Knotted and scarred.
Rooted deeply but ever reaching.
Belonging, as a tree does.
Knotted and scarred.
Rooted deeply but ever reaching.
Belonging, as a tree does.
Letters swallow themselves in seconds.
Notes friends tied to the doorknob,
transparent scarlet paper,
sizzle like moth wings,
marry the air.
So much of any year is flammable,
lists of vegetables, partial poems.
Orange swirling flame of days,
so little is a stone.
Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,
an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.
I begin again with the smallest numbers.
Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,
only the things I didn’t do
crackle after the blazing dies.
the Galvanized woman
who sees it all, spread before her,
the necessary intuition,
the overwhelm that comes from being
unable to compartmentalize.
Galvanized woman
who moves to find her heart beat in anything,
in ultrasound focus.
oh the inconsistencies, oh the insecurities.
Inscrutable nothing.
Inscrutable everything.
Making the most of a modest amount of accumulation, our youngest still maintains the can-do spirit around the cold, excited for even the lighter of dustings. Plus, she didn’t have school today. Nothing to be mad about here.
I’m trying to be better about catching family moments, instead of just creating artful representations around our goings on.
My, how the turn tables… years ago my goal was to see things differently, share things differently. The big hope was to create art, less personal to our family, but more universal, around nature, life, and belonging. This goal has been firmly accomplished and solidified.. I’m proud of the work, happy to convey the mystical around this world of ours. BUT.. in a striving for balance, I do hope I can also photograph moments for what they are this year.
And, so, this is our almost nine year old, on the cusp of adolescence, seen from the porch, working the hill with a vintage Radio Flyer. She’s loving every minute of it, despite the lack of detail and monochrome edit.
As many people know, I got my start in a high school darkroom. Something magic unfolded in those chemicals. I would leave 2nd period with my hands smelling like sulfur, and pupils dilated from 90 minutes in the dark. A good student, I flowed between subjects, english, french, chemistry, and calculus, conforming to whatever in the journey of getting an A (well, not in calculus, that was a bit of a disaster). Photography was a true outlet, a place to explore the concept of artistic voice. I found ways out of other classes, phoning in responsibilities to get back in the darkroom.. it may have been my first true act of rebellion in a system I’d been in full compliance with.
Exploration kept me engaged. But over the years, I’ve been frustrated by freelance work, not sure how to stand out in crowds of talented creatives and professionals. To be real for a minute, the business end of photography hasn’t been natural.. My most recent venture in the world of boutique school portraits comes close. How I feel watching a kiddo be relaxed in front of the camera has rekindled my efforts for client work. Each student presents a new connection, an opportunity to be curious, exercise my silly streak, and offer a fun alternative to the assembly line of portraits we all knew as kids.
And then, there’s my art. The images I shoot in an effort to connect or find meaning in.. ***gestures at everything*** Life is all the experience, both positive and negative. I don’t have to tell you it can feel overwhelming to be human. It’s easy to hop into dread and anxiousness with the modern set of problems we face. This chaos feels like too much to find order in, even though we humans have been performing this stunt a long time.
My personal mantras as I’ve navigated purpose, meaning, my roles as a partner, mom, and photographer are these: as long as we have breath, there is possibility, and inherent to life, there is an ultimate sense of balance. The act of equilibrium is real. There will be highs for every low, and vice versa. We may not see the entire set up or what lies on either side of the scale. But we can rest assured it exists.
Photography is the ultimate medium of possibility, balance, or flux. Each photo excursion brings an opportunity to witness this spectrum of life, or even create within it. I love that. As an artist, finding comfort in possibility, rather than fear, is something I hope to keep sharing with the world.
I’m taking off next week to photograph new spaces and places, so it’ll be quiet here. Last time my family planned this we were thwarted by sickness. We’ve decided as a collective that NOTHING is getting in the way this time. I’ll be back at the end of August with hopefully more images to share, and maybe less words.. I don’t know! But one thing’s for sure, I’m pretty excited at the possibilities next week will afford 🤠
Something different for you today, kiddos! Enjoy :-)
The year was 2020, the time was covid.. I had just pulled myself out of some rough mental places in 2019, juggling two young girls, attempting a photography business, and dealing with unresolved postpartum and life issues. The world experienced a series of unprecedented events, one right after another, leaving us all collectively grasping for any sense of normal in a mess of germs and hatred.
My own reaching found 52 Frames. An online community for photographers, who took on weekly prompts to learn, meet other creatives, and try new techniques. Members ran the gamut of seasoned professionals, to grandmas with iPhones. I loved the diversity in perspectives and experience in a space that kept my craft close while the world sorted itself out. So in 2021, I jumped in. It was a great place for creative accountability. With each week’s new submission, the photo streak number increased, you didn’t quit! Wahoo for a good metric!
