Write fright

My outfit posts have been piling up and sitting in draft mode. I have like 17 posts just lingering in the queue, mementos of summer days and sartorial decisions gone by. I'm not sure why I've hesitated in publishing  -- I've been consistently taking photos everyday, but for some reason, I've been coming up short when it comes to writing the actual posts. Perhaps it's because I've been sitting in research classes all summer, and have been preoccupied with writing papers on methods and studies, that it's difficult to switch writing styles and be confident and definitive with publishing something that hasn't been copy-edited and fact-checked to pieces. Perhaps it's because in my free time, I'm tired of staring at long words and searching for meaning in research theories, that it's easier to pick up a camera and accept whatever truth I can find on the other side of the lens. Perhaps.

As I've evolved with my photography I've realized it's become more difficult for me, at least mentally, to improve my writing here. Sometimes I feel tempted to put up two ill-punctuated lines of lowercase ramblings and emoticons and just call it a day. Staring at the fruit of my self-photography efforts sometimes is overwhelming, how many hours of blog photography can yield just a handful of photos. And yet I keep trying.

Of course, it sounds like such a navel-gazing luxury to have the time and opportunity to wax and wane on a hobby I profess to love. I feel like any sort of hand-wringing over it seems a bit silly and overdone (not to say that I haven't done it before, though). But often it is eye-opening to take a moment and see how things have evolved as I forge ever onward with my camera, my dear friend who understands me at the end of a long day.

credits: blouse - loft | shorts - walmart | shoes - born crown | sunglasses - forever 21 | bag - fossil, thrifted.

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