actually, this leads me to a deeper insecurity that i have about myself – one that i don’t think i have ever really spoke of.

i’m afraid, that when push comes to shove, i don’t really have the passion or the energy for any of this. my photography has grown out of the requirements and the challenge imposed by the 365 day project. what is going to happen on january 1st when, like this blog, i find myself loving the idea of photography but lacking the requirement to get off my ass and shoot, process and post? will my photography become like this blog – nothing more than a romantic idea that’s grown stale out of neglect?

there are plenty of other examples of things that i have been passionate about while under some specific set of rules or other expectations – i can run every day when i’m training for a race, but without a race, i don’t run. i can do yoga 6 days a week for 40 days when i am part of a program, but i don’t go otherwise. i can take a photo every single day for a year, but what will happen when i’m not part of that 365 day project world anymore?

am i lazy? do i love the idea of creativity and art but lack the will to make it happen? or, is this real? can i find my own rhythm of creativity with photography and writing – one that will be fresh and vibrant and alive?

time will tell. the end of 365 days is right around the corner. i’m already thinking about a project for january which i hope will help me to transition from the rigors of daily self portraits to something more open and free.

in the meantime, lets just see if we can update this blog 3 times a week for the rest of the month.

ready. set.go.

and then i looked back at my own work and i asked the question: who would look at this and feel anything? would my work bring on a flood of emotion so strong that tears are the only outlet? would my work make something feel something that wasn’t there before?

i don’t think it would.

so then i ask why?

i have so much to learn.

when i posted this photo to flickr, i mentioned that i may write a blog post about it. i thought about it all day and decided to go ahead with the post, although its pretty personal and difficult to put into words.

this photograph is about depression – which is something that i struggle with. it sneaks up on me from time to time. and now is one of those times.

the sadness – it climbs over me – suffocating. it blocks out the light. and, that’s what i was trying to convey with this photograph. that sense of something washing over you while you fight against it. you squirm. you tug. you beg to be released because all you want is to feel joy for yourself and for others.

i know exactly what is causing this particular episode. i know that it is temporary. but at this very moment, its just a battle. that heaviness is pressing down and i am using everything i have to push it back. and, everyday, when this cloak comes over me, i say thanks for the love that i have in my life from my husband and from my family and friends. and everyday, when this cloak comes over me, i say thanks for the one thing that gives voice to everything that’s pushed down inside – and that’s my art.

and, maybe tomorrow, i’ll break free.

Have a dream, make a plan, go for it. You’ll get there. I promise.

~ Zoe Koplowitz, runner

I look back at the past month and try to see where it is that I have been.  There have been some definite highlights -seeing Dave Matthews at the Gorge,  going on a trip to NYC and meeting new friends, celebrating my birthday.  But, those are concrete events that don’t really account for the lack of updates. What keeps me from coming here everyday and sharing my life is darker.  Its the sadness that comes from being in limbo. There are things that I am working towards, but they are things that don’t happen overnight. I have to wait. I have to be patient. But, as the days go by I feel suffocated by the waiting. I feel overwhelmed by the list of things that I want to be doing that I cannot do. I feel oppressed by the things that I must do that I absolutely hate doing. I know that this is temporary. I know that, soon, I will be where I want to be.

In the meantime, I wait.

Apparently, I wait quietly.

Thalassa

Yesterday was a foggy morning and I took advantage of the opportunity to go to the lake and do a shoot inspired by Limnades, the fresh-water nymph. I was lucky with the fog because it meant I had very little editing to do to realize my vision for this shot. I wanted to portray a sense of seeing the Limnades while she is going about her usual day. I shot from far away and selected the image that was the most obscured by fog. I applied a texture over the image to give it a more rough appearance and was basically done. The hardest part was picking which photo to use – as I had several that I really liked. I went back and forth for hours and spent alot of time making minor adjustments to the crop and tones.

Here’s the before and after.

Limnades - before my edits

Limnades - after my edits

It was great getting to spend some time with them both. Both woman have lived to see the world change dramatically, both on a large scale and within their own personal sphere.  They have been wives, mothers and widows. And, can you imagine the technological changes alone? It boggles my mind to think about what it must have been like to witness the kind of change that they have witnessed. How bewildering today’s world must seem, at times. It makes me wonder what the world will be like when I am their age.

We don’t see our grandmas very often and I know that this could very well be the last time that we see them. I have felt especially compelled to use my camera to capture moments with them, knowing that there will come a time when those memories will be real treasures. Of course we can always keep people in our minds and in our hearts, but to be able to look at a photograph and remember things like the shape of their mouth, the wrinkles of their hand or the way that their eyes squinted when they smiled – well, you can’t put a price on that. In many ways,  I see it as both a responsibility and a privilege to capture and preserve it.  And, when I look at these photos, I am just grateful that I have the ability…

Grandma Carmen

Grandma Miriam

My grandma (Carmen) loves to play dominoes.

When in doubt, when in fear, be aggressive. Commit yourself and never look back.