I joined Instagram. The link is here. I thought that it could be a way to interact with the larger world and help me to focus on ... something outside myself. I am not so much wanting to pursue advocacy about chronic illness, but I thought I could share some of my journey with invisible illness. And I could combine that with my love of photography. Although ... I don't think much of my photos. They certainly do not rise to the level of being photography.
And I already have a couple of followers! I actually have more than two, but one of the others is a friend and the rest seem to be businesses and/or gurus in the chronic illness world. I am not sure why they would follow unless to get an idea from me. Hah! Think it will be slim pickings in that regard.
I actually got the idea from one of those Facebook challenges that is currently making the rounds. The idea is to post seven black and white photographs of your life. No titles or explanations. I didn't realize you are also not supposed to post photos of your children or your pets. I posted one of Amos, but he is more than a pet. And he is a large part of my life.
I think that my dear friend Becky did a much better job than I did on the challenge. She was more artistic and deep with her choices. I particularly loved the ones of her piano and the mantle clock. Of course, I might know a bit more of what those two represent than most do.
Anyway, I posted my black and white photos on Instagram, with a bit of an explanation and hashtags that fit what I was trying to show. I liked what I was able to share and felt like I do when, here, I can write what it is that I am trying to say. Such is rare. But, on Instagram, I can use a photo to take some of the burden of words.
In this post, I was emptying my dishwasher and was struck by how my top rack had changed, had turned into a portrait of sorts of how gastroparesis has changed more than just my body. I have a gazillion custard dishes and a gazillion glass storage containers.
The first I have because I have to primarily eat small meals. The second because I have to keep food as fresh as possible. Because the fresher your food is the less bacteria is growing on it and the greater chance it will digest more smoothly. Plastic is more porous than glass. Glass storage containers keep food fresher and keep it longer.
I have to worry about things like is my food fresh, but I also have to worry whether or not I have enough glass storage containers! This is partly because I run the dishwasher just once a week and partly because of the way that I cook. For example, I will poach two chicken breasts to get four servings of poached chicken. I will put each serving, whilst still warm, in a separate snapware glass container. I use the one-cup size. That way, there is no air added to the chicken from opening and closing the same container. And each container maintains a seal of sorts having been closed on the warm chicken. So, my poached chicken lasts longer, still tastes good, and doesn't set off malfunctions in my innards.
Of course I do wish I were an artist. I wish I could capture in a photo some of the depth of the challenge of being chronically ill. I'm sure an artist could have done a better job at capturing what I saw whilst I was piling up the glass ware. And yet I am not unpleased with my small effort.
I think it might be a good thing—for me at least—to add my voice to the Instagram world.
1 comment:
It's wonderful to hear that you're sharing more pictures. I think you take truly lovely pictures. Perhaps since you appreciate texture. :) AND I like the idea of you communicating more without needing to always search or type a lot. I mean, please DO continue to use words. :D Please DO continue to type, but you are so right that photographs can convey meaning very well.
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