Aiming Low

You could pay hundreds of dollars to attend professional workshops.

You could buy cameras, lenses, and filters, oh my!

You could go to the library and check out books gallore that will get you in the know as far as certain settings and techniques are concerned.

You could read and watch tutorials, up the wazoo, on Youtube.

But, you will never take better pictures without practice.

That being said, there’s a super simple way that you can help develop your eye.  It’s gonna take a little work and dedication, but –believe me– if I can do it, anyone can!

Here’s what you do:

1. Get a camera (it doesn’t have to be anything fancy; a simple point-and-shoot will do.)
2. Take pictures with said camera every day for a whole year.
3. Share your “Project 365″ with friends and family (Flickr, Facebook, blog, what-have-you.)
4. Develop your own eye and enjoy the growth you will experience through this simple project.

(Days 1-25 of my Project 365 Meets 2010)

* * * * *

I hear people say stuff like: I just can’t do it, or I tried and I failed, or It’s too much work.

Let me tell you:  You can do it!  If you tried and failed, dammit, try again!  It’s not too much work!

CLICK. One. Click. A. Day.

If you are participating in a Project 365 this year, would you please let us know in the comment section?  I’d love to see what you are capturing in this new decade of life, and will add you to the links below to share with all our lovely Aiming Low readers!

Secret Agent Mama’s Project 365 meets 2010 | My ‘07/08 Self Portrait 365 |  365 in 2010 by Maria |

So, behind the scenes at Aiming Low, we have a whole lot of awesome brewing, and we can’t wait to unveil it, as it’s been months in the making, and we don’t have a lick of patience.  But, until we can (read: OMG so super soon), we wanted share this with you…

1.  TODAY is the LAST day to vote in our first annual Aiming Low Back Burner Recipe Contest.  VOTE NOW!

2.  Aiming Low has been nominated for an About.com Reader’s Choice Award 2010 in the Parenting Catagory, we would LOVE to have your vote!

3.  Wanna hang out at BlogHer and discuss with us the Aiming Low philosophy?  Vote for the Aiming Low Room of Your Own by clicking that you will attend our session!

Thank you for being a part of our site, and stayed tuned, very soon, wonderful things will be happening!

This just makes me want to park in this space that much more:

But you see, I can’t  – I can’t because I drive an enormous car. A huge SUV. A monster gas-guzzler that could literally crush any fuel efficient vehicle in its path. I know this, not only due to the laws of physics, but also because I recently witnessed a car accident in Bridgehampton where a buzzing little bee of a low emissions car pulled out of a space on 27 West and rammed directly into an SUV that was minding its own business… just driving along… The SUV remained unscathed while the weenie of an environmentally acceptable car had it’s hood up over the roof, lost front bumper and two front tires rolling down the street… Air bags popping all over the place. The driver was fine, a few bruises, but whoa. We were walking on the sidewalk when this happened right in front of us… I froze for a second, then grabbed my son and ran back to our SUV – - Yikes. What if another tiny car was to pull out of somewhere… And please get me out of there before the traffic reaches murderous levels. Witness? What? I didn’t see anything Officer… please move your little car… just, just GO!!!

[...]

To my children,

There’s been a lot of talk lately about us moms being “bad” or “Type B” which I take to mean that we aren’t fitting into what society has tried to feed us as the New Rules of Mothering. Instead, we may let you watch too much TV, eat sugary cereal, jump on the couches, go outside without the right coat, pick your nose, or draw all over your body with magic marker, all in an attempt to eke out a little “me” time to work, meditate, watch Oprah, sneak cookies or whatever.

And, while I can’t speak for everyone, I think I’m getting good results for my less-than-perfect effort. You guys are good kids, even with my lack of patience, short attention span, intermittent distractedness, and penchant for using electronics to buy myself some time alone.

I know I could do some things to be a better mom, but this isn’t a one-way street kiddos: you could step up your game too. In other words, if you want your mom to become that Perfect Specimen of Motherhood, you’re going to have to make some changes too.

[...]

I am writing this post from my death bed. Or, I may just have the flu. Haven’t sorted that out yet.

We went to the No Doubt concert last night, after about a month of steadily building excitement about hearing Gwen Stefani live. My friends and family came from all over, and there was a lot of planning going on between us on facebook. Since everyone was meeting up at my house and then going over to the venue, I decided to stop off at BevMo and get some soda. OK, and beer. Complimenting the wine, sangria and mixers that also fell into my cart. Don’t judge me.

