Carolyn Emily Photography Fine Art Photography Nashville Tennessee 52 Weeks Project

1/52, "Wait No More"

I stood on the edge
waiting for the future
to create itself
weaving my dreams
into a reality
and i waited
and waited
and waited..

watching my dreams
fly past my eyes
like a fire igniting in the
hearth of a home in winter
the smoke flying
into the skies
never to be seen again
in this life

in the midst of snuffing
out the embers of my dreams
a flicker of dawn came over the hills

and I reached forward
grabbing a hold of my future,
choosing to
wait no more

// 1/52, "Wait No More"

A number of years ago, I fell in love with photography. I dove into it head-first, teaching myself how to use a camera, photoshop, and the art of self-portraiture. I completed a 365 project on Flickr where I took a photograph everyday for a year. Some of which I was proud of, other photographs I was not. But that project created a diary for me, a way to get away from the reality of the world and create a world of my own.

I would run through the fields and rain with my camera, walk through the snow barefoot, and occasionally get cut by thistles. It was the greatest adventure and something that made me feel completely myself. 

Since that project, my art steadily changed. I stopped using it as a personal outlet and have been feeling a pull to become inspired again with my artwork. I have had some incredible clients over the past couple years and can't thank you all enough for your support and trust in me as I've documented some amazing moments in your lives. While I'm still booking weddings and portraits in 2018, I have chosen to only book a very limited number of local weddings/sessions so that I can focus on once again finding that passion for this craft that God placed in my soul.

I hope that you'll follow along as I share a photo each week and also share snippets of my writing and life. As always, thank you for sticking with me through my artistic journey!

 2/52, "Sun"  I walked into the room,  the sun dancing on the walls,  lines from the rays falling across my face. I glanced across to the shadows in front of me "what do I do now?" I heard the words echo in my mind  and I stood there.  The clouds moved aside and I saw the answer right there,  in the light

2/52, "Sun"

I walked into the room, 
the sun dancing on the walls, 
lines from the rays falling across my face.
I glanced across to the shadows in front of me
"what do I do now?"
I heard the words echo in my mind
and I stood there.

The clouds moved aside
and I saw the answer right there, 
in the light

 Carolyn Emily Photography Nashville Tennessee Photography 52 Weeks (1 of 1).jpg

3/52, "Nightmare"

The nightmare felt like a dream,
my mind filled with contrasted images of flames

and in this dream, I closed my eyes,
listening intently for the sirens that sounded far away,
their deafening melody lost in the depths of the sea of noise

No one pulled over to let the sounds of rescue
find their way to the scene of the crime

And the flames danced
like ballerinas in my head,
pirouetting along in my terror

And it was then,
in the music of the dance,
that I felt the truth of the matter

This dream wasn't real,
it was only a nightmare

So I stepped forward,
my feet touching the fire that was all around --

And then I woke up.

 Carolyn Emily Photography Nashville Tennessee Photography 52 Weeks

4/52, "She Dreamed"

She dreamed of places she wanted to go,
and her mind swirled like rain during a midsummer storm.
She dreamed of who she wanted to be,
and her thoughts wandered in confusing tidal waves
She dreamed of existing in a different time,
and her heart yearned like the edge of a hurricane -
just tapping its fingers, waiting for the calm.

 Carolyn Emily Photography Nashville Tennessee Photography 52 Weeks

5/52, "Look me in the eye"

Look me in the eye
Look straight at me
Look past the
"How are yous"
and "I'm goods"

Look past the shining screen
that yearns for your attention
Just look me in the eye
Look straight at me
And you'll see that
we're not really all that
different.

 Carolyn Emily Photography Nashville Tennessee Photography 52 Weeks

6/52, "The sky is always different"

Have you ever thought about it? The sky changes so quickly, it is never the same. Not one cloud in a place where it had been before. Have you ever thought about how we are never the same as we were yesterday? Our minds and being changing everyday? And why not just let it happen? We yearn for the past. We yearn for our childhood. We forget about today. We forget about right now.

 Carolyn Emily Photography Nashville Tennessee Photography Fine Art Prose Poetry

7/52, "If I'm being honest"

If I'm being honest, the news has never made me cry before. I have seen horrific things on the news and of course it has made me feel upset, angry, and sad, but I always somehow felt so separated and apart from it. 
I feel ashamed to say, but I would feel those sad feelings for a moment, and then I would somehow forget the images and move on, focusing on my own world. 
Yet, I haven't ever felt so much heartbreak than when I saw what happened at that Florida school. Watching those families talk about and grieve over their loss punctured my heart in a way that I've never felt before. It's nightmarish and suddenly I feel something fit together inside of me, like God is reaching in and putting the puzzle piece down that stitches together and completes a realization that this is real. This really happened. 
And maybe it'll be tomorrow, or the day after that, but the world will move on while those families are still reeling in their unanswered questions and hurt and pain. But I don't want that to happen. I want to truly remember what it felt like to cry into my pillow and finally really feel what God wanted me to feel. I want to see those names in my mind – people I've never even met – and feel the hurt I felt just a few hours ago. 
Even though it feels like this numb, fleeting world is drowning, there is light and hope for us yet, we just have to look for it, take hold of it, and give it freely and selflessly to everyone around us.

 Carolyn Emily Photography Nashville Tennessee Photography 52 Weeks Fine Art Photography Prose Poetry

8/52, "Bloom where you're planted"

"Bloom where you're planted"
I've heard that saying before. And while it's so easy to say, the words coming off your tongue like it's so simple. But, it's not. I've learned that the hard way. I've felt judged -- given weird looks when I try to do just that: bloom where I'm planted. Some people look down at me, as I try to grow where I'm at, instead of wishing for something more. There's always something else to wish for. There's always going to be that place you wanna go, or that person you wanna be. But you can dream, and you can wish, and you can want. But sometimes, you have to let it go and accept your current state of life, and just grow there. Just be there and let yourself grow.

 Carolyn Emily Hommes Photography Nashville Tennessee Photography Fine Art Prose Poetry

9/52, "Dad's Garden"

When I was younger, I always knew where to find my dad: in the garden. He was either weeding, watering the flowers, or preparing to plant them. He taught me so much about gardening and I can recall names of plants and facts that I wouldn't know if it weren't for my dad and his knowledge. 
My first year married, my dad helped me plant a garden of my own. However, on my first afternoon of weeding it, I somehow got covered in poison ivy. Needless to say, I let that ship sink, but I hope to try having a garden again when we have the yard for it.

 Carolyn Emily Hommes Photography Nashville Tennessee Photography Fine Art Prose Poetry

10/52, "The Rain"

I stood at the edge of the mountain and watched the darkening sky come close. The rain streamed down in cities that were miles away. Clouds moved quickly towards me, like a black curtain that wished to consume like smoke from a raging forest fire. My hair wrapped around my face like a net cast into the sea and right when my breath was stolen from my lungs, I looked up. The rain drops fell towards my pale face. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as the rain came down, instantly healing my chapped lips. The water covered me, washing away all the times I felt like an outline on a piece of paper, invisible. Or when I felt like a skeleton, completely void of everything that defined who I was. The rain soaked and drenched through my  cracked, parched skin, flowing closer to the darkness that consumed all warmth inside of my chest. It washed away all the times that I didn’t mean anything to you. All of the times when I was told I was loved, but it was a flat out lie. Every time I was foolish. Every time I was unarmed and defenseless. Every time I was trapped and held captive and I lost my way. I let the rain come down, falling at the edge of the mountain, washing it all away.