Where I Show Up

I am learning

Where I show up

How

I sew up my wounds.

I am learning

Where I appear

Where I don’t

When I’m clear

On what I need

Yes indeed, yes indeed.

I am learning 

That I have a spine

And yes, that it belongs to me

That it is mine.

I am learning

How scary it is

To take up space

But that’s how it is.

I’m learning why they call it a race.

S’okay,

The tortoise gets there anyway.

I’m learning 

That not every place

Is meant for me

It’s not my fault

Or their’s

That’s just how things be.

Some tones clash

Lash out

Cause pain.

It’s just a reflection of our own brains.

I’m learning where I show up

And I’m learning with who.

How to connect

How to see good things through.

I’m learning it’s not easy

But nor is getting strong.

I’m learning that it was in me.

This spirit, all along.

But of all of the things and the folks I see

I’m learning, I’m learning, I’m learning

How to show up for me.

Testing, testing ...

A couple of weeks ago, an idea started to percolate for a photography series that I wanted to shoot.  I had this visual shot in my mind that really stood out and I gave it space to roll around in my brain from there.  As it rolled around, it started to ask questions.  Questions like, what am I?  What story am I telling?  What feelings will I elicit?  

These questions started to prod other parts of my creative life.  I began thinking about my writing and my writing implements that are gathering dust on a shelf in my apartment.  I started to think about my experimental short films that are begging to be captured.  I am so fortunate to have all of these modes of expression at my disposal but, to some degree, I sit inactive because of these primary questions - what is the story I’m wanting to tell?  

Today I went out for a drive and found a lovely rocky beach.  The sun had warmed the air enough for me to sit in my tee shirt.  I enjoyed the warmth on my skin and the smell of salt that gently tickled my nostrils.  The rhythmic waves crashing acted like a metronome to the soothing symphony of joy played out in the scenery around me.

I’d equipped myself with my cameras and a costume to start shooting this new series.  I didn’t know what I would walk away with but thought that digging into the work might help me to answer some of the questions that had been coming up for me.  I sat and played for the better part of an hour and walked away with a few test shots that I was happy with.  None of them quite nailed the visual aesthetic I was going for - I’ll need to think a bit more about the specifics of making these images pop, but the story started to appear, so I called it a success.

I don’t know how long I’ll spend on this series.  A part of me thinks it may be something that tags along with me over the next few years, if not for the duration of my life.  I’ve let go of needing to know its ending, though.  When and if it feels like it’s time to close it off and call it done, I’m sure I’ll know. 

30 days of art

January is such an odd month in my books.  It offers this beautiful metaphor for new beginnings and leaving behind what no longer serves.  That being said, it is also, historically, the toughest month of the year for me.  Why is this?  Good question.  It could be the cold, the dark, the lack of in-season-fruits at my disposal - whatever the cause, I find it to be the month when my depression is at its lowest.  My energy dips and my inspirations dries up.  I can sometimes find it physically difficult to do much more than read, binge TV shows and eat a ridiculous amount of buttered popcorn.  Sadly, this can result in a horrible cycle where my inability to be active and do more than the bare minimum ends up starving me both nutritionally and inspirationally.  At some point during the month, I’m required to gather all of my strength in what feels like a super human push to get myself out of this rut.

This year I decided to approach January a little differently.  Knowing it would be a difficult time, I set myself the goal of engaging in some sort of artistic endeavour for 30 days straight.  This would be an attempt to forcefully inject joy into my day, every day, even when I didn’t feel like it.  I love creating.  I love writing, taking photographs, drawing and painting.  Even when I feel like what I’ve created is flawed or less-than, the experience of engaging in the activity puts my head in a better state of being.  That being said, during the month of January, engaging in what I know I love to do is still a struggle.  Even though I know I’ll be happier on the other side and know that on a deeper level, I want to engage in something that speaks to my heart, bringing myself to the table takes effort.  

This challenge has been a beautiful gift to myself.  It has given me the means to work out pent up energy and gaze curiously upon how my brain navigates through this tough time of year.  There are days I procrastinate.  There are days when what I produce is sort of bare minimum.  There are ebbs and flows of motivation and inspiration.  No matter what, though, I engage.  Every single day.  On days when I’m too exhausted to create, I absorb art in thoughtful and intentional ways: I’ll read pages of poetry from a writer I often overlook, I’ll open a photography book I have purchased and then neglected to give time to.  My goal is to stretch my artistic muscles each and every day, no matter what that looks like.  

