“In the dark wilderness we found each other.”
(Illustration by Gillian Gamble.)
(All images by the incomparable Kim Winey.)

I have a lump in my throat when my attendees start arriving to Promoting Passion. My empathy and anxiety intermingle and I’m sick at the thought of hosting a convention and the possibility that someone, even in the smallest way, won’t be happy. Or moved. Or changed. I expect so much of myself that I project my insecurities on to everyone participating. I think I’m going to vomit from the nerves.

The first bus of arrivals gets stuck in the sand after a late departure, traffic delays, a broken A/C, and more. I’m afraid they’re going to miss dinner. I chase the bus half a mile down the road until we’re both sunk in sand. I knock on the bus door and the driver lets me in, and when I pop my head up and yell at everyone the biggest and warmest welcome I can, I feel that I am home.

The energy engulfs me. The hugs start rolling in. I pat each person I see on the shoulder to acknowledge them. And it doesn’t stop until 2am. I hug 160 people. I try to make each person feel seen. We begin icebreaker games and I force everyone to talk to strangers, to share intimate information, to break down the walls. The desert is not a place for walls and barriers but for openness and connection. We end the night in a huge circle under the night sky. I make a statement and whoever agrees takes a step into the circle. We see right in front of us the ways in which we are alike. We share openly. There are tears. (And so many more to come.)

Day one of Promoting Passion officially begins. I only slept 3 hours the night before but I shoot out of bed early and run for the main hall, anxious to check on every person at breakfast and to make sure everyone feels taken care of. I’m so early that I don’t see anyone around, so I take that moment to breathe and settle into my role as leader.

At orientation I set the tone. I ask everyone, for just 3 days, to make every decision out of bravery. We feel the importance of our gathering, but not everyone gets it yet. The veterans of PPC know. They nod their heads with a sly smile on their faces. They know what’s coming. Workshops begins, we rush around and make sure all the speakers are in place. There is no time for food. I try to brainstorm ways of making each person feel recognized. The workshops are flawless. I’ve never worked with such a professional and kind group of assistants and speakers.

I get bad personal news and I do my best to make everything okay but I need time to myself, so I sink down in my car and I breathe as deeply as I can and I remember that despite anything happening to me, I can’t give that energy to my friends. I move past it quickly.

We listen to Joel McKerrow give a speech. Not for the first time he moves us to tears. I host a roundtable discussion about grant writing – but, nothing is ever about something so topical. We cry together as we acknowledge our insecurities. We are bound to each other by honesty.

Our first panel discussion rolls around and I make up silly questions about the earth exploding and aliens invading and what would you do and create and everyone laughs and I feel again like I am home. And just like that day one ends and my friends head off to bed and I lay there late at night worried about everyone’s well being and make myself sick over it, but how do you stop caring when you know that you have the power to make a difference for someone?

Day 2 and I have my own workshop to teach. Forty of us go to yoga outside in the morning sun and we laugh and stretch and feel as though we’re moving like one entity. My workshop is a beautiful gathering of honest expression and while we shoot and edit, everyone knows its not about that. It’s never about that.

Three past attendees (Jen, Michlynn, and Ted) share their personal stories and journeys, a way of telling everyone we are all on a level playing field and acknowledging that there are some incredible stories in our group. No one is better than anyone else. We are so moved by their stories and many hugs are shared after by people who related so much to what they said.

Sara Lando shares a personal project with us in her lecture about the art she created before her mother’s death, and after. She tells us that her mother gave permission for Sara to share those images with people because expression and story is so important in healing. She created after her mother’s death too, but she doesn’t share that. The dead can’t give consent. Yet again we understand that the images themselves are not important – the spirit of the creation process is what heals us and connects us. We are all moved by her words to tears.

We create again. I cover my sister-in-law in clay and flour and paint. We make a massive mess, but we don’t care. We let ourselves get caked in flour; we laugh hysterically.

And then another panel discussion. More aliens and exploding planets, and we learn so much about the speakers and their journeys and suddenly the long, long path we think we’re on gets shorter and we understand that success is not born of talent but of perseverance, and we are settled into ourselves.