Before I knew it, I had completed a full year of 52 images, well on my way to developing an artistic style from the weekly practice. It was a struggle, but it continued to feel something akin to the high you get after running a race. Hard, but happy in hindsight. Another year began, I started to grow confidence in myself as an artist, posting elsewhere on places like IG and Glass. My exposure to other creatives outside of 52 Frames increased. I started meeting these communities in real life, making friends, learning, and being inspired.
Fast forward to 2024.. the world is changed, my kids have grown, and with them, responsibilities outside of creative photography. My client work, while slow, is expanding. Free time for creative expression is harder and harder to come by. Kid activities are demanding more travel time. Our garden/property responsibilities aren’t shrinking either. Many things to prioritize.
And so, last week, after 188 consecutive weeks I said goodbye to the practice.
Did I take my commitment to the whole endeavor too seriously? Yes, yes I did! But I’m massively grateful. So many of the images you see on this blog are directly and indirectly related to time contributing and learning from the platform. I’m happy I kept going, incredibly thankful for all the ideas I now have, and the skills I’ve cultivated. There were and are constraints, but 52 Frames helped me see those as a tool, and not a burden.. well, at least some of the time ;-)
The community is absolutely lovely as well. I could go on and on there, but I’ve already rambled enough. If any of you are reading, thank you so much, for all the time and care and kindness you’ve shown (the internet doesn’t have to be a bad place)!
⚡In summation⚡ if you’re looking for creative resistance training, or help on the journey to finding your “why” with photography, I cannot recommend 52 Frames enough.
On the schedule for tomorrow, less talk, more image! Thanks for reading!
Have you brought forth anything into the world lately? A dramatic question 😆 but come on, what did you expect?
One of my photographs was mentioned on a podcast a while back, and Jason ended with suggesting that the photo inspired him to ask the question- what could he make? What would his own self-portrait be like? It was the kind of question that made me really happy… the idea that our act of creation can beget curiosity, one of human kind’s great attributes.
The world feels like a distracted, destructive, consumptive mess. Inspiring work, ideas, kindness, connection is a direct rebellion of this tangle. It’s a rebellion I can get behind, and hope to continue being a part of. Thanks so much to the 3x2 podcast for the feature.
Pretending I was
Across the sky
Riding clouds of thunder
Till the weight of collected burdens
Dropped me.
And I on the ground,
No longer light
But clinging wet and heavy to the earth
Till time separated me and
I was light Enough
to rise and pretend again.
Hi,
I’m off next week to hopefully find fresh scenes and a fresh perspective. My girls just wrapped up the school year, and a little extra space and time to transition into summer is what I’m taking. I’m sure I’ll be shooting photos and resisting the urge to post them all.
Have a great weekend and subsequent week!
For [you] the sun shines; for [me] the moon and the stars. -Hermann Hesse
Dreams and dreams only.
Hold me to some sort of formulaic space
A fluidity contained and moving, but not evaporated.
I don’t like the air. I won’t go.
A palm tree in Florida, on our 1 year wedding anniversary.
Ending with this one because I see glimpses of my current photography style just making their debut. At the time, I didn’t feel super creative, but we all have to learn where to tell our inner critics to go, don’t we?
Hope you’ve enjoyed the visual archive this week, thanks for traveling with me🫶🏻
Somewhere in North Carolina, 2011
Appalachia.
Will there be bugs?
Will there be humidity?
Will there be gorgeous views, lines, curves predating us humans?
You betcha.
Dear Reader,
There’s nothing quite like NYC at New Years. Add staying at a friend’s empty apartment in the East Village, your partner gifting you Phantom of the Opera tickets, listening, nay, feeling, music at the Vanguard, plus a sprinkling of interesting subway rides, and you’ve got yourself a great way to ring in 2012. This post is practically oozing with nostalgia for me..
the sounds,
the smells (maybe not),
the protests!
Yours truly,
Insufferable in 4:6 😉
Was it even New York, did you even go, if you didn’t take this picture?
“..to slip again over my faculties the viewless fetters of an uniform and too still existence..”
-Charlotte Brontë
Things taking time
to be what they will,
Ideas forming along
state change lines.
Does this death feel more illusionary
Since feeling and love and promise
spring forth from what’s left of it?
Sometimes an image captures a feeling so much better than anything I could write. Today is one of those times. All the best this week, friends!
Morning came on. A symphony.
Nothing, then notions, the faintest hint of sound,
and before we realized it,
a song forte
played for all who were awake to hear and see.
The sharpness that comes with a soft sunrise.
Another day of decision, perspective, consequence.