Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Senior Portrait Project: The Hidden Storm

Is it considered a portrait if ones face is not actually featured in the photo? Well, I guess I'll include a photo with the face of one caught in the act of creativity, the words, "how long have you been there?" about to grace my lips...

I often imagine what it would be like to jump into my photos and continue the story. To begin within the moment captured, but then to breath in the life of an untold, continuing story. To become the character that often has such an elusive face at the moment the photo is captured. To feel their heart's beat in my veins, the life they live inside my bones, the quests they go on or, perhaps, the simplistic lives I imagine they live. I wish for the poetry of their lives when I am feeling the darkness of this world.

I suppose indeed I do, in a sense, live their lives, but only in the fleeting moment of a camera's shutter. Yet I know that they live somewhere in the corners of my being, in my dreams, even roaming in a nightmare times. And so they do live. And I can only hope to bring a manifestation in photograph, to portray the metaphor of their beings in a solitary form.

Sometimes I do not succeed, and that's okay. Sometimes they never make it to the internet, and that's okay too. Those are hidden in a secret library of abstract thought, but they live, those little misfits. But if, through a photo that does grace my page, a fellow human sees even a hinting reflection of their soul, if they view a hidden storm within them, then I have succeeded.

My strange ending question for the day: do any of you creatives out there turn your heads when viewing your work, shifting it side to side and up and down? I suppose this is a technique better applied to, perhaps, a sculptor of things, rather than a photo- taker, but that did not stop me from using the maneuvers in attempts of maximum viewing capacity.

I wish you all an inspiring week!

Wednesday, March 9, 2016

I Survived.

Guys. I just deleted my original draft of this post. My gosh, the irritation. I tried very hard not to explode when I conducted a frustrated waltz around the living room, aggressively sipping my tea. Erg...

Well, I'll try to remember what my abstract writings were about.

There were many different difficulties in creating this photo. An ambiguous concept that was hastily written down the night before the shoot, not saying much other than the general pose, then I shot this on a very white background, knowing that I wanted to change that to a black backdrop later in Photoshop. The dress needed to be reconstructed, the blindfold needed major surgery, light sources had to be established (still not sure if that worked) and two photos I used were out of focus... so yeah, editing was just a joy.

But I don't see these things when I look at this image. I see hilarious moments of wrapping my friends head up in a slightly suffocating knot, then vigorously tossing the scarf around as we all giggled... "oh and you have to swing this lantern." I see the joy of having things work and slide into place while editing, after the beginning moments of how on earth am I supposed to do this subsided.

I see an accomplishment.

However, I also see the night of anxiety before the shoot, a struggle in the darkness within myself, the piercing doubt that lurked in my head. Yet despite this, there is a light that I see which is much greater than my fears. Good memories despite the twilight of my thoughts, friendship bound by trust that helped me walk down this obscure path that was this photo adventure, not knowing what I was doing or if the the path would lead anywhere... and this photo, this image that encapsulates such a strong juxtaposition that I have felt inside myself lately.

I hope to do more of these photo shoots. Honestly, this was one of the most rewarding shoots I have done. It was something really different for me, something that I wanted to do because I knew I had to. I knew that I needed to get over the fear of collaboration, the fear of the unknown that I struggle with so often, the poison of what I think a failure would be. I knew I needed to push myself. And... I made it.

Perhaps that is the greatest victory I find in this photo. I survived.


We all have our fears that blind us. But will you choose to follow the light?