That night I’m late locking up in the main hall because I’m entranced with my friend Devin playing the piano. It is a gorgeous night and the music is soft and I’m starting to become less anxious, less worried about everyone. We’re settling in. One of the attendees, Bryan, comes to play the piano and he shares with us his singing and songwriting talent after we beg to hear it. He has stage fright, he says. I suggest we make a music video. Devin is into it. Sara is into it. Oscar is into it. And suddenly we’re frantically collaborating and we’re in our creative flow and this is happening. We’re choreographing and blocking and singing and everything is perfect.

We meet at 6am the next day to film at sunrise. We make a music video in an hour.

I start my day and everything continues without flaw. My assistants make this possible, especially my best friend KD and my sister Jessy. They show an unprecedented level of care and commitment to my baby. They constantly make sure I am fed and that I have space to breathe and help everyone with their every need. They are organized beyond measure. They make this conference run.

That day I give a lecture. I feel the power of it. I see people crying as my throat tightens around certain subjects. I can’t speak them easily but it comes out of me and I am impassioned in a way I’ve never been before. Because this year, I’ve found my truth and I am living it in the messiest and most authentic way possible. I feel supported by 160 pairs of hands and it makes me feel alive in a way I cannot express.

I need to give this back to them.

I host a confidence collaboration. I tell about 80 people in a room to face the wall and talk to the wall and block out everyone else. I ask them to tell the wall what they don’t like about themselves. Then what they do like. Then to pick a word that can empower them. I hear tears and I hear sighs and I hear giggles at how silly this seems. But everyone does it. And we settle into that moment. We come back together as a group and the hugs are endless and the tears are so necessary and we breathe together a deep breath. Later I’m told that it was an extremely poignant and important moment at PPC this year.

That night we have our closing ceremony. As I picked up the mic to start, someone came and got me to tell me to look outside. I see something in the night sky. We realize what it is. I rush inside and scream as loud as I can for everyone to grab a camera and get outside. 160 of us do this. We stand in the pitch dark desert looking up at the stars – and, by complete coincidence, at the Tesla SpaceX rocket launching nearby. It creates a rainbow ball in the sky. Trails of ethereal light blaze behind it. It is a spectacle I could never imagine. We are in awe. Many of us hold hands and lock arms and give hugs. It feels like a sign of brilliance.

Finally, after it exits our atmosphere, we go back inside. We begin a create-off, where four of us have 8 minutes to create something based on the same theme. I go first and I run around like a chicken and somehow I manage to create an image that I don’t hate around the theme Monkeys in Space. It’s a long story.

Joel the poet goes. Gillian the illustrator goes. Bella the photographer goes. And then we are judged, and Joel wins. I have never heard such loud laughter from a room. Our escapades were ridiculous, and the perfect release of intense emotion from the week.

And then we get serious again. I ask everyone to think of that word that they are going to use as a mantra to empower themselves. Then I ask them to scream that word as loud as they possible can. I feel the vibrations of it in my feet through the ground. It is frightening and beautiful and I think I won’t be able to hold my tears back for a single moment more as I realize how many people have just accepted their power.

I decide, in honor of the Sony Alpha Female grant, that I am going to give away my own, much smaller, PPC grants. All week I’ve been asking attendees and assistants who has touched them and made a difference in their lives. I consider this myself all week. And then I choose three people to receive the grants. It is a massive surprise and I watch three women come to the stage, crying at being acknowledged for their brilliance.

Benny reads his story to the group. Not a single person has a dry eye. Benny is an artist who majorly effected many people’s lives by allowing art to save his own. It is so powerful.

Joel reads a poem called Welcome Home. We cry again. Do you know what it feels like to be accepted into a new family, one that frees you and lifts you up? It is a homecoming. It is powerful beyond measure. We all know it and we won’t let go.

It’s time to end. I tell everyone to give thanks to the assistants and models and sponsors. We can’t do it without them. We CANNOT do it without them.

And then KD comes to the stage, just as I’m finishing the convention. She takes the microphone. She tells everyone that I created this conference alone. That I had no help this year. That all the decisions were mine and that my energy and my spirit brought everyone together and that is the magic glue at Promoting Passion. And I wonder if this sounds idiotic to everyone, because I know in my heart that I did nothing alone – I had the power of 160 individuals who needed this conference spurring me on. I had friends to lean on.

