This week

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FOX: I've discovered that every time you get a haircut I need to allow myself at least three days to mourn your curls. We have been lucky thus far, given a bit of time (and occasionally a bit of, cough.... moisturiser) they have always grown back. But it's not something I can count on so I just have to hold my breath and wait. God forbid you start looking more like a little boy than my curly-haired baby. That just wouldn't do.

LAMB: Moments before getting your ears pierced (and being your usual cheeky self). Stop. Growing. Up!

Recently....

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I'm sitting at home feeling pretty shitty, waiting for the children to come back from Nanny's house. I just finished watching The Talented Mr. Ripley for the first time (one from my movie bucket list). Suffice it to say, it didn't cheer me up much. So I thought I'd distract myself by throwing together some photos from the past few weeks or so. I've been enjoying my photo-taking and blogging hiatus (I've swapped the camera for a paintbrush and crochet hook) but to be honest, I'm still taking photos practically every day anyway. Just not with the intensity that I usually do it. That's how I am. All or nothing. If I'm going to do something I have to give it 110%, otherwise I may as well not do anything at all. Not only that, I expect myself to be perfect at whatever I do as well. Which is rather a tiring, vain and unrealistic way to live. But I'm working on it.

Taking a break

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Photography and I have been at odds with one-another over the past few weeks. Every time I look at my camera I just feel deflated. I think: 'What's the point? Everything has been done before. And whatever I do there is always someone out there who could do it so much better anyway.' The other day I was looking through some of photos I took while I was studying and I realised that I used to be a much better photographer. Which isn't fair, really. The subject matter, plus the reasons and motivations for taking the photos I took in uni couldn't be any more different from what I'm doing now. They are so far apart there is no point comparing them. But compare I do. I compare without even realising I'm doing it. And I do it constantly. I recognise that my negative thought patterns are blinding me to the fact that the whole reason I took on this project was simply to document. To record a precious, fleeting childhood not to make meaningful, poignant art. But I've also been through these episodes enough to recognise that this is just another one of my self-doubting phases. And that's it's not necessarily a bad thing either. Even if it feels like it is.

106/365

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106/365

Yes. He is wearing the same shirt as yesterday. But do you blame me?

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His face when I put on a pair of glasses and a silly voice and say "Hello. I'm Daddy". I wish I could be so easily amused.