destinylaharris

Tag: Photography

  • 📷 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? 😂

  • Sunday Things #9

    This week felt like my body and my life were operating on two completely different schedules.

    My body wanted heating pads, pain patches, hot baths, a recliner, and for everybody to leave me the hell alone.

    My life said:

    Cool. Anyway, you’re going back to work. The kids miss you. Your sister needs help. There are dinosaurs to watch. Somebody is going to walk UP a slide. And apparently you’re going to end the week at a spontaneous photoshoot.

    😅

    I started the week on my period, which is exhausting enough on its own, but now that I know I have both a fibroid and endometriosis, I’ve been doing what any curious person with access to Google does:

    Looking up all the weird shit my body does and going,

    Ohhhhh. So THAT’S why.

    😂

    The lower back pain.

    The constant urge to pee.

    The horrible cramping when I poop.

    The extra bleeding when I do.

    Apparently, my body has explanations for things I’ve just been suffering through for years.

    And listen—

    period poops are already the WORST.

    I do not need two separate medical conditions working together to make them worse. 😮‍💨

    Sunday was actually surprisingly good for day two of my period. I barely hurt all day, and I had even slept through the entire night before—which is WILD for me because I’m normally up and down for the first two or three nights because I’m hurting so badly.

    Then I pooped.

    And apparently that was enough to ruin everybody’s good time.

    😂

    By 4:30 Monday morning, I was hurting badly enough that I ended up taking an hour-long nap on the toilet so I could free bleed.

    Obviously.

    Nobody ever talks about how much passing period clots can fucking hurt, either.

    This period was super clotty, and whether that had anything to do with recently having surgery or not, I have no idea.

    I just know:

    boy, I was in pain.

    I finally fell back asleep around 7 and slept until 11:30.

    Thankfully, my sister had asked Mom to watch the kids that day because I really just could not.

    I remembered that the hysterectomy belt my boyfriend’s mom gave me had heating/cooling pads in it, popped those bad boys in the microwave for thirty seconds on each side, and discovered that I basically own a portable heating pad.

    Guess who’s taking that bitch to work?

    🤷🏻‍♀️😂

    Tuesday morning?

    4 AM.

    Again.

    More pain.

    More soaking in the bathtub.

    And eventually a PTO day because there was absolutely no way I was going back to work like that.

    At one point, I was so over the pain that I genuinely thought about asking my boyfriend if he would be okay with adopting because I just—

    cannot keep doing this.

    I’m ready for them to get this stuff taken care of.

    My periods are exhausting.

    Physically.

    Emotionally.

    All of it.

    But somewhere between all the heating pads, pain patches, baths, and me refusing to leave the recliner unless absolutely necessary…

    the rest of my life kept happening anyway.

    And somehow, by the end of the week, there was a whole lot of good mixed in with the hurting.

    ☕ This Week’s Comfort

    This one is easy.

    My heating pad.

    😮‍💨

    That thing and I have been in a committed relationship all week.

    Monday, it was the heating pads from the hysterectomy belt.

    Tuesday, I basically lived in the recliner with my heating pad and only got up when I absolutely needed to.

    And then Doodoo showed up.

    He was asleep when Mom brought him over, and when he came inside, he looked at me, climbed into my lap, and immediately went right back to sleep.

    I sat him on my stomach.

    And somehow?

    His weight actually helped.

    So I leaned the recliner back with this sleeping baby sprawled across me and got maybe thirty or forty-five minutes where I wasn’t hurting much at all.

    I was almost asleep myself before the other two came inside.

    😂

    Apparently Doodoo is also a heating pad.

    A significantly heavier one.

    With legs.

    And opinions.

    But I’ll take what I can get.

    📷 Through My Lens

    I think my favorite part of this week happened today.

    I took Doodoo home early, came back, cleaned the living room, got myself ready, and headed to my friend’s house.

    And then we just drove around and took pictures.

    No real plan.

    Just a spontaneous photoshoot.

    She took me to 420 Road, which is apparently basically a mile of road where people go to spray paint.