And then they stand. All 160 of my family. They stand and they cheer and they send me so much energy that I am moved beyond tears. I cover my face and cry and lend my soul to them to carry while I cannot carry it myself. Sometimes it is so heavy.

I spent the past year planning Promoting Passion. I worked myself so hard. I cried so many times. I hated so many minutes of it. I doubted I could impact people in the way that they needed. But in that moment, I knew none of that was important. I had impacted people. And those people impacted other people. And the gravity of that moment was a weight that lifted off of me. It worked. We were changed. We were changed.

Thank you to the sponsors of Promoting Passion. These are the people who believe in a vision outside of photography, who invest in creativity, innovation, and community:

And for the amazing donations (over $8,000!) to give away to people at Promoting Passion: Microsoft, Sony, WHCC, X-Rite, Think Tank, 3 Legged Thing.

How do you write about an experience so complex and impactful that the mention of it brings tears to your eyes? How should I explain a dream and a reality rolled into one, such that it gives weight to the significance of the dream and the dream of the reality? This year I hosted my third Promoting Passion convention. I named my blog after my favorite pairing of words – Passion, because it evokes a primal and I daresay sacred emotion within, one that perpetuates our need for meaning in our lives, and Promoting, because without this word the former becomes one-sided. If we don’t promote our passion, we lose the chance to inspire others through our craft – and life.

Promoting Passion is simple: gather creative individuals in one place to share a common idea, the idea that our lives are vastly different, but our emotions, our desires and our dreams are the same; that we can engage and encourage one another by example, and that instead of focusing on gear and technique we could focus on what really matters at the end of our lives, and that is how much we loved what we did with our time.

Promoting Passion is my home.

How many of you can say that you have experienced deep, meaningful, and lifelong relationships formed in the span of three days? How many of you can say that you actively, without boundaries or ties, give yourself over to growth? This is what 100+ of us did this year in the middle of a reddening forest in New York.

I ran frantically around Buffalo, NY in the days before, buying far too many supplies from Target and hoping that I was accurate in my assessment of things I needed for my attendees. I am a worrier by nature; I over-plan. I do not strive to under-promise and over-deliver. I over-promise and over-deliver. It is in my nature to be more and do more and make sure that I inspire others to be the same. I do not always succeed. But I do try, and in such a fashion I tried to create the best possible experience for my family of Creatives.

Things went wrong; they always do. And experiencing things going wrong is my way of growing, of being challenged, and of learning to be better than I was before. I remember the first year I hosted Promoting Passion – it was fall of 2015 and one of my speakers couldn’t come last minute. I had to figure out a plan overnight. I cried, I panicked, I shook, I collapsed in an unrecognizable version of myself. I was broken from the fear of letting people down. I felt barely able to manage myself.

Fast forward to this year, 2017, when one of my speakers couldn’t make it last minute. I panicked for about one minute, and then composed myself. I breathed deeply (a lesson I learned from my yoga practice), and I experienced two simultaneous emotions: confidence, and peace. What will happen will happen, and without belief in my abilities the right solution will not form. So, I believed I could make everything better, and I did. I let myself be human. More than that, I let others see me that way.

It rained on our bonfire, but we played games until it stopped. Our projector broke three times, but we worked around it with grace. A model got stuck floating in a boat in the middle of a lake, so I swam out to get her. Almost simultaneously a woman fainted and another sprained her ankle, and a quick ambulance ride and urgent care drive later, everyone felt taken care of and loved.

Things go wrong – it is not in our power to stop them, but it is in our power to grow from them. To give love in those moments. To be human and embrace it.

And so many things went right. A seemingly endless array of beauty and light and magic danced in front of my eyes. My speakers showed up ready to give, and every single one of them went to every single workshop and lecture. They sat with attendees at breakfast, lunch and dinner. They stayed up late by the fire talking to those who needed them most. They gave like I have not seen people give before. And even I, who felt so unworthy of even writing that first email to these people I have admired more than anyone, got hugs – they talked to me in such an honest way – and declared us friends, declared that we are soul-connected and better for knowing each other.

Unworthiness. What an interesting human emotion. That we can be so filled with multitudes and so certain, at times, that we are filled with nothing. This duality plays at my heart too often than I like to admit. Promoting Passion is about eliminating that feeling, or accepting it. Which of the two I am uncertain of at times, but either way, it is necessary and beautiful.

