This image was meant to be exactly what it is, but it wasn’t meant to be what I tried to force it to be. I set out to create a new photo series all about death. I had personal reasons for doing that, but that story is for another day, maybe months from now or maybe years (or maybe never). I wanted to break down the barrier between the living and the dead. I wanted to confront what scares us most about death and in doing so, become better acquainted with my own mortality.

Alongside an idea is always a technique, or in other words, the physical manifestation of that idea. How was I going to portray death? What would the series look like? How would it come across?

At the time that I began the series, I was in a transitory period as an artist. What I didn’t realize was that it was just the beginning of a two-year struggle to find my new voice and vision. Back then, I thought I knew exactly what I needed to do to take my art to the next level.

High budget productions, ornate sets, and models.

So I started building a new series on paper, writing about it and casting models. I rented a few abandoned locations and decided to give myself a one year timeline to finish this new body of work.

As I went on, it became clear to me that something wasn’t right. I liked the images, spent thousands of dollars making them, and on some level, was proud of myself for creating in ways that were a bit foreign to me.

But on the other side..the IN-side, I knew it wasn’t right. It can be very difficult to admit, after so much money has been invested, that something isn’t working. But that is the conclusion I eventually drew after 1.5 years of working on this series.

The problem wasn’t with the series, but with the way I was creating it. I realized I stubbornly tried on different ways of creating, hoping in the process to find my new style and vision. The truth of the situation was that I was relying on visuals and techniques that I thought would make my art better, not that I actually wanted to utilize.

It also turns out that I needed that whole year and a half to reconnect with myself. I had a very scary, very honest talk, alone in my garage, about what this series should actually look like. And when I reassessed, I learned that I needed to go back to basics. That the simple, inexpensive techniques that have always served me well would serve me well again. That I didn’t have to change everything about my creation process to do something groundbreaking.

But, that’s for another time. For now, I want to share the story of this image with you.

I contacted my friend Kyna to do a photo shoot. She was 6 months pregnant at the time. It felt like harmony as I pursued a series about death and she was about to bring life into the world. I crafted an image around her, deciding to play up the themes of life and death.

In a really scary moment, I decided to ask her a question that I hoped wouldn’t offend. I asked her if we might create art using her father’s ashes. He passed away a few years ago and I thought, with new life and old, that we could create something really meaningful.

Here’s the thing about being a totally out-there, weird artist: you attract like-minded people. She didn’t flinch at the idea, but instead welcomed it openly.

I booked a location, drove 3+ hours away to find it, and then took a 1 hour truck ride on the most treacherous road to get to the house. It was off-roading to the extreme. But finally, we got within a mile and hiked the rest of the way.

I spent the day before gathering ashes. I went around to some local campsites and asked if I could clean out the fire pits, which the park managers happily agreed to let me do (that way they didn’t have to do it!) and I took those ashes with me to our location. They were HEAVY, which was unexpected, but we somehow managed to hike with them up to the house.

I scattered the whole room that I chose to shoot in with ashes, and then set up tall black candles around the space. In addition I set up a light outside the window to create streaks of light, and kicked up dust to create a hazy effect in the room. I also bought an old bassinet for the background.

When it was time to shoot I asked our helpers to leave so that we could have privacy. It was time for her father’s ashes. It was years working to heal through his passing, and this was one more step in that process. She had the box next to her, and I asked her to take some ashes and wipe them across her eyes. She did, and it worked, but we needed more. Eventually holding the pose and getting the fabric to stay up was too much to keep together, so she asked me to spread the ashes.

I felt such an interesting feeling of connection and disconnection in that moment. Connected, because I was permitted such a sacred rite. Disconnected, because I could feel the bone pieces in the ashes as I wiped them across her eyes and I recognized what I was doing in its component parts; that something can carry memories, and therefore be alive in one way, but be entirely inanimate, too.

We finished the photo shoot and packed up as best we could. Hiking down the mountain, I remember feeling such awe for her and the amount of vulnerability to do a photo shoot such as this one.

She thanked me for creating something so personal to her, but for me, it was universal.

We all touch death. We all touch life. In that, we are all connected. She gave me a gift that day that I will never forget, and it was the gift of facing death (and life) in a way that most people don’t get to. To hold the remnants of a person in my hand and to be entrusted to create art out of it. To be told, through willing participation, that my vision is worthy of creation.

That is the gift that this image gives me. And to my dear friend, whose baby girl is nearly a year old now, I thank profusely for participating in and helping to create this story.

Though this image won’t live it’s life as part of the series I intended for it, I’m learning that sometimes the things we create have a way of settling into exactly the place they were meant to be.

—

Photographed in January 2018 on a Sony A7RII + 24mm lens.

My friends, I struggle a lot with sharing technical information. Not because I want to keep it a secret, but because I prefer the focus be put on creativity over tools, on imagination over technology. However, I also love Love LOVE to share as much as I can with others, technical or otherwise, so that we can all be elevated.

