I’m in a small room in India – West Bengal. Outside the horns are blowing like crows, attacking. People are yelling down the street, their voices drowning together, indecipherable. This is a place that envelopes me the moment I step foot outside the airport, but it challenges me, too. The sounds, the people, the food, the smells, the stories. The stories.

When I listen closely through the mountainous shouts I hear cross-sections of lives; one man tells another to be careful crossing the street, not through his words, but through his body language. A woman kisses her child while a hundred people push past her, tenderness going unnoticed.

In my workshop I’m teaching self-expression through photography and movement, aided by Kolkata Sanved. The young women that sit in the room with me have pasts that I cannot imagine. I try, but it feels wrong to imagine my life with the same difficulties; disrespectful, somehow. I am ill-equipped to feel what they feel, at least precisely. My life has been vastly different and that shows in every minutiae when I travel in India. In the ways that I get irritated by people bumping into me, when I feel exhausted by the crowds, and especially when I feel trapped by the buildings and pollution. That is life here, though, and I am unaccustomed, even after five years of coming.

Today in the workshop we are learning storytelling. I explain why this is important –  because, after all, their story is theirs. It is for them to tell, not me. I never felt comfortable photographing people whose lives have been so uniquely different from mine, using my way of telling stories to tell theirs. This is for them to share. Instead, I teach storytelling. I teach how to use a camera. I teach self-portraiture. I teach them how to tell their own stories.

And so they do, effortlessly.

Because storytelling is the culture here. This is a place where stories pile on top of stories so that every object, every location, is imbued with the deepest stories.

Even more than stories, though, is the hope that permeates.

I’m in the Kolkata Sanved office and day one of my workshop is almost over. We are talking about our stories, but not in literal terms. I never, ever ask someone to share their past. Instead, we speak in symbols, in emotions. I ask them to bring me an object that represents their past. We learn symbolism in art.

They bring me water, as a symbol for constantly moving. They bring me a rock, a symbol for heaviness. They bring me a dead tree, a symbol unto itself. A box, to show entrapment. A match, to show danger.

We photograph those objects, and they learn the camera.

I ask them to choose an emotion that represents how they feel now that they have had education, now that they have found safety. Shanti, they say: peace. Aasha: hope. Curiosity. Learning. Happy.

As I listen to them sharing a symbol from their past, I do not have to use a lot of imagination to understand where they come from: darkness to light. The story is there, the details are not important for me to hear.

As I hear them share their emotions, representing who they are now, I see the shift from sadness to joy.

Everyone that I meet here is so open.

YES, I have had hardship. BUT, now I am free.

This is not true for so many. This is why the power of self-expression is so vital. When we give voices to those who feel they cannot speak they realize that their story matters.

It breaks me to think about how many people are living in poverty, enslavement, abuse, and more. How can we help them? I don’t know, myself. It is a problem the world may still be trying to solve a thousand years in the future. But, how can we help those who have been rescued, who have come out the other side? How can we heal them, give them strength, hope, determination? Empowerment. Education.

We give them a tool to tell their story. Because, so many – too many – have had their stories taken from them. Here, in this workshop, we try to give it back.

I have done many of these workshops over the past five years. Always, they say the same: we have come from ash and we have rebuilt ourselves. They tried to break us but we would not be broken.

There is hope. There is always hope.

This is a culture of light. Where there is darkness, light permeates.

I show them a camera. I show them a window. I show them a dark stairwell. The choice is theirs. Always, the image is the same: we reach toward the light.

They take their self-portraits. “Represent your dream for your future in a single image”, I tell them. A heavy thing to portray. They have never taken pictures before. And yet – beauty, hope, determination. The word of this workshop is: POWER.

“I am powerful!” one girl shouts as she takes her self-portrait.
“I am confident!” another girl says as she poses.
And finally, at the end, someone says: “I have learned how to tell my story. This is my story to tell.”

It is a culture of light.

And, can’t we all use that? No matter where you are right now, remember the beauty I have seen here. I need you to see it with me. I need you to feel this. The light demands it. Their stories demand it.

Will you try to reach for the light,
even when it is difficult?

1. What do you consider to be ethical storytelling?
2. How do you prefer to tell your own story?

—

I am currently in India teaching self-expression workshops to underprivileged communities. These workshops were developed by myself, Blossomy Projects, and Kolkata Sanved to blend movement with photography. I travel here to Kolkata, India once a year to help end gender-based violence and aid in the education and empowerment of those effected.

