Senior Portrait Project: Take Me Away.

I have been staring at a computer for too long today. Website research (?!), attempts at writing, editing photos. I can feel the restlessness creep into my being. A need to get up and do something. Irritation at everything is crawling just under my skin.  Yet here I am, trying to write a blog post that has been sitting in my draft box for days...

So here we go. Lord of The Rings music, beverage in hand, wonderful sunlight streaming through the window on this springish day. I can do this.

 I decided to do something a little different for my senior portrait project that I have started. Rather than creating ambiguous characters to be a part of a story or convey a point, I would create how I actually see myself at this age. And so this photo was created to begin that journey. A simple portrait, crafted from how I feel when I get lost in a book, when I forget that I'm reading printed ink on paper, and just let my heart fly away between the pages.

I also see in this photo (and maybe I am the only strange person who sees it) a beginning of adventures, and that is exactly how I feel as this stage in my life is ending and a new one approaches. I know where I am now and I know the One who sees my path clearly, always encouraging me to go on, always knowing exactly what's ahead of me.

And that's all I really need.

 More to come of this fanciful world I live in. Now excuse me as I go detox from technology.

If you could live between the pages of any book, which one would you choose?

Proverbs 16:3

Commit your works to the Lord,
And your thoughts will be established.

From Sketch to Photo

I decided, very much on a whim, that I would do a little behind the scenes post with this photo, all the way from conceptual "sketch" (a horrible rendition of that word) to final image. I have always enjoyed looking at these "revealing of secrets" posts with any form of production whether it be films, paintings, musicals, or heavily edited photos... almost to the extent of liking them more than the final productions. I suppose this could be because I have such a connection to the experiences of things, the journey involved with any great conquering.

So, the beginning. I start the creation of my photos with my beloved idea book and a pencil, scribbling down the things from my inner world, sometimes feeling as if I'm bleeding myself onto the paper. These crazy ideas are usually accompanied by a terrible attempt at a sketch (of which I'm not sure you can clearly see in the photo above.... which I'm totally okay with) and a little description that is more of a reference point for me as I set out to create each photo than it is any sort of help to a model. Often times the photo is slightly or completely different from the sketch anyways. The sketch on the right is the start of the idea for the final image.
 Also pictured is all the other things that are obvious essentials in the creations process, as in my glorious cup of peppermint tea that is currently fogging up my new glasses as I write this (my gosh I had no idea the struggle was so real) and a candle burning at all times, this specific one smells of pine... However I burned it so relentlessly when I devoured the Lord of the Rings books last year, that now every time I smell it I am reminded of places I have never been and I honestly think it will become a family heirloom... it will not surprise me if I chase my kids around screaming CHILDREN, YOU MUST COME AND SMELL THE PRANCING PONY AND GONDOR!
  It is...precious to me, and I will not burn it anymore because I can not allow the smell of middle earth to leave me.

Okay, back to the photo.

Every image I create needs a base photo and this was the image I built from to get to the final creation, adding two other images to make a square frame at the end. Not sure why I have started deeming it the base photo, but really once you add tons of layers on top of one image in Photoshop, it does become the base of the photo. The start of the editing journey.

Derp faced dress fluffer at work. Also, my friend here was a trooper, dealing with my attempts at communication, laughing with me as I maneuvered the self timer (a strange acrobatic experience), struggled through the nature, and at one point agreeing to have her head rapped in a scarf while "levitating." We'll see if that photo ever gets to the blog here, but it is still in the works at the moment. I was quite excited and nervous to work with someone besides myself or my sister as a character in a fine art portrait. But if I could trust anyone to go along with my ideas, to allow me to be clueless if it would actually work or not, to join me on an adventure in my world, it would definitely be her.

Believe it or not, this was the photo I used for the flowing hair. Lots and lots of shifting and stretching happened in post processing. And yes she is in a different dress... I was horribly indecisive. Also, if you need a hair flipper who can sometimes nail the timing with the camera timer, call me.

And so, the final image. The end of the creation journey.  I think the thing that most excites me about this image is that actually worked. I tried something new, had no idea if it would work, and in the end, my imagination was made into something tangible, and that is the greatest goal I can ever achieve with the photos I create.
There are so many things I see in this image, but for now, I will let you read what you will in it's story, for I am already lost in it's many pages.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
And lean not on your own understanding;

In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He shall direct your paths

Proverbs 3:5-6

Success In The Process

This image has been such a big frustration in my life for the past month that if the process of editing a photo could be compared to sculpting a rock, then with every chip and curve I tried to make against this hard stone, it just did not bend to my will.

