finding my voice


It seems that when folks find out that you enjoy photography or that you intend to pursue it as a career, there are some pretty typical responses. “Oh you know my granddaughter/cat/jelly jar collection is just the cutest! I’m sure you’d love to take pictures of her/them!” If I reply that I don’t really do that type of photography, then the next statement is, “Oh you want to work for a newspaper, I get it.” Um, no not really. That’s when you lose them. “Well then, what do you think of the weather hasn’t it just been so hot/cold/windy/wet lately.”
Don’t even get me started about what happens when I do try to be utterly honest and state, “No I don’t normally take pet photos. Actually right now I am working on a conceptual portfolio of self-portraits that outline the nightmares I have had for nearly a decade.” Talk about clutching the pearls!
For years I struggle with all of the check the appropriate box type forms that were a staple of life in college and the beginning of adult life. It felt a bit like failure to answer an entire questionnaire with “OTHER”.
This struggle with defining what OTHER really is, can be seen in the history of my photographs. I have taken requests just to make a little cash. I have taken countless photos for family members for all sorts of reasons. These images were taken for my sister when she redecorated her bedroom. Not a complaint, sometimes I do need a task, a direction to travel to force me down the road toward creativity.
You see photography for me is like chocolate cake. I love it, but it just isn’t always good for me. Or perhaps sometimes I try to avoid it because of the work that I know will come afterwards. Although honestly sometimes 30 minutes of pilates seems more welcoming than 10 minutes of editing negatives. (And if you know me you know how I just RELISH exercise!)
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