I am currently on day 22 of 30 - I started a few days before January 1st so that I’d be in the groove come the new year.  I am certain that I still have a few lessons and “aha’s” to receive in my last week or so of creating but right now, I can say that my biggest take away is a huge sense of gratitude.  I’m grateful for the fact that I live in an environment where it is safe enough for me to spend time each day creating.  I am grateful that I have a brain that gives me access to creative insights and inspiration.  I am grateful that I have the means to afford the pencils, papers and film I need to continue to explore my world through the lens of art.  And mostly, I am grateful to myself for caring enough about my mental and emotional well being to put forth this challenge and actually engage in it.

Below is a compilation of videos that I’ve captured over the course of this challenge.  The music is a snapshot of a song that I’ve written.  Writing the lyrics was one of the daily challenges I committed to.  Recording the lyrics and creating a music video will come next, maybe even in the next seven days - a big finish to a big challenge.

Creating a Warm Holiday Vibe

Let’s be straight about it - the holidays can be busy, exhausting and expensive.  Even when we do our best to keep within budget, unexpected events or gifts can come up that end up emptying out our wallets.  ’Tis the season for consumerism, yes.  But also, and on a more cup-half-full frame of mind, ’tis the season for generosity, connection and rest - and that’s pretty special.  Even so, having a few tricks and tips to keep costs down is generally welcome in any household, so for this week’s post, I’m going to talk about my creative decorating hacks.

My list is short and sweet but can add a little bit of warmth to your home and at nearly no cost.  Chances are, you’ve already done your decorating.  But given the number of people I’ve seen doing very last minute shopping over the past few days, I’ve come to believe that there are people out there who are frantically trying to set up their tree as I write this out.  If that’s not you, that’s great!  You are probably sitting by a festive yule log (digitally, of course) and drinking hot cocoa.  That sounds fabulous.  In that case, enjoy this read and book mark it for next year.  If you are among the few still trying to get the house ready for company, then I invite you to dive in and have some fun creating something special.  Without further delay, I present to you my creative holiday decorations.

1. Popcorn tree garland.  First of all, how can you go wrong with anything made out of popcorn?  It’s delicious which means that your home will feel like a salty treat.  On top of that, you get to make popcorn in order to make the garland.  On top, on top of that, you get to eat whatever popcorn is left over.  Plus, it makes your tree look like it’s been tickled with cartoon-like snow.  The only down side, it can take some time.  The plus side, you can use that time to pop on a Christmas movie in the background.  Once you are done your decoration, you can sit back and watch the rest of your movie with the rest of your popcorn.

2. Film Canister tree ornaments.  I do understand that in order to accomplish this you need to have an abundance of film canisters around.  My gift to you - another reason to start shooting film.  I pop a little hole in their lids and then slide them on top of my LED Christmas lights for a funky little light show.  If you decide to go ahead with this one, please be sure that you aren’t popping them onto Christmas lights that heat up real bad.  No one enjoys the smell of melting plastic on Christmas morning, trust me on that one.

3. Book Page Himmeli.  This was a new one for me this year.  It is a Scandinavian craft that is traditionally used around the holiday season and at weddings.  All that is required is some string, some glue, a kebab stick and some old paper.  I was fortunate enough to acquire some old book pages for crafting from my local library.  Have I mentioned lately how wonderful libraries are?  If you haven’t visited one recently, you ought to.  But back to the Himmeli.  These crafts are delicate and interesting and really fun to build.  Truthfully, I like mine so much that I’ll probably keep them around long after the holiday season.

This list is brief and there are obviously a few more I could dive into - paper snowflakes, interesting centre pieces, gingerbread palaces, but I need something to write about next holiday season so we’ll leave it there.  Happy holidays to all.  May you be filled with joy and warmth this season.

The Importance of Doing Nothing

Have you ever heard the phrase “it’s a blessing and a curse”?  Of course you have, or if you haven’t, maybe you’ve been truly doing nothing for the past few decades in which case you won’t relate to this blog post at all.  Or maybe you’ll relate to it too much.  