I am leaving for Sri Lanka in the morning to continue this work before returning home on February 2nd.

I remember the first time I posted on social media. I uploaded five pictures. I didn’t know how it worked. I went to Flickr with no expectations except that, if I was very lucky, I would make some friends and develop a new hobby.

I remember the first time someone believed in my photography that wasn’t my mom or dad. I worked with her, Michelle my dear friend, and she came behind my desk one day, looked at the new picture I was editing, and told me that I should take a chance on galleries.

I remember the first time I wrote to a gallery. It was eight months after I started taking pictures. I wrote to every gallery email I could find. I messed it up royally. I burned bridges. I didn’t know any better. I told myself I was young, but that had no role in it. I was just learning.

I remember when I decided to quit my job to pursue photography. I went into my office crying, not because I didn’t want to leave, but because I was terrified at what my boss would say. And to be honest, it was as bad as I expected. I cried every day for two weeks until I finally left, and then I learned what it was like to breathe.

I remember when I had my first exhibition, just a few days after I quit my job. I sold nothing, but felt like I was on top of the world. My parents flew in to see it, my first friend from the internet Christine did the same, and I felt like a real artist.

I remember when I had to get a temporary housekeeping job because I couldn’t make enough money creating my art. I felt embarrassed, like I was less of an artist because of it.

I remember when I taught my first workshop. I was so scared that I thought I was going to throw up the whole morning. But beyond that, I was excited at the prospect of opening up the imagination. I remember talking excitedly and nervously to a man standing outside of my shooting location. At the end of our talk, he said “Your positivity is infectious, never lose that.” I will never forget him.

There are certain experiences that define who we are. We call them memories once they have passed, and those memories dictate how we see the world, and how we see ourselves. There are two things that dominate my mind when I think about all of the memories I have of “firsts” that I’ve experienced. Whether it was taking my first picture or hosting my first workshop, there was fear, and then there was bliss.

These two things are linked so wholly that I don’t know if I have ever had one without the other. Fear is a catalyst for change. It is what we feel when we are doing something new. It is what we feel when we are uncertain. It is what we feel when we doubt. But beyond that, it is our greatest demon. It is what we battle, time and time again, to find our happiest selves. It is what we constantly confront, push past, and conquer. And the conquering of fear is what connects all of my memories. It is what makes them so spectacular.

I heard from someone the other day who said that the aspire to get to a place where they don’t fear moving forward anymore, like me. I wanted to take that person by the shoulders, shake them, and then hug them. “That’s not me!” I wanted to shout. That’s not me at all. I feel fear. I feel doubt. I am scared to move forward.

But I remind myself, even if sometimes my reminders are delayed, that the purest forms of happiness stem from overcoming fear. I remind myself that failures are lessons. That success is only how you see your circumstance. That I am powerful enough to try anything, overcome my losses, and change my life if I want to.

I move forward right now, during this time in my life. I am hosting a “Promoting Passion” convention in October this year for all of us “misfit” creatives who feel fear, chase hope, and who want to do something a little bit differently. I am terrified that it will fail. I am scared that everything will go wrong. But I remind myself in this endeavor that if it does, I will learn. That if it doesn’t, I will find my bliss. If it doesn’t, I will find friends. If it doesn’t…

Conquer your fear today.
Encourage someone else to do the same.
Promote your passion.

The second retreat is an hour outside of Milan, Italy from July 6-10, 2015. When I found the mansion we’ll be creating at there was no way I could turn it down. I immediately exclaimed: “I hope someone comes and shares this with me!”. The house that is booked for our living accommodations is super luxurious (totally opposite of what I’m used to booking into!) and I can’t wait to see it in person.

                                                          Flayosc, FRANCE                                 Milan, ITALY
                                                          May 21-25, 2015                                   July 6-10, 2015
                                                          $2,450                                                     $2,800

www.brookeshaden.com/workshops

Both prices include all expenses while at retreat (living, food, locations, transportation, etc…). Travel to our living accommodations is the responsibility of attendee.

The difference between the retreats is that attendees share rooms (2 per room) in France whereas each attendee gets their own room in Italy.

The information packet details everything from our itinerary to addresses and info about the content of the retreat. If you decide to join me, be ready for an adventure and discovery of inner-inspiration. And lots of hugs. Always lots of hugs <3

The FRANCE location:

The ITALY location:

I wanted to combine several stories here to create a new one. The poisoned apple. Little Red Riding Hood. And the beautiful decaying house we had the fortune of photographing in. I took the idea of poisoned apples with the Little Red character and put them together. When I was setting up I brought my apples out and asked the attendees to take bites out of the apples, which they did, and I set them up so that the apples would come toward my camera.