    I had never been there before today.

    Then we went to take pictures with planes coming in.

    😂

    And it was actually really fucking fun.

    After spending the beginning of the week barely wanting to leave my recliner, ending it out driving around, finding weird places, and taking pictures felt good.

    I love photography.

    I love finding interesting things to photograph.

    And apparently I also love standing around waiting for airplanes to fly over me.

    Who knew?

    😂

    💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying

    I don’t think you always realize how much you’re part of somebody else’s routine until you disappear from it for a while.

    Wednesday was finally my first day back at work.

    And all morning I heard:

    “Welcome back.”

    “Where have you been?”

    “I thought you weren’t working here anymore.”

    “Are you okay now?”

    “What happened?”

    “You’ve been missed.”

    I didn’t tell everybody where I was going before I left.

    Honestly, I only really talk to maybe five people there anyway. The people who mattered knew I had surgery and knew I was going to be gone for a month.

    I wasn’t about to make some giant announcement or walk around campus telling everybody individually.

    😂

    But apparently people noticed.

    And then I got on my kiddo’s bus.

    He stood up.

    Looked at me.

    Looked at the bus monitor.

    Looked back at me.

    And just—

    smiled.

    This huge smile.

    🤣

    He genuinely looked flabbergasted for a second.

    Like his brain needed a minute to process:

    Wait.

    She’s back?!

    Then he finally remembered he was supposed to grab his bag and get off the bus.

    He spent the rest of the day running back over to me for hugs and back scratches.

    Although I’m pretty sure he missed my nails more than he actually missed me.

    😂

    And apparently he wasn’t the only one.

    Wednesday evening, Sissy and Doodoo called wanting apples.

    So obviously I grabbed my last three apples, a Fudge Round, and a Nutty Bar and went over there.

    We played.

    Had a little dance party.

    Snuggled.

    And at one point I had a kid on each hip while another one tried climbing up my leg, slipped on my pajama pants, and pulled my pants down with him.

    ☠️🤣

    My sister had to pull them back up for me.

    When I left, Pooh Boy threw a tantrum because he wanted to stay the night.

    Then Thursday morning my sister told me he’d been up crying because he wanted to stay with me.

    😭

    And Thursday night, after Doodoo and Pooh Boy spent the evening at my house, Mom took them home.

    I was still on the phone with my sister when they pulled up, and Doodoo was crying.

    He had been perfectly fine when he left my house, so I asked what happened.

    My sister opened his door.

    And there he was, crying:

    “Blah Blah!”

    🥲

    Baby.

    I told him I had to work the next day, but I could come get him afterward and he could stay with me all weekend.

    He stopped crying and said okay.

    My babies.

    😭

    It breaks my whole soul when they cry because they want to stay with me and I can’t keep them.

    But between them and my kiddo at work this week, I realized something:

    being missed is a really strange kind of love.

    You aren’t there to see the moment somebody notices you’re gone.

    You just come back and find the space they were holding for you.

    ❤️ This Week’s Gratitude

    This week, I’m grateful that I got to come back.

    Back to work.

    Back to my kiddo.

    Back to some kind of normal routine.

    Even if my body isn’t completely caught up yet.

    Wednesday made that VERY clear.

    My hips and sides were killing me. I only made it two laps around the track before I needed to sit down.

    I don’t know how much of it was from being off my feet for so long, how much was from surgery and still healing, or how much my period was contributing.

    But my body definitely needs some time to get used to being back.

    Thursday, my lower back was in knots badly enough that Mom had to bring me a pain patch at work.

    I didn’t transition my kiddo nearly as much as I probably should have because I was hurting, and he was not thrilled about that.

    Which I understand.

    His routine changed because I couldn’t do what I normally do.

    And meanwhile, Wednesday he had thrown his only tantrum of the day because I told him to take a break from working and go play.

    🤣

    Apparently I returned to a tiny workaholic.

    But despite the pain and despite realizing that getting back to normal might take a little longer than I wanted—

    I got to go back.

