I am a lover of words. Poignant and powerful markers of character and intent. Nothing is as satisfying as succinctly expressing what moves the heart, what captivates our intellect and defines our curiosities. Yet, so much of 2016 has left me without them, speechless and muted. I would love to read the words of Steinbeck, Abbey or Whitman had they encountered our country's current state of "transition".
I was deeply moved by Michelle Obama's speech in New Hampshire earlier this year and I can't forget her words. Not words of a politician, not words of a democrat, not words of a woman of color, just words, woman to woman. Words that resonated and awakened.
Where did the time go? 2016 has seemingly slipped out of my control and threatens to come to an end soon. Seems like a blur and in reality, so much of this year was spent dealing with the fallout of the previous year,
I had a couple of hours to come up with a bio and photo of myself for a photography project I was working on. Had to be "polished and graphic" for publication purposes. To be truthful, I knew I had to do it but procrastinated hugely as I'm not much into taking my own photo. I was actually on my way out to hike with my dog and had to turn around when I got an email to get it done today.
I completed the task at hand, sent off my bio and photo. My favorite of the self-portraits is this one. To those who have said,
"Step out from behind that camera!"
I say this: As in life, I've given the camera ( my photography) the spotlight.
My work says so much more about me than a bio shot ever could. As in the photo, I see myself as simply the girl behind it all. I'm not hiding, just content to be quiet, understated, introspective and observing, With one eye, I see the world as it is and with the other, I see the world behind the lens. There are two very different worlds I live in.
The beautiful amber light from the late afternoon sun brings forth the element I cherish and seek to capture, the warm glow of natural light.
Perfect side light now seen falling on auburn hair, a gift from my mother.
“She was a beautiful dreamer. The kind of girl, who kept her head in the clouds, loved above the stars and left regret beneath the earth she walked on.”
"It’s in our nature to want to watch our human frailties played out on a huge, epic canvas. Ancient societies had anthropomorphic gods: a huge pantheon expanding into centuries of dynastic drama: fathers and sons, star-crossed lovers, warring brothers, martyred heroes. Tales that taught us the danger of hubris and the primacy of humility. It’s the everyday stuff of everyman’s life, but it’s writ large, and we love it."
"As it started to snow, some 300 men, women, and children, perhaps tipped off by a sentry that an army was on its way, ascended to the top and pulled up the ladders. Hoping the evil might pass beneath them, they planned to hunker down and dwell in silence for months.Then one day, as the bleak winter sun slipped behind the canyon walls, a column of American soldiers came marching into the canyon, laying waste to fields and chiseling their Kilroys into the sandstone. Some of their inscriptions are still visible today. Somehow detecting the Navajo sequestered on top, the Americans camped near the base of Fortress Rock, beside a stream called Tsaile Creek, and attempted to starve them into final submission.
Giclee - The French word "giclée" is a feminine noun that means a spray or a spurt of liquid. The word may have been derived from the French verb "gicler" meaning "to squirt".
The term"Giclee print" connotes an elevation in printmaking technology. Images are generated from high resolution digital scans and printed with archival quality inks onto various substrates including canvas, fine art, and photo-base paper. The Giclee printing process provides better color accuracy than other means of reproduction. Printed on acid free, 100% cotton rag, Sommerset Velvet paper for the look and feel of the original watercolor.
I consider myself fortunate to be centrally located and surrounded by hundreds of miles of dynamic geologic land forms, where new discoveries are a mere road trip away. Each adventure becomes a muse and a catalyst for my next set of photographic expressions, prose and cherished memories. The photography serves as the documentation while the writing helps to define and express the emotive. Each road trip becomes a complete love affair. Affair being an apt word as the landscape and nature of a road trip opens up the freedom to dip your toes in then leave.
“Her pleasure in the walk must arise from the exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year upon the tawny leaves and withered hedges, and from repeating to herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn--that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness--that season which has drawn from every poet worthy of being read some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling.” ― Jane Austen
“Every now and then one paints a picture that seems to have opened a door and serves as a stepping stone to other things.”
― Pablo Picasso
Before I was a photographer, I was a painter. Photography changed everything. The joy I felt within the creative processes of planning and executing a painting, I've also found in photography. I still compose my images as though they were to be painted.
I still find that beautiful, creative satisfaction as I explore in and out of my own photographic comfort zones. I love experimenting with different genres and with light, color, lenses and post process. Anything that brings me closer to communicating the mood of a landscape. I want to always be excited and motivated to experiment in finding that connection.
Sussing out a location and lining up the path of tonights "Blood Moon" I couldn't help but notice this exquisite last bit of light on the desert. I love the very classic look of The American Southwest.
"Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light"
Hundreds of hippies of all ages converge to chill among the old buildings, the kind they say have character and could tell stories. A balmy summeresque night in the old phoenix art district with friends. Art galleries, street musicians, city murals, boho vibes, cold beer and a whole lot of weirdness, but a delicious sense of freedom and expression as well. A place to explore to say the least and a great excuse to practice some street/night photography. I'm hooked!!
“I love the way she survived. Survival looked good on her. There were no dark marks under her eyes. Maybe deep inside, but I liked the way she looked through them and laughed at life. She did it gracefully. She’d walked over glass and through fire, but still smiled.