I feel very lucky to have the creative mind that I do.  I like the quirky ways it works out problems and the creative means it offers me in which to express those solutions.  It’s fun, inventive and weird in a way that I really like.  That being said, sometimes I let it run too fast for too long and have to manually turn it off.  Kind of like when your computer is fucking up and you can’t figure out why - just turn it off and turn it back on again.  I’m learning and implementing skills that teach me how to slow my mind down so that I don’t end up at these crash points.  Setting boundaries with the outside world as well as my creative muse, though, is hard and although I’m getting better at it, I’m not perfect.  I will always have a lot to learn.

Doing nothing on the beach

One of the methods I use to set boundaries with my creative muse is to keep a journal that contains all of my new ideas.  I’ll write down a sloppy log-line and a few points that accompanied the thought and leave it at that.  It’s almost a way of saying “I hear you, thank you, I’ve written it down and I’ll get to it as soon as I am able”.  This works.  Sometimes.  Sometimes the ideas come so quickly I can hardly keep up.  Sometimes I’m in a very inconvenient place when the idea arises and it never gets to the journal.  Sometimes a new idea comes and the project I’m currently working on doesn’t feel nearly as bright and shiny and packed with glitter and ends up getting shoved to the back burner.  Sometimes this results in me having multiple projects on the go at once and not one of them being close to completion.

There are a number of lessons I could pull from this:  Lessons about the importance of follow through, a number of lessons about the choices we make and the paths they take us down, something trite about the grass being greener on the other side… I’m going to leave those lessons for another day, though, and focus solely on the importance of giving yourself a break when there is too much and how this actually better serves your productivity, or at least the quality of what you are producing.

Doing nothing in a cabin

First, I’d like to extend some compassion and a big hug to myself and anyone who is reading this and finds it relatable.  No one ever wants to overwhelm themselves.  It’s a terrible feeling and generally speaking doesn’t do great things to your quality of life or the quality of life of the people around you.  I truly believe that no one overwhelms themselves on purpose.  There are a few reasons it tends to happen, though, and they can include:

• Testing or expanding your limits - there is a natural “three steps forward, one step back” cadence when we are learning to come out of our shells and take on more.

• Lack of understanding around the task you are setting out to complete - this is also natural.  It is natural for us to not know what we don’t know.  Setting out to complete a new or different project, then, can land us in over our heads.  That being said, this will hopefully be a lesson you only have to learn once or twice.  If you lack understanding, a reasonable solution is likely to gain some, or at least step back and acknowledge how little you know so that you can estimate better.

• Unexpected life shit-storm - Look, sometimes we end up overwhelmed not as a result of our choices, but as a result of unfortunate circumstances that we find ourselves in.  You have likely found yourself in the midst of a shit storm before, and you’ll likely find yourself in the midst of one at some time in the future.  It just is what it is.
  

Before I go on, I’d like to acknowledge that at some point, you will have to get the stuff done.  Doing nothing is important, but it doesn’t get the bills paid or the food cooked or the house cleaned or the project done.  There are great approaches to the issue of being overwhelmed - making plans, chunking things down, these are all helpful skills that will inevitably assist you in accomplishing that mountain of a to-do list that has you feeling like you have so far to go.  After all, you can’t sit at the bottom of the mountain forever and expect to somehow get to the other side without a bit of effort.  Even when the effort is something you get enjoyment out of, like with cooking, art and creative projects, it’ll still take some elbow grease and likely still challenge you on a multitude of levels you weren’t expecting.  In fact, it’ll probably scare the shit out of you at some point because doing something that feels important is often a little bit scary.  That last sentence applies to art but not cooking.  I hope you are not scared when you are cooking or I am officially scared to eat your food.

My hats at rest while I rest my feet.

But before you hike, before you plan your pathway up the mountain, take a minute to sit.  There will be a list of “what’s next” that’ll want to keep running in your head and I urge you to manually unplug that machine and just sit.  Expand your awareness, deepen your breath and then genuinely do nothing.  Your body will thank you.  Your exhausted brain will thank you.  Your project that doesn’t yet have an ending will thank you - believe it or not there’s a chance that you already have all the bits you need but have been so busy your brain hasn’t had the opportunity to plug the pieces together yet.  