It took me nineteen clicks of the save button to get this final image and this is my ninth attempt to write a blog post to go along with it.

I must say that there were times that I just wanted to throw this rock out the window. My sanity can only be attributed to the many cups of tea that got me through to the end.

With all this resentment, the temptation was very strong not share this photo, but I decided to post it anyway because it is actually quite special to me, even with it not being my best work and all the frustrations that surround it. I won't call this a failure, contrary to my first opinion of it, because I actually think it looks alright, but not great (*note* I am staring at this sentence and it does not sound grammatically correct to me at the moment, perhaps I have been staring at a screen too much, but I have tried to write this post for too long so I'm just going to keep going).

I am determined to view this photo as a success because that which was completely irritating turned into an experience that I certainly benefited from. I know that I will look back on this photo with satisfaction because I worked through it and created something that is an extension of my imagination.

Something that I must often remind my self of, and something that I have been thinking about as I look at this image, is that failures can become something we learn from, experiences we can appreciate because they pushed us forward, and I am learning that failures, even when it is accompanied by frustration, are certainly something that I should not fear and with it comes the gift of humility if you accept it.

Let your failures live, not to tear you down, but to encourage you to keep trying. They are, after all, our greatest lessons.

And never ever give up. 

Christmas Time Is Here

  Hello December!

Yes guys, we have made it to this wonderful time of year. Festive happiness and music echos throughout my decked out halls and oh the Christmas tree glows with lights around its lovely branches. The nights are silent and holy indeed, as we celebrate the coming of Emmanuel, God with us, on that first noel. Like the night of our dear Saviors birth in the little town of Bethlehem, silent stars go by as the nights deepen in length and wintry chill.

Or maybe that's just Jack Frost nipping at my nose.

But even as it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, I do not see a white Christmas yet to come, considering that past Christmases have only been frightful at times, but never snowy, just like it is every year. Except for that freak winter in 1999... Yet I will still gather all ye faithful and sing hearty carols of let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...please? I'll let you know if we are joyful and triumphant, but I still doubt that folks will dress up like Eskimos this year, bah humbug. 

Well, that was fun. 

As I write this rather festive post, and Vince Guaraldi's A Charlie Brown Christmas is softly filling me with festive cheer, I look outside and wonder what it would be like to see snow gently release from dense clouds to glide through chilled air and blanket a town in white. There has always been a very early childhood image that comes to my mind when I think of Christmas and winter: a lane stretching long and far filled with cozy Christmas shops and lights strung from shop to shop, illuminating the streets in dappled pools of festive light, and everything is covered in snow.

But this is not to be in my town. I guess I can't miss what I have not experienced, but really, wishing for a fantasy and receiving a reality instead can induce a similar emotion of longing, even if that longing is just a thought of what could be. This only means that my winter wonderland is special in it's own way. Family traditions of Christmas movies with a log on the fire, caroling out in the, uh, maybe cold weather with close friends, church productions, listening to Christmas music non stop, tea and coffee, and lots of candles. All will be merry and bright no matter what the weather is outside, for it is what's on the inside that counts. 

This unfulfilled idea does not damper my spirit in the least, but has propelled my desire to create that which I have only dreamed into a reality, to let my imagination pour into something tangible, even if it is simply adding snow to an image. So, in the middle of June this year, I looked at this image in a new light and brought this fanciful thought of snow in my little town of Bakersfield to life. Yet with this idea brought to life, it can never replace the special Christmas that I have.

Merry Christmas everybody!

It Finally Feels Like Autumn

  Autumn. What a beautiful season this is.
  I don't have any special photo to share in this post, just a simple leaf. A little leaf hanging on to the branch it grew up on, clinging to it's relatives of the same bough. I can imagine it gazing down on it's dead kin laying upon the soft earth below, trembling with dread for the inevitable end it has been traveling to all summer, the same end this little leaf has witnessed others meet throughout the Autumn season. Maybe this is the sound we hear when the wind passes through the branches of trees. Perhaps the wind it just a silent exhale from mountains far away and all we hear are the hushed screams of desperation drift through the air as the leaves are snatched away from their life on the arms of their tree and descend to the ground in their coats of Autumn hues. 
  Could this be the reason clouds cry?
  I think my favorite part about this time of year is that every time I step outside and the chilled air hits my skin, I am overcome with wonder of the masterful artistry of God and with every breath of air, every color, every scent, I am so captivated in fascination that each step excites me. I am also prone to let my mind wander through a world I do not live in, letting my imagination sore with clouds that mourn and mountains that breath.

