Incomplete.

Think about how much you do is spurred on by a feeling of being incomplete. For me, it is almost everything. I grow my business because I feel incomplete. This is a good thing. I want more, I reach for more, and eventually hope to achieve it. As an artist, feeling incomplete is a good thing. It means you aren’t complacent. It means you are reaching for something bigger.

The key is to see yourself as incomplete by your own standards. Don’t see it as a bad thing. Don’t see yourself as tragically flawed because you don’t have everything you’ve wished for yet. Think of yourself as a work in progress. We all are. It is what makes us human. It is how we know we’re alive.

Push yourself. Strive for more. Scare yourself. Acknowledge how many puzzle pieces are missing from your life. Issue yourself a challenge.

I pulled on my favorite white dress, snow boots and a coat and ran outside with my camera and tripod in hand. I didn’t think twice about what might be a “good idea” or not, I just did it. I wanted a picture in the snow and I didn’t know how long it would last. I wanted to savor that moment as much as I possibly could, recognizing it’s fleeting quality and wanting to be there, right there, logging it in my memory.

As I sit here, just an hour later, I am hit with the incredible metaphor this morning has been for this whole year I’ve just lived. In this last year I have taken strides to be a different person – a better person. I began 2014 with the simplest of goals: be kind, share love, appreciate more. Even the simplest goals have their difficult moments. This morning I slipped in the snow as my feet turned bright red from the cold and nearly dropped my camera in a puddle. But even so, it was worth it, whether a photo results or not. And that is what I learned from this year: It doesn’t matter if something works out in the end. All that matters is how hard we tried, how much we loved, and what story we write in the process.

I can’t help but look out my window and see the snow very much like a twist in a novel. It never snows here. This feels like a New Year’s miracle. And just as a novel might do, life has thrown in a twist of joy. Stories exist to excite our minds. Stories are life and imagination smashed together in a great dichotomy of wonder. And so, in this amazing world we live in, it is easy today to see how even the simplest stories create moments ripe for an amazing life, no matter how small, commonplace, or insignificant they seem.

As each year passes I realize more and more why I am who I am. I am a storyteller, and I want nothing more than to share the world with others in the way I see it. We each see so differently, and beautifully, and it is a shame not to share in those experiences. And so I tell stories, with a camera or with my words, and I hope each time a new one blooms that someone will want to be a part of it.

I have struggled through great life lessons this year. I have recognized my flaws and worked to fix them, knowing that once they are fixed new ones will appear. Life is funny like that. I have seen my impatience and have found peace. I have worked to see all people as equally important. I have embraced a mindset of love, for that is what connects one person to another: the desire for it, and the capacity to share it.

It is so very difficult to look back on this year and see anything tangible. I care so little, more and more, for those things which might traditionally define a person. An exhibition, a speaking event, even creating a new image; it all feels so small in relation to the bigger picture. For each and every endeavor that one can embark on, no matter how many accolades they might receive, can always be reduced to the simplest idea: what kind of story did you create from the experience?

And so I move into the new year with Story on my mind. New goals follow that pursuit, though I’ll leave that for a different blog post. For today, my story is about a girl who gazed in wonder at a scene powerful and moving, and as the snow whipped through the air and settled in her hair she realized that the greatest gift one can receive is that of presence. For in the moment, no matter how small, there are great stories to be told.

Give me a nasty comment online about my photos and I shrug it off. If someone doesn’t like the work I create, it doesn’t hurt me. I don’t spend my time looking into negativity. I don’t spend my days worrying about if people like what I do or not. What does get me, every single time, is how people experience me as a person. I put a lot of pressure on myself to be at my best all the time, and it physically pains me to think that I have given someone less than that.

Everyone deals with disappointment in different ways. It might be disappointment in a product, in someone else, or in yourself. In my case, I have trouble dealing with disappointment in myself. I hold everyone and everything in my life to high standards, but none more than me personally. I don’t deal with disappointment well. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I get physically ill. Sometimes I want to stop everything that I’ve worked for so as to never feel that feeling again.

Just a couple hours ago I said, out loud, that I wanted to quit my job. I didn’t want to move forward with any of the projects I’ve been working on for fear of being judged, rejected, or disappointing someone. Yet even as I thought about quitting, I could hear my future self, the one who wants to push harder and move further, talking rather loudly in my ear. She was telling me that if I never put myself out there I can never be a positive influence in the world. If I never put myself out there I can never do what my heart is set on doing. Yet the other side, like a little devil sitting on my shoulder, told me that I will do too much harm to make it worth it.

