A Very Special Gift.

It's no secret that most of our photography is of good things: weddings, new babies, birthdays and the requisite pet photo, to name a few.  But what about the other photos? The ones that tell a story no one wants to tell?  Last August I was a summer camp photographer and had the privilege of meeting so many great kids, but one girl was special.  She had a brain tumor and was in the fight for her life but sadly, on April 13th, she lost the battle at the tender age of 4.  Not too long after, her mom contacted me: I would like for you to attend Ann's service and burial on Friday, and if possible captivate it with your wonderful lens.  It was definitely taking me outside of my comfort zone as I had never done something like this before, but how could I not? It was the least I could do for this wonderful family and to honor the child they had lost. 

Have you ever gone out of your comfort zone when photographing something or someone? Please, share your special stories with us...

In Loving Memory of Ann Marie Ambrosio-Cerna, June 17th, 2006 - April 13th, 2011

shooting for transformation

You thought you were going to change the world with your photography, didn't you? You stepped into that struggle, camera in hand, thinking you would "help" these people by telling their stories through your lens. You meant well, you truly wanted to help, but guess what? It wasn't about YOU. It still isn't about YOU. It's about US. It's about SOLIDARITY. It's about the intersectionality of all the struggles of all who are oppressed. It's about how there can't be justice for one until there is justice for all. It's about letting people tell their own stories, even if you are the one behind the camera, framing the image and clicking the shutter, because we all know that we as photographers can control the story we tell by what we choose to capture and share.

And if you can get over yourself and open your eyes and your ears and your heart, YOU are the one who will be transformed, the one who will be humbled by the stories of The People, the one who will no longer show up as the aloof photojournalist but as a brother or sister in solidarity, the one who is there because you recognize that your liberation is tied to the liberation of all who struggle, the one who will never be the same.

"If you have come to help me you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together... " ~ Aboriginal Activist

+++++++++++++++

And when I use the term "you" above, I am talking about myself. This is the story of my own personal experience documenting social justice movements in Chicago for the past six months. I write about this after having experienced May Day, which is celebrated around the world on May 1st as International Worker's Day and here in Chicago as a day to also highlight immigrant rights, which are also worker's rights, which are also human rights.

I really thought my photography was going to change the world, I really did. What I learned instead, was that I was the one in need of transformation.

How has photography changed you? Please share your stories of transformation or images that have had a transformative effect on your heart.

Main Street

The emergence of shiny new shopping centers and franchises over the last 50 years has no doubt taken a toll on some of the quaint downtowns of small town America. Many rural areas struggle to keep their original downtown areas viable while new chain restaurants and strip malls pop up near the highway or closer to new housing developments. I can't deny responsibility for being among the population of convenience-seekers that contribute to this issue. But it does make me sad to drive through towns with so much potential and see that they are 75% abandoned. Yet, some Main Streets are thriving and have found a way to preserve that original charm, while keeping the amenities modern and fresh. So I often wonder why certain towns are able to revitalize their downtown areas, and others struggle.

In either case, I never get tired of photographing these historic spots. Brick streets, original lamp posts, antique signs and charming benches can't be replicated with the same vintage feel. And those old downtown buildings have seen so much over the years. I know I'm not alone in feeling like I need to capture these areas before they are gone or unknown to future generations. I would love to see your images of small town America and hear your thoughts on what makes a successful revitalization.

Get Closer

One of my favorite documentary photographers, Robert Capa, once said "If your pictures aren't good enough, you aren't close enough." It's true. And it's not just about the positioning of your feet or your lens. It's about tightening the distance of your relationship with your subject. The best way to improve your documentary photography skills with people is to focus first (and frequently) on the people closest to you. Watch them move. Study their gestures. Get comfortable creeping in close with a wide angle lens. Be silent. Move your body to craft the composition without disrupting your subject. Wait. Remain alert. Working in this way will teach you how to anticipate action and be quick with your click.

Sequence of Steps Before the Click: I propped my elbows on the bed and used my Nikon D3s with a 24-70mm f/2.8 lens on it's widest 24mm setting and set the aperture to f/4.5 to let in a fair amount of light while retaining enough detail for elements in the field. I fired an external mount flash (Nikon SB900) tilted behind me at a 45 degree angle (and slightly off to the left) to soften the light. To capture the best quality image, I make every effort to shoot on the lowest possible ISO setting (200 in this case). After making an initial image or two with my f/4.5 aperture setting (with the default shutter speed designated by aperture priority mode), I moved to full manual mode and adjusted my shutter speed a bit to compensate for light. This image is one of 33 shot in that sequence. I knew, at some point, she'd lean in close.

unexpected charm

 Charm is a product of the unexpected.  -Jose Marti

As I lay on the grass, lens toward the lone dandelion in our backyard my husband commented that my muse of the afternoon was in fact a nuisance and begged my to pick it before it's seeds flew away (and reseeded in our yard). We had a good laugh at how we can look at the same thing so differently. After a few more choice shots I tenderly picked the weed. To guilty to toss it away I took it inside and honored it and all the wishes it boasted by placing it in tiny vintage vase.

That lone, proud lion of a weed carried more beauty than any boisterous bouquet ever could. Simple, unexpected, charming. The juxtaposition of something you'd never normally see in the house there on the coffee table brought me days of joy. And I would have never considered it had it not been for the urging of my husband. Of course he shook his head at my choice of centerpieces he was still amused at my childlike excitement.

We are the lucky ones ladies. We look at a weed and see wishes. And we can collect them up and take them with us wherever we choose.

Today, create something that will bring you joy, no matter what the world may say. Point your lens to something happy and hopeful for that sake alone. Coax the charm out of the ordinary. Share your very own happiness with us today.