappears once food is involved.

    Relatable, honestly. 😂

    The first time I saw her, she was just a squirrel.

    One of those little things you notice outside for a few seconds before going back to whatever you were doing.

    But then I stopped.

    I watched her.

    I fed her.

    And suddenly she wasn’t just a squirrel anymore.

    She was Sandy.

    There’s something kind of funny about that.

    The world is full of things we pass every day without really seeing them.

    Birds in the yard.

    Bugs on the window.

    Squirrels running across fences.

    Sunsets behind trees.

    They’re always there.

    But sometimes all it takes is slowing down for a minute before something ordinary starts feeling a little less ordinary.

    Maybe that’s what I like most about photography—and about this little series.

    It gives me an excuse to stop.

    To notice.

    To pay attention long enough for a random squirrel to become Sandy. 😂

    And apparently Sandy knows where the snacks are now.

    So I have a feeling this won’t be the last time you hear about her.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. Have you ever accidentally made friends with a wild animal?

  • Learning to Look Closer #6

    see this thing all the time.

    It’s a sensory board we have at work, covered in hundreds of tiny sequins. The kids can run their hands across them, flip them back and forth, change the colors, make patterns, or sometimes just enjoy the feeling of them moving beneath their fingers.

    Normally, I see it from above.

    A bunch of colorful sequins.

    Then I put my camera almost level with it.

    And suddenly, it looked enormous.

    Individual sequins became little overlapping discs of color. The ones closest to my camera stayed sharp while everything behind them melted into tiny circles of light.

    It almost looked like a landscape.

    Nothing about the sensory board had changed.

    I had.

    Or, more specifically, my perspective had.

    That’s something I love about photography.

    It gives me an excuse to look at ordinary things from angles I probably never would otherwise.

    Sometimes looking closer really does mean getting closer.

    Other times, it means getting lower.

    Turning something around.

    Looking underneath it.

    Standing somewhere you normally wouldn’t.

    Because sometimes there isn’t anything new waiting to be discovered.

    Sometimes you’ve already seen it a hundred times.

    You just haven’t seen it like this yet.

    — Destiny

    P.S. Pick something ordinary around you today and look at it from an angle you normally wouldn’t. You might be surprised by what it turns into.

    Fediverse Reactions

  • Learning to Look Closer #5

    Sometimes looking closer means seeing something beautiful.

    Sometimes it means looking into your aquarium and wondering what exactly your snail thinks she’s doing.

    Because apparently the glass wasn’t interesting enough.

    The plants weren’t interesting enough.

    No.

    She needed to climb.

    All the way to the top.

    And then hang there like this was a completely normal decision.

    So, naturally, I grabbed my camera.

    I’ve watched snails move around an aquarium plenty of times, but there was something different about seeing her from this angle.

    Usually, we see the shell first.

    The spiral.

    The part that makes us immediately recognize a snail as a snail.

    But from underneath, she looked completely different.

    Her shell became this enormous shield above her body. Her tiny head peeked over the edge. One little antenna stretched outward while the other disappeared somewhere behind her.

    And somehow, an animal we usually think of as slowly crawling along the bottom had managed to get herself all the way up there.

    I think that’s what I like about taking pictures of little things.

    You start noticing how strange everything actually is.

    Snails climb.

    Moths have fuzzy heads.

    Insects have colors and patterns we can’t see until we’re inches away.

    Things that seem ordinary from a distance become almost alien when you get close enough.

    And this particular little alien apparently wanted the penthouse view.

    I have no idea what she was looking for up there.

    Maybe nothing.

    Maybe she simply discovered she could climb it and decided to keep going.

    Either way, I’m glad I stopped long enough to notice.

    Because sometimes looking closer doesn’t reveal some profound lesson about life.

    Sometimes it just reveals a snail doing something weird.

    And honestly?

    I think those moments deserve to be noticed, too.

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever caught one of your pets doing?

    Fediverse Reactions

  • Learning to Look Closer #4

    Most people probably wouldn’t have stopped for her.

    She was just a little brown moth outside near the cat food.

    And with cats around, that probably wasn’t the safest place for her to be.

    So I picked her up.

    I expected her to fight me.

    To flutter her wings, scramble away, or do whatever tiny moths do when a giant human suddenly decides to scoop them up.

    She didn’t.

    She just let me.

    No fighting.

    No struggling.

    She sat completely still on the tip of my finger while I carried her somewhere safer.

    And maybe I’m giving a tiny moth far too much credit, but in that moment, it felt a little like trust.

    So, naturally, I stopped to look closer.

    Up close, she wasn’t just a little brown moth anymore.

    Her head was covered in soft, golden-brown fuzz. Her wings looked almost like velvet, folded neatly against her back. Her antennae were impossibly thin, and those tiny black legs held onto my finger while I moved her away from danger.

    She was beautiful.

    Not in the bright, obvious way butterflies tend to be.

    Moths are quieter about it.

    Butterflies get flowers and gardens and people stopping to take pictures.

    Moths get porch lights and people trying to shoo them out of the house.

    But look closer.

    There’s something beautiful about them, too.

    Maybe that’s one of my favorite things about taking pictures.

    It gives me an excuse to stop long enough to notice things I might otherwise walk right past.

    The fuzzy head.

    The tiny feet.

    The way plain brown wings turn almost golden when the light hits them.

    And sometimes, a tiny creature trusting you enough to let you carry her somewhere safe.

    She was only on my finger for a little while.

    But it was long enough for me to notice her.

    Sometimes that’s all it takes.

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s something small you almost overlooked lately?

    Fediverse Reactions

  • Learning to Look Closer #3

    Some people will look at this photo and see a little boy playing with a hat that’s much too big for him.

    I see something else.

    For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this silly habit of balancing random things on my head and dramatically “sneezing” them off just to make him laugh.

    The other day, he crawled up beside me, grabbed my hat, pulled it over his face, and started trying to “sneeze” it off himself.

    Nobody taught him to do that.

    He was watching.

    It’s funny how children are paying attention long before we realize they are. They notice our words, our habits, our routines, and even the little things we do without thinking.

    Sometimes, they love us by becoming a little bit like us.

    That realization stopped me in my tracks.

    This picture isn’t just of my nephew wearing a hat that’s too big for him.

    It’s a reminder that someone I love is learning from me every single day.

    And if I’m being honest…

    That melts my whole heart.

    I wouldn’t picture my life being any better without him.

    Until next time,

    -Destiny

    P.S.-What’s something you’ve caught a child doing that made you stop and think, “Yep… they definitely got that from me.” 😂

  • Learning to Look Closer #2: Just Outside the Window

    My nephew was standing at the window this morning when a tiny robber fly flew up to the glass.

    For a minute, it almost seemed like they were entertaining each other.

    It would fly away, then come back again, hovering just long enough to catch his attention. Every time it returned, he lit up a little more.

    Then it landed.

    I grabbed my phone, quietly walked over, and snapped a single picture through the window.

    One click.

    That was all I got.

    As soon as the photo was taken, it lifted off and disappeared.

    The whole moment probably lasted less than a minute.

    Most people would’ve seen a bug on a window.

    I saw a tiny reminder that wonder doesn’t always announce itself.

    Sometimes it visits for thirty seconds, waits patiently while you’re paying attention, and leaves before you realize you’ve just been given something worth remembering.

    Maybe that’s why I love photography.

    Not because it lets me capture beautiful things.

    Because it reminds me to notice them while they’re still here.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. Have you ever had an ordinary moment that stayed with you far longer than you expected?