The light came most harshly from a window camera right, and there was another window, less direct, also to the left so I positioned the model (my beautiful sister-in-law Steph) to the more direct window. Later in post I closed in the walls around her so you couldn’t see the edges of the windows in the shot (it was a very tight space).

With the concept I wanted there to be multiple apples eaten as though she is searching for the one with the poison. When one of the attendees asked what the story was, I gave it all: This girl had been traveling through the forest and got lost, and so she entered this house, falling apart and decayed, and she stayed for shelter from the pending storm. When she tried to leave the doors would not open and the windows would not break, and she found herself trapped. The only thing she had were apples, and so she tried each one hoping they were poison.

It was completely meant to be fun and have a story, one that was dark and beautiful to me. I love having fun with fairytales, and especially taking existing fairytales and twisting them a bit. Sometimes we all need a reminder that our craft does not need to be so serious all the time. I create images like this when I want to open up my mind and just have fun with my camera.

This retreat that I’m hosting in the UK is a unique creative experience. Focused on art photography, yet designed to allow all attendees to find, cultivate, and pursue their own creative voice, this retreat is 3+ days of hands on learning, sharing, giving, and adventure.

The UK retreat is the longest I’ve hosted, running from the evening of August 7th to the morning of August 11th. From shooting at ruins to photographing on a lake, in boats, in a forest, on rolling hills, and even inside our giant studio space, we will have the opportunity to shoot in many different inspiring situations.

The premise is simple: We all live under one roof for the days of the retreat. The price ($2,450) includes your lodging, all meals, and helps to cover model fees and location rental. Once you arrive at the house, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. That’s what we’ve been planning behind the scenes, and our hope is that you show up, relax, get creative and have fun.

We will discuss many different topics like…

Inspiration & Fear
Business & Goal Setting
Editing & Image Compositing
Creative Shooting & Set Design

We will focus on creating a small series while we are together. One afternoon is dedicated to practice shooting. The next day we edit and talk business. And the final full day is dedicated to 1-1 meetings as well as shooting at all of our inspiring locations. With 5-7 models available each person can grab their model of choice and run with it. The retreat is capped at 12 participants for an intimate gathering.

We’ll be eating healthy meals, staying at an amazing “green” facility that caters to retreats in a small town in Norfolk, UK, and enjoying activities outside of photography like a bonfire, t-shirt making, and movie-watching.

The great thing about a retreat is that while I’ve got our days jam-packed with activities, we can adjust as we go and work on the fly…so if you’re feeling inspired, you can run out and shoot with our resident model (the amazing Jen Brook, who will be living with us for your shooting pleasure…any whim or fancy, she’s your girl!).

I hope that you can join me on this retreat!

—

These two U.S. workshops are the last traditional workshops I will be doing for some time: Bordentown, NJ & Phoenix, AZ.

When it came time to do the class, I nearly forgot that it was nighttime! I was envisioning everything being lit by a window. So instead of panicking with 20 minutes to spare before class, I once again nagged the Sweetlight team and asked if they could put one light with a softbox above the subject, pointing directly down. Everyone looked at me like I was nuts…which I might be, but in my mind, I wanted to simulate a moon. So I figured the best way to do that would be to put the light overhead and diffuse it.

Once the light was set the class gathered, and we began building. We started with a simple setup: dirt on the floor (thank you WHCC!), a black backdrop, and our model Marsha laying on top. I put a lantern in her hand and made it look like a forest scene with a girl who had fallen asleep under the night sky.

From there we began adding leaves, and then sticks, and then eventually a bed.

(I should definitely say thank you to the hotel for providing the bed, though I actually think they still have no idea that we covered it in dirt and sticks, so probably best to not mention it…).

My method was to build the scene up, starting with something simple and ending in a crescendo of a beautiful dream sequence – a girl dreaming in the forest at night, still sleeping in her bed. It was probably the most fun I’ve had teaching as far as the actual shooting goes…and to imagine, it was all in a ballroom at a hotel with one light and a black background. That is why I love photography. You can make it whatever you want, your dreams can become a reality, and you can do it with your own rules.

If you’d like to purchase this print to support the Saving Eliza charity, you can do so here!

If you had a blank space, how would you decorate it?