    And overall?

    My first day back was really good.

    I’m grateful for that.

    😂 This Week’s “Well…That Happened.”

    I had options this week.

    So many options.

    Doodoo had a pull-up situation that very much justified why we call him Doodoo, while repeatedly announcing:

    “I SHIT!”

    Yes, sir.

    Yes, you did.

    And you stink.

    🤣

    Then there was Doodoo trying to manipulate Mawmaw Nesi into letting him go back outside after I already told him no.

    Me: “You trying to get Mawmaw in trouble?”

    Doodoo:

    “Yeah!”

    At least he’s honest.

    😂

    There was Pooh Boy climbing out of the bathtub by himself.

    There was my vacuum still sounding like a motorcycle until I finally got down on the floor and changed the brush.

    There was my sister dropping her vape into the bathtub.

    There was the return of the Medusa doorbell—which, apparently, I have now learned to weaponize against children.

    “Line up or I’ll push the button!”

    Everybody lined up.

    Somebody started crying in the car?

    I held up Medusa.

    Silence.

    ☠️🤣

    Last week that damn thing scared the absolute shit out of me.

    This week?

    I’m considering buying one.

    Character development.

    🤣

    But none of those win.

    Because Pooh Boy—

    my sweet little Pooh Boy—

    has apparently decided that walking normally is beneath him.

    Thursday, he was outside playing with the Frozen ride-on toy. Mawmaw Nesi had tied a rope around it because the boys can’t figure out how to scoot that particular one across the grass.

    Pooh Boy somehow got the rope wrapped around both arms and one leg.

    He wasn’t hurt.

    He wasn’t in danger.

    He was just tired, frustrated, and apparently convinced that the appropriate response was to roll around in the grass screaming.

    I kept telling him:

    “Pooh Boy, come here and I’ll help you.”

    He’d look at me.

    Reach toward me.

    Cry.

    And then—

    GO BACK TO ROLLING AROUND.

    ☠️

    Eventually, he got unstuck and went back to playing.

    Cool.

    Crisis over.

    I looked down at my phone for approximately two seconds to read a text from my sister.

    I looked back up.

    Mawmaw Nesi was running toward the slide.

    And Pooh Boy was standing—

    STANDING—

    at the top of it.

    Laughing his little ass off.

    He didn’t climb the ladder.

    Mawmaw Nesi watched him.

    HE WALKED STRAIGHT UP THE SLIDE.

    All the way.

    Without falling.

    Sir.

    You cannot take TWO STEPS across solid ground without randomly falling over.

    But you can apparently scale playground equipment like a fucking mountain goat?!

    IN TWO SECONDS?!

    ☠️☠️☠️

    I don’t understand him.

    I have stopped trying.

    And now it’s Sunday night.

    The boys stayed with us this weekend.

    There were a LOT of dinosaurs.

    Doodoo and I watched every Jurassic Park/Jurassic World movie Hulu had on Saturday because that baby loves his dinosaurs. 😂

    My sister touched up my hair.

    The boys got to stay up a little late.

    We all slept until nine this morning.

    Doodoo and I got one more dinosaur cuddle in before I took him home.

    Then I spent the afternoon with my friend taking pictures.

    And naturally, as soon as I got home, my sister called because she needed me to take her to get a new vape after dropping hers in the bathtub.

    😂

    She did get me one of those real-fruit TikTok ice creams, though.

    The mango one.

    And omggggg.

    DELICIOUS.

    Unfortunately, cold things trigger my asthma, so now I’m fighting an asthma attack because apparently even eating ice cream has to come with consequences.

    ☠️

    Stupid body.

    Stupid cold things.

    Stupid asthma.

    And now it’s after seven.

    Dinner still needs to be cooked.

    I’m exhausted.

    And I have work tomorrow.

    But compared with how this week started?

    I’ll take it.

    I started the week curled up in pain, wondering how much longer I can keep doing this.