This week I answered a swelling call I’ve been receiving to go into a little more depth about editing. This video is a juicy ten minutes of Photoshop explanation, philosophy, and the editing of a new image.

I am self taught in Photoshop with the aid of my husband for the extra-technical bits.

This is how I believe I was able to teach myself Photoshop:

I only researched exactly what I needed. I never went to workshops or watched classes because that was information overload for me. Instead, I put an image in Photoshop. Then, I decided the one most important thing that the image needed, and I searched for that one tool. Little by little I was able to learn Photoshop, and here I am today.

If you are just starting out – with anything – remember to take small steps. They add up to a sum greater than we think possible. Nothing is beyond our reach. I have to believe that because my life is based on it. Little by little, our reach grows; we are expansive.

In the video you will see me use all of my favorite Photoshop tools, like curves, lasso, and feather. They will help me to…

Composite extra hands into my picture
Expand my frame
Add fog to the background
Change the light and color

…and more.

If you want to learn how I edit in depth, I encourage you to check out my online classes.

I get a lot of requests to put full-length editing tutorials online. While I totally understand the request, for now I’m pointing you to my online tutorials.

Why? Because I put months and months of my heart/soul/energy/time/money into them to make them as comprehensive and perfect as I could for you, and in turn, it allows me to be supported in my art. I thank you so much for buying them and showing me that my weird vision is worthwhile.

What is your favorite tool to create with?
How often do you actively seek to learn something new?

Model: Steph Perez

Let me talk about something that is taboo: success. I have been successful in my career. Mind you, I was also saying this when I had not made any money yet, so my opinion may not be of sound mind. I remember when I got my first gallery show. I lost money, no one bought anything, and I had just quit my job with the starry-eyed belief that I was about to be wealthy from my art. Despite that not happening, I felt successful in all the ways that ever mattered to me. I have always felt trapped by success, too. When I created my very first image I remember feeling indebted to that vision. I believed that I had to continue creating like that to remain popular, successful. As time went on that feeling only got stronger. My art evolved, but safely.

As I found more success (again, this is very subjective), I found more trappings holding me back from where I knew I could go. As I made more money I felt reliant on those ways of earning. As I saw reactions to my art that were positive I felt a pull to create more of that positive feeling. As I became known for something, I felt fraudulent should I change directions. This is what no one talks about with success – how very suffocating it can be.

That last statement is precisely why this is a taboo subject – what about people who aren’t successful? “Are you so elitist that you’re going to talk about success?” Before those statements get shouted about, let me share why this is so important.

1. I want you to succeed massively.
2. I believe we all succeed in big and small ways. (The ways I have succeeded will be big to some and small to others, it is a matter of perception).
3. I want to redefine success in a healthy way.

Over the past 8 years of business, I have gone from losing money to earning money, from creating art that I love to art that I didn’t love and back again. I’ve experienced genuinely incredible people who have helped me and genuinely horrendous acts of selfishness. I’ve been lost and found so many times I should create a box on my shelf labeled “Lost & Found” to make things easier. I’ve been obsessively committed to my work and I’ve pushed it away.

Over those 8 years of running a business, I’ve learned a lesson that only just sank in. I was 22 years old when I became self-employed and plowed forward to carve a career. I thought that what I did in that moment would define the rest of my life. I thought that the choices I made then were the choices I would carry with me until I died. I had no perspective. I had no sense of the world and how massive it is, or how willing the world is to forget. I thought I had made my bed and I was prepared to lie in it. And I was so, so happy doing that. I love the choices I made, I love the life I live, and I am not ashamed to say that it is wonderful. But, it is incomplete.

We contain multitudes, said Whitman. We contain multitudes that allow us to be/do/see/explore/create so many things. And herein lies the problem with success: it tricks us into thinking that we have found the one thing we are good at and that we must gently rest in that place forever.

I am not accustomed to resting, just ask anyone who knows me.

Joesph Campbell found that all stories are the same – the hero goes on a journey, discovers something about him/herself and the world, battles his/her dragons and then comes full circle to tell about it. And then that hero goes again on another journey, and another, and another. What we are doing right now in our lives does not have to be what we always do. In fact, I would argue, it shouldn’t be. There are too many unexplored curiosities, too many multitudes.

The fear in exploring unknown places is in thinking we will leave behind what we used to be. Never, ever is that true, nor a possibility. We take what we have learned and done and sew that into the fabric of our new lives.

I am still happily a photographer, but one day I may not be. Who can say? What I do know is that all I have learned from this path so far will bleed into the next, and I will be better for it.

You may feel that where you are in your life right now is where you will always be. You may feel like you are trapped or held back in some way. I hope you will join me in recognizing that our worth is not necessarily tied up in what we do and how we define ourselves; it is evident in our willingness to change and the belief we must have in our abilities to do so.

What is success, then, if not money or status?

1. Success is the forward momentum of your dreams.
2. Success is recognizing when your dreams are changing, and chasing them anyway.
3. Success is moving boldly on your path without concern for who follows you.

