Just one of those days…

…when I wake up questioning everything, wondering what the hell I’m doing, and why bother?  The proverbial drawing board seems I’m always at it, feeling lost and even unworthy of standing in front of it.  

I’m afraid I’ve become a victim of my own attempt to “lighten up” on myself.  In doing so, I’ve allowed myself to pass marginal images as work.  I used to spend days thinking, envisioning images, how to compose, light, shoot, what the final negative would consist of.  Execution was no less hurried or strenuous.  I could literally spend an hour just setting up a single shot, shoot and re-shoot til I was either successful in my attempt or walk away in utter defeat.  I didn’t force anything, would settle for nothing less than my original intent. I don’t pretend I’ve ever risen above mediocrity, but there was a time I was so driven by obsession, my work was on a upward trend of improvement. 

I think my downfall is to be drawn into latest trends and kitsch, try to fit my square peg self into a round hole.  I suppose I feel this way because I don’t think I’ve ever found my own personal style or know how to develop one.  Enter the rash of badly lit snapshots and banal images.  I have some extremely talented friends who could point a $5 disposable camera at a trash can and create a beautiful piece of art.  I’m not one of those people.  They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but I must apologize for even attempting such a thing.  In my case, it’s been a monumental farce. 

Photography is hard work, and those passionate about it, work hard at it; much harder than I have done in the last several months I must say.  It’s like the person who buys their first digital camera, the “spray and pray” mentality, where shooting a lot=hopefully something worthwhile.  I need to get my act together and start working hard again, this dead end road is getting tiresome. 

Gallery reception; intimate view of an artist

I attended the gallery reception for Kathleen Robbins’ The Art of Arranging Things last night at City Art Gallery.  More than an opening reception, it was a revealing of the artist’s soul, a poignant portrait of family, space, and time.  I’ve come to know her work because she’s my youngest daughter Tricia’s photography professor at the University of South Carolina.  I’ve been fascinated by the images on her website and blog for some time now, but there is so much lost to us, staring blankly back from a computer screen.  The images in the gallery are big, bright, and brimming with detail, which is not translated with the same bravado in the compressed digital images.

 

I have a penchant for the dramatic, the more the better.  If you look through the links I have posted in my Inspiration heading, you’ll see the type of work I’m drawn and aspire to.  Kathleen’s work is in stark contrast to the over-the-top, heavily manipulated type imaging, it’s more realistic, down to Earth.   There is a warm intimacy in her images; her style is elegantly simple and uncomplicated.  So much art is lost to the common person (of which I consider myself), it’s superfluous, egotistical, narcissist by its very nature; that was the real beauty of the work presented last night, it was relatable to anyone.  Her life could be any one of ours, her love for her family and home are tangible, and it’s quietly whispered to the viewer standing in front of the 30×30 photographs. 

California Dreamin’

All the leaves are brown

And the sky is gray

I’ve been for a walk

On a winter’s day  

Last night I attended a gallery exhibition opening (more on that later) downtown.  It was raining, a steady cold rain, the kind that settles into your bones and makes one long for warmth and sunshine.  I fought my way through traffic and the smudgy distortion of the windshield wipers on the glass to find a parking spot, only to be told I couldn’t park in the spot I found unless I forked over $5.  Like Hell!  I fought the traffic a bit more and finally found a spot that didn’t look like I’d be towed or ticketed for using and made my way into the gallery. 

I had a nice time mingling amongst the people and the show was great.  I had packed my camera bag in the car, as I felt the itch to take some pictures that night.  I’ve always wanted to take some images around the capitol building at night, and the rain soaked world was strangely inspirational to me.  So after I soaked in the atmosphere and images in the gallery, I took my leave.

It was strange walking around the city, everyone scurried to take shelter from the rain.  I walked head on into the night, gripping my tripod; it becoming so cold my hand went numb and was stinging from the bitter wetness of the cold rain.  I was undeterred.   I felt strangely adventurous and confident; I walked with purpose and conviction, hell-bent to capture the streets before its slumber, glistening like a dark jewel in the rain.  It’s strange, the effect rain has on things, and how it translates on film.  In the day, it saturates colors rendering them so vibrant it looks like an acrylic painting; at night it washes away the grit of everything leaving it looking shiny and new. 

Perhaps that is the seduction it held over me last night, leaving me searching for more places and subjects to photograph despite the deplorable conditions.  I visited new places, and revisited some old ones.  I ended the evening at the Waffle House, and took pictures surreptitiously from my corner booth.  I awoke this morning with a severe headache and sore throat, but my expedition was certainly worth my discomfort; I just hope the resulting images will make me as happy.

Truckin’ for Jesus

Religion permeates many aspects of living in the south

Well, I’ve finally got some images from my recent project developed.  I’m not sure about them, or even my ideas for the project itself anymore.  I always do this, get all fired up and passionate about something, and get mired down by doubt, lack of time to dedicate to it, and finally just end up giving up in disgust! 

The original premise of my project was to show what life in the American South is like.  I’m afraid the south I want to portray and the one I live in are two separate places in time.  You have to understand that I am caught in a sort of time warp in my mind; I over romanticize the past, put too much emphasis on “ancient history” so to speak.  The South I envision in my mind ceased to exist at the end of the Civil War, I’m afraid if that makes any sense.  Eudora Welty captured this feeling of my homeland so wonderfully during the Great Depression in her native Mississippi.  Being the history lover I am, I still want to envision the sort of Gone With the Wind era of life in the present day.  Perhaps now you understand my dilemma, it’s impossible to photograph what doesn’t exist!  Maybe I’m just not creative enough to marry my vision with reality. 

Altered Reality (for the love of plastic cameras)

One of the most exciting gifts I received for Christmas this year was a camera included with a rather large and hideous Bratz doll.  It’s an actual working 35mm point and shoot camera, and was even packaged with a 12 exp roll of film.  It comes complete with a genuine, removable, faux flash.  I don’t want to sound too silly describing how badly I wanted this thing when I saw it in the store.  You probably don’t want to know how many quarters I loaded into a bubble gum machine, trying to win a miniature camera when I was young either. 

One of the first orders of business on Christmas morning was to alter the lens.  I wanted it to be really funky!  So I headed to the garage, and while I was frying the turkey, I heated the plastic lens with a propane torch to melt and distort the plastic.  I loaded up the film and could hardly wait to see what kind of results I’d get.  Well, I finally finished the roll this past weekend and got it developed.  I like some of the images; others are just too blurred to be remotely interesting.  I do like the cool retro colors plastic lenses give film, so I’m chuffed about that part of the images.

Click image to enlarge