I called Vivienne Gucwa, one of my immediate soul-friends, to fill in at PPC this year. She came with a gorgeous story about her current artistic transformation and shared her willingness to shift. I worriedly hit send on an email to Ryan Muirhead, fearing his genius (as silly as that sounds), and he broke the room down into tears with his story of raw, honest human emotion. What drives us to create? Our very being, and all the mess that comes with that. I called upon Jesh De Rox to speak about connection, and I was moved to laughter and tears as he shared about the ways in which we find connection to our work, to others, and beyond.

My friend Dracorubio came to teach Photoshop, but under the technique was the idea that you can create anything if you can dream it. My heart Joel Robison did what he does best – shared himself, in his beautiful, bashful, open way. He showed how he works, how he thinks, and most importantly, how he gives…with his whole self, in ways that touched every single person there. Jessica Drossin came out to show us how you can build a life for yourself out of the vision of the world you are attracted to, and in doing so created some of the most beautiful images I have ever seen. Mindy McGinnis, a writer who I created book cover art for, came and gave us the deepest insights into how we experience imagery, symbolism, and how that relates to the world. Her way of seeing is significant and remarkable (in the truest sense of that word).

And finally, perhaps the most emotional and humorous part of Promoting Passion, was having Jeremie Saunders share his time with us – which, if you know anything about him, is limited. He shared how he lives with Cystic Fibrosis, how his life expectancy when we was growing up was 30 years of age, and how he is now 29.7 years old. He showed us how precious life is, how none of us know how much time we have, and how the combination of humor and passion can create a life worth living. What’s more is that he modeled for attendees, had important conversations, and even jumped into the pool with me so I could photograph him.

These humans are the most giving I have encountered, the most good-natured, the most concerned about making sure others are living their best lives – and that is not just a phrase or a silly motivational quote, that is their life’s dedication. That is their soul.

And, I think I can finally say, without looking down at myself, that it is also my mission. That my life is dedicated to giving other people the best lives possible.

My time is always so short at Promoting Passion – how do you give over 100 people your undivided attention in the span of three days to have conversations that are meaningful and intense? On the last night I finally got to let my guard down and not worry about everyone and everything, and I talked to so many people with so many stories. I met a new friend who had a quote of mine tattooed on his arm. I have my favorite writer’s quote tattooed on mine, and it was really moving to see that something I said could move someone that much.

There were many people who touched me, many people who showed their souls where often they put up walls, and they were gorgeous, and unrefined, and honest.

On that last night I got to speak to someone who I wanted to set aside proper time to talk to, someone who I had been conversing with for the last few months. After the lectures ended and I spent over an hour in a sea of people hugging each person closely, I snuck away to sit with this friend who I had wanted to spend time with. He and I had never had a proper conversation before in person. Immediately he started sharing a story with me, tears running down his face, holding my hands. He told me of a time when he tried to end his life, and how close he came to succeeding, and how, just at that moment, an image of mine flashed in front of his eyes and he felt connected.

And he didn’t jump.

And there we sat, one year after, at Promoting Passion. Our hands locked in each others, both of us crying the most sincere, life-changing tears; both of us needing the other in a profound way. And there we sat, embracing, until suddenly, we each had what we had come for. We felt released. And then we laughed, and smiled at each other, and I knew that something transpired between us that I could never properly describe.

Here is my message to you, my friends who maybe I have never met: There is hope in connection, there is soul in art, there is beauty in sadness and there is life in each of us that means more than we know. I share these experiences with you because my life is dedicated to the promoting of passion so that we may all be uplifted by the example of those who pursue what they love.

Life is too short not to.

Please allow me to thank our sponsors very publicly and widely for their contributions to Promoting Passion this year. Without their support I could not have created this event, and it is because of them that I grow in confidence every year that we are doing amazing things for our community.

WHCC
SONY
XRITE
FUNDY
ZEISS

The incomparable KIM WINEY took all of these incredible images in the span of 3 days. She is an amazing photographer/artist and friend, and I highly recommend you take a moment to give her some love for the beauty she brings into the world. She is based in PA and is hirable for her gorgeous photography services.