    I’m ending it with freshly touched-up hair, a camera full of pictures, a weekend full of dinosaurs and babies, and the knowledge that apparently Medusa can control an entire group of children faster than any adult in this family.

    😂

    Not a bad ending.

    Now somebody please cook dinner for me.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. What’s one completely ordinary thing from your week that ended up meaning more to you than you expected?

  • 🕷️ 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 #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.

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  • 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?

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  • Sunday Things #4

    It’s strange how quickly your definition of a good day can change.

    A couple of weeks ago, a good day probably wouldn’t have been defined by taking a shower without immediately needing to lie down afterward.

    Or being able to leave the house for a few hours.

    Or waking up and realizing the cramps that had been trying to kill me for three straight days were finally gone.

    But apparently, this is where we are now. 😂

    This week was my first full week of recovery, and I am learning that healing has absolutely no interest in being consistent.

    One day, I feel almost normal.

    The next, standing in the shower for a little too long makes me feel like I’ve run a marathon.

    And somewhere in the middle of all of that, my period decided this was the perfect time to show up and make everything approximately 700 times worse.

    My body has been through enough.

    She could’ve sat this month out. 😒

    Still, by the end of the week, things started feeling a little more normal.

    I left the house.

    I saw family.

    My nephews stayed the night.

    I went to a baby shower.

    I picked up my camera again.

    And for a few hours today, I wasn’t sitting around thinking about recovering from surgery.

    I was just…out.

    Doing something.

    Being around people.

    Feeling a little bit like myself again.

    Turns out, I missed her.

    ☕ This Week’s Comfort

    Movies in bed.

    My boyfriend renting the new Backrooms movie so we could watch it at home.

    Cuddling in the recliner while watching him play video games.

    My heating pad, even though it completely betrayed me when I actually needed it.

    Naps.

    Clean clothes.

    A long shower.

    And finally reaching the point where getting comfortable doesn’t require rearranging seventeen pillows and negotiating with my abdomen first.

    There is something deeply underrated about the first few days after surgery when ordinary things start feeling ordinary again.

    📷 Through My Lens

    I picked up my camera again this week.

    Not for long.

    Not for some planned photography adventure.

    I took it with me to my friend’s baby shower, and I ended up getting some really good pictures of her.

    And I think I needed that more than I realized.

    After spending so much time in bed or in the recliner, watching the world happen from one spot, it felt really good to look through my camera again.

    To notice light.

    Expressions.

    Little moments worth keeping.

    I’m still healing.

    I’m still limited.

    But apparently my creativity didn’t go anywhere.

    It was just waiting for me to get off the couch. 😂

    💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying

    There’s a weird point in recovery where you start feeling better before you’re actually better.

    And I think I’ve reached it.

    Friday, I had very little pain. After the week I’d had, I felt damn near fully recovered.

    Then I move around too much and my body very quickly reminds me:

    Ma’am.

    You literally just had surgery.

    I’m ready to do things again.

    I’m ready to go places.

    I’m ready to stop thinking about whether something is too heavy for me to lift.

    More than anything, I’m ready to be able to pick up my nephews again. 😭

    But feeling better and being healed aren’t the same thing.

    Unfortunately, my body seems to understand that better than my brain does.

    So, for now, I’m trying to listen when it tells me I’ve done enough.

    Even when I really, really don’t want to.

    ❤️ This Week’s Gratitude

    My sister.

    Without question.

    This period hit me like a fucking freight train.

    Norco didn’t touch the cramps.

    Ibuprofen didn’t touch them.

    My heating pad basically looked at me and said, good luck though.

    Then my sister showed up with Midol and more disposable period panties because she knew I was miserable.

    I could have cried. 🥹

    There are grand gestures of love, and then there is somebody showing up with exactly what you need when you feel like absolute shit.

    I’ll take the second one every time.

    I’m also grateful for my boyfriend, who has spent another week taking care of me, keeping me company, watching movies with me, and generally making being stuck at home suck a little less.

    For my nephews coming over.

    For getting to see friends today.

