Let’s talk about the artist’s evolution. As you continue in your craft – grow, change, repeat – your art will grow with you. It will evolve and expand and collapse. You will hate it and love it and hate it again. You will want to change it, and you will, and you’ll regret that sometimes, and you’ll move forward.

I’ve been a photographic artist for 10 years. That’s a DECADE, people! And in my fairly young life, that’s a third.

In a fortunate turn of events, I’ve also had an audience for those 10 years that I’ve been an artist. From just a couple of weeks into creating up until now, I’ve had people looking at, and commenting on, my work.

Which makes it understandable as to why I’ve heard this comment more times than is countable:

“I prefer the old you.”

In my career this has meant anything from “the you of 10 years ago” to “the you of last week”. And it used to bother me.

Can’t they see I’m GROWING?!

It doesn’t matter if you have a big audience or not. Anyone from your mother to a stranger on the Internet will likely tell you the same exact words sooner or later. Here’s why:

1. People change.
2. People hate change.

…And we all have opinions.

I’ve had periods of what I consider really, really bad art-making in my life.

2013. What a bad year. I look back at that year of my art and cringe! It was so flat, so boring, so not where I wanted to go.

But I had to make that art. I had to do it to move myself forward. To experience, to know that it wasn’t me.

I used to get upset when people told me they prefer a different style that I used to make. I thought it made me less of an artist. I’d second-guess my artistic direction. I’d let it consume me.

Imagine a friend calls you up and they say: You know, I really prefer your personality from a couple of years ago. This one just isn’t cutting it for me. I don’t enjoy being around you as much anymore.

That’s basically the conversation around art and change.
(That might have been a tad dramatic).

So it makes sense that feelings get hurt and that it stings a little to hear it.

As an artist, you want to yell back: “Don’t you see?! I’m doing the best I can!”

But you can’t, without sounding paranoid.

The fact is that we are doing the best we can. Even if you haven’t created in months, that’s the best you can do for yourself right now. You might look back in a year at this time and recognize just how much you needed a break.

Maybe you feel your style shifting and it scares you. Let it, but keep going. You never know where that will lead.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve made some art that I don’t like. And I don’t blame you for not liking either. But that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t worth making.

Perhaps the most difficult part of being an artist with an audience is knowing that, inevitably, someone will tell you that you were better before. And they’re not necessarily wrong. I value every opinion. I don’t disregard someone because they think differently from how I do.

But I do know that the bad art is as necessary as the good. That where I am now is where I’m meant to be. And that where I’m going will remain fulfilling if I listen to myself…

…All opinions valid, none as much as my own.

There was a long period of time when I felt like everything I made had to be amazing. Screw that.

I’m so far past that I think I might be going in the opposite direction. I liken it to choosing friends when you’re really young.

At first, you want everyone to be your friend. You have an insatiable desire to be liked. And you quickly learn what behaviors are widely accepted and which are not, so perhaps, you adopt the behaviors that reward you with praise.

And then you realize how exhausting it is to keep up that many friendships, and how unmanageable it is to spread yourself so thin. You start to get anxious over presenting yourself in the best way possible, and you worry that if your friends see you for who you are – imperfect – they won’t like you any more.

And some day, you rebel against that. You clean closet. You get rid of friends that don’t accept you for your weirdness and your flaws.

Well folks, here we are. I cleaned out my closet a while back. Since then, I’ve been sharing my failed images. I’ve been sharing the times when I hate creating, or nothing goes right. I’ve been sharing those moments of sheer panic, frustration, and anxiety. I share everything. Everything art-related, it’s all out there.

I’ve stopped caring if you (the broad You), think I’m a bad artist or a good one, or an artist at all. I don’t care if you hate my art, share my art, wish my art had never been made. I don’t care if you make fun of me, think I’m weird, or any other mundane, idiotic thing someone might think.

Because honestly, it is boring. And it is silly. And it’s not worth our time – mine or yours.

So if you’re here, it’s likely because you’re weird too. Because you accept me for who I am. Because we’re weirdos and we love it, and hey world, we don’t care.

Speaking of that long period of time where I did care what people thought, seeing as it took a while for me to be as empowered in my weirdness as I am now: I used to be ashamed when I made something that wasn’t great.

This new image I made the other day isn’t my best. But I love it. It satisfied a primal need to create. I wanted to make something where before there was nothing. One of the greatest and most interesting things about humans is our desire to play God – to create where once there was nothing. In so many ways. Artists are the obvious example.

So I made this thing. It’s a self-portrait covered in hands. I’ve done that before. I touch on this a lot in my voicemail. And when I finished it, I thought, “Hmph. It looks a lot like other images I’ve made. It’s not special. I shouldn’t share this.”

And then I realized what I just did. I just degraded something I made simply because it isn’t the most fresh and new thing. Simply because I thought YOU might be bored with it.

And when I say YOU, I mean the YOU of the Internet that steps on artists who don’t fit their vision. People who think that art is made for them, personally. People who get bored too easily because that’s the time we live in. And the people who don’t care how fulfilled an artist is by their own work.

That is not you, because you’re still reading this. (Well done, by the way. I ramble).

I loved making this picture.
I love this picture.
I love creating. Everytime. No matter the outcome.