This is the lesson I have learned: Rarely are people buying the art, they are buying the soul of the art. We put labels on our life so that we can better manage them, like “photographer”, “educator”, “writer”. Where, though, do those labels come from? What makes us choose one over another? If we back away from the labels and ask ourselves why we are drawn to those things that we do, the answer is clear. If you constantly follow your WHY, your greatest passion and the reasons that come with it, your life can never be defined by a single label. When WHY is more important that HOW and WHAT, you have found your genius, your muse, your inspiration. You have found yourself.

I took a trip to Argentina last week. For the past 10 years I have talked about traveling to Patagonia and it finally happened. I went with no intentions of making images there. I needed to be entirely outside of my norm. And, after I finished hiking and exploring, the most interesting thing happened. I wanted to create. I deeply desired to play with my camera and make something, even though I had expressly given myself permission not to.

This is the interesting part of allowing yourself to do what you want or be who you want to be: you will always end up completely, authentically YOU. I found myself in this creepy, run-down Airbnb apartment. Though it was a little undesirable to sleep in, it awakened my passion. I had just seen glaciers and snow-capped mountains, scenery like I’ve never witnessed before, yet there I was, in this little creepy apartment, and all I wanted was to create there. Just as I started out in my own small, rather disgusting little apartment, I found my creativity awakened.

Life has a funny way of pulling you back to your roots, of making you question why you do what you do. I found my answer sitting in that bed. I create to show beauty in darkness, and I’ve been learning all about how to create beauty through a camera. But now it is time for the darkness, and oh, I’ve been learning darkness, too. I’m ready to create. I don’t know what to call what I’ll do next. I haven’t figured it out.

But it’s December, and I’m sharpening my knife.

Day 20 and things got WEIRD today. Seriously, really weird. I did a lot of writhing in front of my camera for today’s video to see how much I could get my skin to move over my bones. I also edited what felt like 92,512 hands onto my body. In reality it was only 40.

At the center of all the weirdness is a desire to create something personal, unique, and telling of the human psyche. As I was brainstorming for ideas today, I kept coming back to these themes:

Entrapment
Parts of Whole
Multitudes

Why? I asked myself what about them made me come back again and again. I believe that analyzing our thoughts leads to important art, so I try to ask myself why all the time. I had a vision of this image, a person made up of hands – holding her together? Tearing her apart? Trapping her? Releasing her? I didn’t care much about pinning down the final meaning, as long as it contained all of those meanings in the final image. I try not to answer questions such as those very closely. I don’t want to know, because I selfishly want to be both author and reader, onlooker and creator. I want to experience my own images the way someone else would; not just personally, but from the air, a hundred feet away.

My life will not be defined by if I succeeded, but by if I tried. This is me trying, reaching out to you and showing you who I am; not that superficial person that you might bump into on the street, who says “how are you” but really wants to ask “what is your passion?”, but the one who dives straight into those questions without worry.

Are you trapped?
Are you being torn apart?
Are you being held together?

Those are the questions I desire to know answers to, so this is my art, asking those questions.

How many people live inside of us? How many versions of ourselves are waiting to be born, grow their voice, and take control of what they (and they alone) know is coming? Some of us wait and then struggle fiercely against the loss of that person we have known so intimately. For me, she dances away easily as though off to a place she’ll never come back from. I don’t mind watching her go. But others of us hold on to our skin so tightly, suffocating it, willing it to please, please stay where you are and be the same and never change.

It hurts us to become someone else, especially when who we always thought we would be is a distant memory kept alive by pure hope. We feel our skin unzipping to that slow uneasy click, click, click and we reach to hold it together. Our compulsions are too empty of meaning.

I think that there might be nothing more inspiring to me than using a simple space in a creative way. From the first time I picked up my camera I began standing in front of white walls (which was all I had, hence the decision) to make my images. It forced me to think of idea upon idea to try and fill the space and make it more interesting than the last. I found myself very frequently using my body and simple props or costumes to fill the space, paying attention to body form and texture as a means of communicating an emotion.

This lead me to finding the simplest Photoshop tools to be able to make my subject pop. My methods were, as many people would tell me along the way, sometimes inefficient or outdated, but it was mine and it was fun. I loved creating in the way that I did, and still do. It might not be the number-one-best-way-as-trademarked-by-“professionals” but I love creating, so I consider it a success.

This is the point of White Wall Wednesday. It doesn’t matter what you have to create with, or what your methods are. Yes, there are things to be learned by everyone at all levels. Yes, my Photoshop skills have evolved as I have grown as an artist. Yes, I will continue to find new ways of creating. But for now, in this moment, it is important that we embrace who we are and where we are in our craft. Never let anyone make you feel inferior because you haven’t been creating as long as they have, or if your methods are different. Are you having fun? Yes? Good. Stick with it and shine.

Leave me a comment if you found something helpful, interesting,
or if you created your own White Wall Wednesday art!