So, recently I had the opportunity to take a photography workshop with the wonderfully talented and beautifully generous DeAnna McCasland. She has a special eye for turning the routine parts of our life into beautiful memories of our time together. One of the things I think about daily that we discussed in our group was the idea of the ever-elusive “perfect” image, and how perfect really can only be seen in what we hold dear to us. For me, it is these memories of my baby growing up, the small, everyday details of him, me and us together as a family–his quirky personality, the fire in his eyes, his wild hair, his affinity for the top of the table and his many “hats.” These images may not be technically perfect, but they are perfect to me, because through them, I can see the true him–his wild spirit and gentle soul. I’m holding on dearly to this idea of the imperfectly perfect. This will be a sentiment I refer back to often, partly to share this profoundly simple, and imperative thought, but also as a reminder to myself to keep focus on what is true to me, as his mother and as the documentarian (is this a real word? If not, it is now) of his life. If you haven’t had a chance to enjoy DeAnna’s work, go take a peek (http://deannamccasland.com)…She has an amazing way of capturing the happiness, innocence and truth of childhood and family. Here are a few of my favorites from our three short weeks together. Don’t worry, there will be more to come.