I’m so glad that I’m intentionally making time for myself to create no matter what. No matter the whim or inspiration; no matter the hang-worthiness of it. No matter. No matter.

And that is what I wish you for you. To create without worry. To create because you must. To create because you feel a primal urge to make something out of nothing. To create, no matter what.

No matter.

No matter.

Inspiration & moons,
Brooke

We are almost into June! That means that the first half of the year is almost over. In some ways I don’t like counting down or up throughout the year, always trying to get to the next big event. But in other ways it serves as a great way of checking in with ourselves to ask the simple but profound question:

Am I doing what I love?

I made a vow this year that I would not create unless I felt compelled in some way to do so. That means no more creating because I think I should be, or taking pictures because I need to keep up with social media, or to keep myself relevant. If it doesn’t serve me, I don’t spend my energy on it. I’ve learned, slowly, to value my energy – physically and mentally – so that it truly serves my greatest purpose rather than serving someone else. When we let ourselves be fulfilled, we can better serve others.

Looking at the images I’ve created so far this year (plus three that I can’t share yet!) I feel energized. I don’t think I’ve achieved all of what I wanted to do yet (for instance, creating a more vibrant color palette, and incorporating locations I’ve never seen before). I do see progression though, specifically in “Percussion” and the two images following, since they utilize techniques and visuals I have never tried before. There are some “old hat” images, like three underwater pictures, but that isn’t necessarily bad. Sometimes we as artists feel like if we aren’t changing (often confused with challenging) then we aren’t truly creating art – but to me, sometimes the things that make you happy stick with you, and there is no shame in manifesting that through your work.

How do you feel your portfolio is shaping up this year?
Do you see a clear progression or style emerging for your 2016 portfolio?
Are you creating as much or as little as you want?
Does what you create reflect who you are or does it reflect someone else – a client, peers, etc.?

If I had to describe my work so far this year in keywords I would say: interaction/motion, isolated colors, searching, self-portraiture, ambiance, whimsy, feminine. 

If I had to describe what I want my work to look like in keywords: dark, other-worldly, conceptual…so those are things to work on!

All of my 2016 images are available as fine art prints and are represented by the galleries listed on my website. 

2016 Sizes/Editions:

A lot (and I mean an alarming lot) of people I know feel like they have no significance in this world. I’m not saying they are depressed necessarily, but that they simply don’t know what they are meant to do. They try out hobbies here and there but never commit to a passion. They complain about not knowing what they are good at without really trying. And the biggest thing connecting them all? They are unique individuals, but none of them see themselves that way.

I think there are two problems at play: laziness and lies. The biggest lie is that we are told we are meant to do something special. How is this a lie? Because it indicates that we are meant to do one singular thing with our time; we are meant to find our greatest passion and the thing we are best at and transform that into a life-changing event. It puts pressure on us to narrow down our being into a singularity, when in fact no one is so one dimensional. We should be encouraged to find anything that makes our hearts sing and to pursue all of those things no matter if they ever change the world or not. Success takes momentum, and we get there by acting on even the smallest things that give us joy and letting it build.

How are we lazy? Simple. We rarely really and truly try to find what makes us special. We are spoiled into thinking our talents and passions come to us rather than us having to chase after them. We have hobbies that are fun but we don’t ask ourselves how we can take that further. We have things that we love doing but we assume we can’t make a living at it. We are chronic low-ballers. We choose a life free of risk in the hope that safety will provide us with what we want. We expect everything on a timetable, and that isn’t all our fault. We are taught what we are supposed to do by certain age brackets and if we don’t make it, we think we failed.

There is no time limit to finding your worth. Take as much time as you need.

The biggest life-changers are those who are multi-faceted. They channel their interests into serving a greater good.

Take Oprah for example. Would anyone believe that her greatest passion is hosting a talk show? Of course not! Her passion seems to be bettering others through honesty, healing and health. She has a greater mission, one that all of her endeavors aim to satisfy.

I won’t put myself in Oprah’s category, but my interests are photography, writing and filmmaking (so far!). Are those my great life calling? Definitely not. I want to inspire others to create the lives of their dreams through imagination and fearless art. My interests serve my greatest passion.

If you are someone who feels insignificant, you might be questioning right now how anyone gets over that hump and feels that they have something to offer. I promise you I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, being told that I was going to change the world (still working on that, though). For me, the proof is in the action. I can talk about doing, or think about changing, or want to be different, but until I do it the rest is just folly. The moment I started creating the art I wanted to create, with the message I wanted to send, people started responding. When we find our authentic voice it is not easy for others to ignore it.

My biggest fear in life is not living up to my potential. I would rather fail countless times than get to the end of my life never truly having tried. People lead by action. You doing something that takes risk or moves you closer to your passion is a mirror for everyone around you. It makes them want to take action and achieve their passions. The best gift you can give to someone is to simply do. It is the most powerful word in the English language to me. DO. It is an action, a command, a calling. It is what happens when we stop making excuses or believing the lies we’re fed. It is our journey. Chase it.

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Image: “Finding Your Place Among the Stars”, self-portrait, May 2016.
Available as limited edition prints on fine art paper, 20×20 inches & 40×40 inches.
Contact for more details about print purchases or image licensing.