I will let people down. I will be a disappointment. I will never be what someone wants me to be.

Yet all the while, I will be myself. I will try to work on my journey and how I see the world and how I interact with it. I will try to be a better person. I will try to touch people’s lives for the better. I will try, and trying is all we can expect of each other.

That is a truth that I know intimately. It is a truth I have come face to face with many times. There are days when I want to quit. Right now, at this very moment, I have that desire deep in my bones. I don’t want to mess up. I don’t want to be a disappointment. Yet even greater than that is the knowledge that when one perseveres, tries harder, and becomes a better person, other people will benefit as well.

I might fail a hundred times, but if I succeed at only one thing, I hope it is to help someone, somewhere, in some way. In any way. To spread the love that I feel inside. And should I fail, I will welcome that failure with open arms. I will regret nothing because I tried my best. I will work to correct my mistakes. I will progress. I will challenge myself. I will try.

Let yourself feel what your body wants to feel. Let yourself be emotional and scared and understand, in those moments, how terrifying it is to put yourself out there. But when that feeling passes, even if only in a small amount, remind yourself of how incredible you are. You are only one small human, and yet in being so, you are powerful beyond measure. Next time you fall, remember that if you never did, you could not understand the immense honor of reaching peaks. All of life is made up of valleys and mountain tops that seem out of reach, yet both are attainable. We will fall and we will rise again, and we will do so understanding more about life each time.

I feel very fortunate for growing up in a house where creativity was not just encouraged but rewarded. I grew up writing magical stories and children’s books and poetry, and then when I “grew up” some more I went to college and studied filmmaking and literature, both completely scary degrees to have in the “real world” but they made me happy. In all of this time my parents never tried to persuade me otherwise. I heard the typical murmurings of how little money I’d be able to make with those degrees, but my mom would always respond by saying “Then you don’t know my girl…”, and so I felt validated.

When photography came into my life in a big way, I had a lot to consider. There were people telling me that it was unwise to jump so wholeheartedly into something as slippery as photography. They said I would never know where my paycheck would come from, and questioned me about specific money-making plots. I was both critical about that way of thinking but also practical, and for a time I answered all of those questions and did so with fervor until I realized that it was no one’s business but my own (literally). I owed nothing to anyone. It was of no one else’s concern where my paychecks would come from or how it would work, save for my husband who is a part of me.

It is so easy to get caught up in other people’s opinions. And depending on our lifestyles, we may never have lived outside that opinion bubble. I know that I was quite sheltered growing up, and that wasn’t because of my parents, it was because of me. I liked being sheltered and having the same people around me and being close to what I knew. My sister was the opposite, completely free-spirited and wild. Because I preferred living life that way back then, I only knew the opinions of those around me. I didn’t understand enough about life.

But when photography came around something shifted. I understood, almost instantly, what was at stake. It wasn’t that no one approved of my photography; on the contrary, they were very supportive. It was that, logistically, they were truly concerned for my well-being if I quit my steady job and went into…the arts. (said with suspenseful music in the background).

I suddenly had a passion so strong that doing anything but photography felt as though it would kill my spirit, and I value that above most else. So I did quit my job, and it took a lot of long conversations with those I cared about, and zero conversations with those who it wasn’t worth having.

When I began exploring different themes in my work, I would hear feedback about the content of my images. They are too dark. They are too creepy. There is too much nudity. This and that and no one could always be happy. But the thing is this: I was always happy. I was creating what I loved, which is no concern of anyone else. I think that we often forget that just because someone has an opinion, that opinion is not fact. It does not need to govern your life.

This can be exceptionally difficult when it comes to loved ones. For example, I met my husband when I was 16. We’ve been together ever since. He and I are joined in every way I can think of and when he has an opinion, I listen to it because I respect him. It can be difficult to understand when to take someone’s opinion to heart and I think one basic question needs to be asked: is your relationship worth sacrificing for the art? Some people are worth losing over this debate. That is plain and simple, and I don’t mean it in any negative way. There are people that bring us down in the world, people who we are better off without. We need not be friends with everyone, and it is best to surround yourself with those who will lift you up.

You are the only one in control of your happiness. If art makes you happy, you have a duty to perform. To keep that locked inside is a disservice to your well-being and to all of those who you might inspire. Art is rarely kept to oneself. These days it is shared, and because of that, inspiration is everywhere. Take what you love and share it. Others will love it simply because you do. And remember above all else that your opinion should be regarded at the highest level. It is not up to anyone else to inspire you, motivate you, encourage you, or support what you do; you need to believe in yourself first. And when you believe in yourself, others are sure to follow.