    For being able to go to my friend’s baby shower, even if I did have to leave a little early when I started getting sore.

    And for my body.

    Even though I have complained about her approximately 4,762 times this week, she’s healing.

    I should probably give her a little credit for that.

    😂 This Week’s “Well…That Happened.”

    Where do I even begin?

    First:

    Today’s poop was easier.

    Listen.

    Post-surgery, you celebrate different milestones. 😂

    Second, I got my period immediately after abdominal surgery because apparently my uterus saw everything else happening down there and said,

    You know what this situation needs? More blood.

    And because I can’t use tampons right now, I have been introduced to the wonderful world of disposable period panties.

    I support free bleeding.

    I really do.

    But I prefer my free bleeding to happen while I am sitting on the toilet like God and plumbing intended.

    Feeling blood slowly leave your body while you’re wearing what is essentially a socially acceptable diaper?

    Absolutely fucking not.

    0/10.

    Hated the experience.

    And finally…

    Today at my friend’s baby shower, we played the game where you guess how big around the pregnant belly is.

    I won.

    I was only off by two inches.

    How did I estimate the measurement so accurately?

    Did I carefully study her belly?

    Use some sort of spatial reasoning?

    Possess an unexplained talent for estimating circumference?

    No.

    I measured my boobs. ☠️☠️☠️

    And apparently my boobs are an excellent unit of measurement.

    I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this information now that I have it.

    But I won.

    So.

    Science. 😂

    Until next time.

    -Destiny

    P.s.- What’s one little thing that made you feel like yourself again this week?

  • 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

  • Sunday Things #2

    There’s something about Sundays that makes me look back at the week a little differently.

    The little moments start connecting.

    The random conversations, the small victories, the things that almost got forgotten somehow end up becoming the parts I remember the most.

    This week wasn’t loud.

    But it was full.

    For the first time in a while, I felt ahead instead of behind. I spent a lot of time writing, researching, and creating, and I realized how much I’ve missed having a project that genuinely excites me. History After Dark is quickly becoming one of my favorite things I’ve ever worked on.

    ☕ This Week’s Comfort

    Morning quiet.

    Writing before work.

    Watching Bailey Sarian while my nephews napped.

    And realizing one burned out bathroom light somehow made the room feel…cozier instead of darker.

    📷 Through My Lens

    Saturday’s photoshoot almost didn’t go as planned.

    The rain sent us downtown instead of out to the sunflower field, and honestly, I wouldn’t change it. We ended up with some of my favorite photos we’ve taken.

    Sometimes the backup plan ends up being the better story.

    💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying

    I think creativity comes in seasons.

    Some weeks I struggle to write a paragraph.

    This week I finished my first History After Dark article, completed my second, finished all the research for my third, and somehow still found myself writing down ideas for novels after waking up from strange dreams.

    Maybe inspiration doesn’t disappear.

    Maybe it just waits until we’re paying attention again.

    ❤️ This Week’s Gratitude

    I’m grateful my niece was okay.

    I’m grateful my little guy at work caught the ball and threw it back to me. It sounds like such a small thing, but for him, it was huge.

    I’m grateful for tiny milestones—whether it’s hearing my oldest nephew proudly say, “I want my bibi,” or watching another child take his first lunch outside.

    And I’m grateful that I finally found a series I can’t wait to keep writing.

    😂 This Week’s “Well…That Happened.”

    I somehow ended up having a serious conversation about cannibalism.

    I learned I apparently know far too much about the subject.

    I also accidentally corrected someone’s classification of human meat…

    …and they stopped texting me shortly after.

    I’m choosing to believe they just got busy.

    🌱 This Week’s Small Joy

    Feeding a squirrel out of my hand.

    She was tiny.

    She was brave.

    And she absolutely made my day.

    Here’s to another week.

    Hopefully one with fewer hiccups, fewer hospital visits, and fewer conversations where I accidentally sound like I belong on an FBI watchlist.

    Until next time,

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s one unexpected thing that made you smile this week? I’d love to hear it.