   I am going to ask a question. I am hesitant to do this for I don't really know if anyone will respond, but I have concluded that it won't hurt to try.
  If you could allow any one thing that is naturally inaudible speak in the human tongue, what would you choose?
  If I could ever have this choice, I would choose a tree. They have always been something that has captured my curiosity. Would this have anything to do with my reading of the Lord of The Rings and my adoration of those books? Definitely.
  Specifically, I would very much like to talk with a might oak or a swaying birch. I wonder if their voices would differ. Would they have an abundance of wisdom from ancient years in the earth, or do they sleep through the years?

  Well, that's my choice. What would you choose? 

My Soul Will Fly Away.

   Monday.
   To me, contrary to the general opinion of my family and really of all the people I know, this is my favorite day of all. There is a freshness on this day that I just don't feel on other days and when I wake up to a drowsy sun just about to rise, I am inspired to make the week as intriguing as possible.
   It was on this day one week ago that I created this image and it has taking me exactly one week to be fully happy with it. Each day of last week, I woke up and saw different things I didn't like about it or I found something new I wanted to add. With these new things I took away or introduced, I asked myself why I had put those things in or taken them away, and it was not until I added birds and the concept of flight that I fully became aware of what I felt towards the message behind the photo.
   It is not merely a portrayal of grief, which is what I had initially planned to create, but rather, a story about death. That death is both a finality and an infinity, both dreadfully sad for those left behind but so gloriously joyous for the child of God that takes the last steps to where they have been traveling to since birth, their home in heaven.
  But for those of us who are left behind as the spirit of loved ones fly away, there is a struggle with hope. I've observed people who search for this hope, perhaps looking for something they think they need but ultimately can't find. I have seen rejection, an angry cry of "why" demanded from God, the One who knows all and who has planned everything for a specific purpose. But I have also observed people who have found hope in the arms of Christ, the same arms that received the spirits who flew through the gates of the Kingdom.
   I think the thing that fascinates me the most, and what has so captivated my mind lately, is how people are grieved by the fact of what death is. It is, in a material sense, the final page turned in the life of that person here on earth. It is complete, it is heartbreaking. But for Christians, yes we grieve for the departure of a soul we loved and will never see again on this earth, but more importantly, if that soul received spiritual life while still alive on this planet, we rejoice in what death truly means. That the soul has reached it's true home in heaven, where every Christian will arrive one day in jubilant reunion with their Creator.
   Death is mysterious. It is something we can't fully understand until we have experienced it. But for me, the mystery is exciting. We have no idea of how amazing heaven will be and this is why I think I see death in such a beautiful way.
   Well, the week has begun and now I must go and live it. But I can not help but ponder how glorious it will be when my soul, too, will fly away someday. 

The Cages We Build

  A hole to dig, a door to slam, a window to draw shut. The havens we create for ourselves where we run and hide from this world infected by frustration and cruelty, the ones where we refuse to hear or articulate the truth because of the fear that is whispered to us, can forever become our cages.
  

   
 It's funny how a little experiment can broaden into a deep personal connection.

 On a particularly quiet day, I set out to do a composite (a combining of photos) merely so I could get practice by doing so. I didn't want to do anything extreme, just a simple adding-of-fabric image that I had pictured (aha) in my head for a while. So I grabbed a scarf, opened the curtains, and sat down in my room with the hopes that I could indeed synchronize with the two-second timer and my flinging skills. 

   After many strange and hilarious photos of me looking a bit distracted with the scarf all over the place, I eventually honed in my timing and got a few photos of the scarf in the air.

   As I started to edit, I began to see a story develop that I had not intentionally put there. It was as if I was seeing a character grow chapter by chapter in a way that makes one feel as if they are not just reading about that character, but traveling with them on their adventure, feeling their emotions, thinking through their problems and overcoming them. And yet, as I added each element to this picture, I saw that I was not simply creating a plot and character in which to tell a fantasy, but that I was indeed that character on the adventure, getting consumed by the scarf that seemingly has locked the door to my mouth in its billowing folds of fabric, fully feeling the struggle of fighting against this confinement, and ultimately striving to overcome the conflict.
   Even with this concept in mind, I see the plot change and expand with each time I look at this photo. I don't think I have come to a full understanding of why I created this, or what exactly is the end of the story, but I think that is the most exciting thing about it. That I don't know the full extent of how this image speaks to my heart because with each new look at it, I find something new.
   I got lost in a story, yet found myself there.