The view from laying on the grass and doing nothing

Take a moment and imagine that you’ve already done “enough” in life and that everything else is for you.  How would you frame of mind change?  How would your project change?  Pretend that you already have all of the skills you need to finish your next challenge.  How does that inform your choices?  How does your body feel?  And finally, as you gaze up at that summit that you need to reach, the one that sits just beyond the to-do list that overwhelms you, look down at where you are already sitting.  Do you realize that you are already on a summit - forged from all of the choices made and journeys traveled up to this point?  

I am ending this post with a hug to myself and to all of those who find this piece relatable.  Because even if you’ve got a long ways to go, you’ve already come so far and it’s okay to occasionally stop and let that sink in.

A sign posted to remind you that you are already on top of a summit

Big projects, big trust.

Working with film as a creative medium is a process that requires a lot of trust.  Unlike digital, you can’t stop and check to make sure you got the shot.  You can’t check your light, you can’t be sure that your model didn’t blink until the shoot is over and you are at home (or in the lab) developing your work.  This means that on the day, you have to trust that you got the shot, or if you didn’t, that you weren’t meant to capture it in the first place.    

I love playing with in-camera double exposures.  This process, however, doubles the need for trust.  

… I’m going to back it up here and explain what a double exposure shot is for anyone who isn’t intimately familiar with using film as a medium.

When you are shooting with film, you need to measure your light correctly in order for your film to be properly exposed.  Not enough light, your film comes out dark.  Too much light, it’s over-exposed and comes out blindingly white with little definition.  When you shoot a double exposure, you are taking two separate shots on a single frame of film.  This means that each time you shoot, you have to expose your film half way, giving it half the light that is required, so that both shots combined provides you with a properly exposed image.

Some cameras have functions built into them that make capturing a double exposure shot easy.  You can hold down a button that sort of tricks your camera into thinking it’s moved forward to a new shot when it hasn’t.  My cameras don’t have this capability. I can manually trick it but it doesn’t have quite the same precision.  This means that when I shoot double exposures, I generally shoot an entire roll this way (at half light) and then remove the film, put it back in the camera and start again.  

So.  Not only do I have to trust that I have done the math correctly and measured my light appropriately, I have to trust that I’ve lined my film up on the exact right peg both times so that the images I have in mind have lined up over one another properly.  On top of that, I have to trust that my composition plays out on paper like I think it will in my mind.  With double exposures, the darker regions of a photo will take to the second image better.  So, picture an image of a mountain range and a bright blue sky.  The second image you overlay will show up nicely on the mountains, but hardly anything will show in the sky.  You need to consider these things when designing your final piece.

You can spend months on a double exposure project, as I am right now, and you won’t know until you develop your roll at the very end if it’s come out right.  This is something that would have paralyzed my process at one point.  I’m happy to say, though, that my fear has shifted and turned itself into excitement and curiosity.  I’ve come to learn that my double exposure projects never work out exactly as I’ve pictured them - but they always work out.  In fact, I’ve stood there in my little home lab staring at my wet negatives and weeping at the fact that a piece turned out so much better than I could have anticipated.  Weeping?  Yes, weeping.  I have a lot of feelings and I’m not ashamed of them.  They allow me to experience deeply and translate the human experience into a tangible image that others can relate to.  Besides, the weeping comes with a bit of laughing.  Everything in balance, right?

I sometime wonder if this reaction to my own work is related to imposter syndrome.  The feeling that I’m not actually an artist, not actually a photographer.  Private moments like this feel like gifts from the universe - a whisper that tells me that I am the thing, the title, the action that I question and that I’m already in motion.

Not long ago I bravely submitted a series of my double exposures to an international photography competition.  It was the first time I’d ever submitted my photography to anything public.  It was the first time that I’d allowed professionals with credentials in that arena observe and analyze my work and give their two cents on whether it had legs.  Interestingly enough, they thought it did.  In the amateur section, I walked away with two separate awards - peoples’ choice award and honorary mention in my category.  

I try really hard not to base my worth as an artists on external opinions and acceptance.  I do everything I can to bring my attention away from how the end product is received and put it on the process of doing.  I have deep trust that when I carry my camera, the shot comes to me.  Like a magnet, me and the piece come together and meet in an unexpected way.  All that is needed is that we both step out of the door - ready to create together.  That being said, there is the age old conundrum of art needing an audience.  So now and then, it’s nice to have too.