Chased moments

Blogging, apart from being lots of fun, also has some serious drawbacks. One is the 'finding the blog moment' pressure it builds into my day. Some days there are clearly too many blog-moments, and I have to make impossible choices on which to post, and some days there are seemingly no blog-moments, so I have to make them up and hope 'reality' is not what you're after. And sometimes, the moment is there, and I am there, and it still goes all wrong...

... because 'someone' forgot to change the lens in Marc's camera, as in 'Isabelle is wearing the pretty hat her maman knitted for her'...


... or because 'someone' just won't stop moving, as in 'Isabelle found a penguin clip on the floor of the Reform shop (I figure they have only biological dirt on that floor so it's ok) and she is wearing her first head-ornament'...


... or, like today, because at the very moment I was going to click, Isabelle hit her nose on my forehead with such violence that we were both stunned for at least a minute before simultaneously starting to cry. Which must have been a hilarious moment for anyone standing in the room, but of course there was no such person (where are people when you need them?) as we were at the time sitting under the blankets on our big bed, playing 'hutje in het donker' (little house in the dark), so as we started wailing we must have looked like a flowered blue mountain in agony (aria in E minor for Soprano and Alto).

Anyway, the point of this winding pathlet is that instead of worrying about the pain, hers or mine, I was thinking 'this is a great photograph, why isn't anyone taking it?'

Am greatly worried now about seemingly inevitable callousness of artistic endeavour...