When I checked out at the register… are you listening, readers reader? I got carded! Despite the fact that TheLittles andTheTween were crawling all over me at the time. When I couldn’t find my license right away, I said, “but I’m forty!” and a cranky grampa in line behind me said suspiciously, “She looks 17 to me.” Yeah, because when I was 17 I used to crash the discount liquor stores at 11am with some rent-a-kids in tow.

I found my license, all was well, we got into the car, andTheTween proceeded to tell me that I should think it was cool that I got carded. I didn’t. I had to rush home and clean the house to the point of erasing our very existence, because that’s what I do when we have people over.

[...]

About ten years ago, I was obsessed with home remodeling shows.  It was so 2000, but it was all the rage.   Cliche as it was, I enjoyed me some Trading Spaces.  I even applied to the show although my neighbor at the time said she wouldn’t do it if  Hilde or Doug would be doing her room.   I told her to shut her trap and deal with it- I wanted my 15 minutes of fame and a cheaply remodeled room decorated in poor taste.

My favorite designer was Doug Wilson (not to be confused the with awesome pothead character played by Kevin Nealon on Weed’s- but just as loveable and, likely, high at times, also.)

He was such a shit disturber. If the homeowner hated red, he’d paint the room red.  If the homeowner pleaded NOT to take out their brand new carpet- the carpet was definitely gone!    He once did a bedroom styled after a prison cell- complete with a ‘toilet’ bench.  Or there was the time when he hired nude models so they could trace their silouhette on the wall from a projector.   Or when he found a secret boudoir photo that a wife had done for her husband and BLEW IT UP and put it over the fireplace!

Dude had balls! [...]

Okay, so, yes, I have been living with my parents for *gasp* 6 months now and I haven’t really talked about it much. Well, I haven’t really talked about it online. I have spent a lot of time discussing with my sister, or the husband, or, um, strangers on the street. But, well, it’s going…

WEIRD.

To be honest, I had an entire post planned about how this year has not been AT ALL how I expected. A post about how I guess I had assumed this would be an opportunity for my parents to spend some time with the kids. Because I don’t know if you know this, but we live in CANADA. And we really only saw my parents 3 or 4 times a year, and they only came up to Toronto once a year, if that. I just thought that they’d take advantage of really getting to KNOW the children. I thought they would offer to babysit (um, at least once…which hadn’t happened). I thought they would do things like take them out for ice cream (um, at least once…which hadn’t happened). I thought they would do things like join us on a Sunday at the zoo/museum/park (um, at least once…which hadn’t happened). I thought they would come to school presentations or grandparents day or VIP days (um, at least once…which hadn’t happened). I thought they would spoil them (um, at least once…which hadn’t happened).

But then, this past week happened.

[...]

I worry about two things when it comes to my children – a car hitting them and a predator snatching them. These two things keep me awake at night, more so than teenage pregnancy or drugs, or a whole host of other pitfalls and obstacles that I hope they never face. As a mother, thinking about these things can become an obsession even though you take all the precautions in the world to avoid the boogeyman.

It never crossed my mind that I could be the boogeyman to some other family. I’ve just been living my life, carrying on, doing what I do, protecting my own. But I was an accident waiting to happen. [...]

So my husband and I moved to Missouri 5 years ago. We have lived in 4 different dwellings, one apartment, one townhouse, one duplex and now our very first house.

Clearly I am not easily satisfied with living arrangements but that’s a story for another day.

Now some folks absolutely hate moving but for me it’s an adventure. I actually like it. One of the funnest parts of moving for me is getting the previous owners’ junk mail.

What?

I know, just follow along, trust me.

You see when people move they usually change the address of their bills and then do a general forwarding of everything else and change addresses as they get things. Now the post office will usually only forward for 6 months or so. After that 6 months is when the fun begins.

I would like to share with you my most recent junk mail. [...]

My husband Graham and I had just decided to head out to get a few groceries when my stomach began to growl.

“You wanna go out for some lunch before we get the groceries?” I asked. I hate to shop on an empty stomach. Doing so usually results in a shopping cart filled with impulse purchases like cookies, ice cream and that $27 brick of parmesan cheese.

He agreed and we were on our way. We brought our two month old son, Nathan with us, and sat him right in his carseat on top of the restaurant table. Nate slept through most of lunch, and when his slumber turned into mere doziness, we covered the carseat with a blanket to keep the bright restaurant lights out of his eyes.

When we were finished our lunch it was time to pay the bill. I stood up and dug through my wallet to find my debit card.

“You want to go and pay the bill while I go to the bathroom?” Graham asked. [...]