Study of a Creative Life

I grabbed the hyper-detailed directions and dashed out Saturday morning towards Canton, GA to capture the first episode of my new digital documentary series focused on creative souls in the south. Artist Melanie Eberhardt and I have been friends for many years. There's a great ease about our relationship, where conversation and laughter flow effortlessly and we leave each other feeling nourished, inspired, and really tired.

There's also a hefty bit of mileage and wrong turns between us, but I knew I wanted the first episode to feature Melanie in her own space. Aside from being one of the most creative people I know, she lives a colorful life in a small trailor on four acres of land at the end of the tire tracks, off the gravel road. She shares this space with four Arabian horses, pony Joe, a (once-stray) pot-belly pig, twelve cats of various shapes, colors and tail-lengths, a (once-stray) Cockatiel, and a (once-abandoned) spit-fire Daschund/Laborador Retriever mix named Lucky.

"Promise me you will not clean your house," I said firmly. "I mean it. I want the real you. The real studio. The real space. And don't wear anything you wouldn't normally wear. People need to see the real you." And when she greeted me at the door with her torn bluejeans and muddy boots, I knew all would be well. I captured nearly 10GB of still images, video and audio of Melanie and her world that day. Watching. Studying texture and motion. Searching for details. Asking questions. Digging deep. Freezing moments in time. Shining a bright light upon a significant soul.

Tell me about the creative people in your life.

how i got my very first gallery exhibit

Last night, I had my very first gallery exhibit.  In describing the experience on my blog, I keep repeating words like "amazing." "Exhilarating." "Humbling."  It was one of my goals for 2009, and I have to say, I've now been bitten by the bug: I want more! More!  For those of you who've ever dreamt of attending a gallery opening of your own work, I highly recommend it.

This morning, I was trying to think of how this opportunity came to me (and how I can make it happen again), and admittedly, there was a great deal of luck involved.  But I did do a few things that I think helped the luck along, so I thought I'd share them here with you, in case you're ever of the mind to pursue a gallery opportunity.  And so, in no particular order:

1.  Join an organization.  As soon as I quit my job to pursue writing and photography full time, one of the first thing I did was join the American Society for Media Photographers as well as a local organization, Spacetaker.  At the time, my motivation to join these organization was mostly to connect with other photographers, and hopefully find a mentor; however, I admit that I have yet to attend one local meeting.  Still, I think the gallery where my work is currently being exhibited contacted one of these organizations and got their e-mail list, which is how I managed to receive an e-mail (along with countless other local photographers, I imagine), informing us of their upcoming photography show, and inviting us to submit.  It turns out that joining a local organization is a great way to "get your name out there."

2.  Shoot with projects in mind.  One of the things I've done recently is to shoot with projects in mind:  if I come up with an idea for a project, or I'm about to experience something new, I don't just shoot one image, but I shoot a series of images.  For example, the work that appeared in the show last night was the result of a series of shots I did when visiting a friend's ranch for the first time (and using my Kodak Duaflex viewfinder for the shots, to give them a special effect).  When the gallery contacted me, I therefore had a body of work ready to go to pitch to them as an idea for an exhibit.  Happily, they accepted.

3.  Group your projects together, and get them up on a website.  On my particular website, I have a section entitled "Projects" where the projects of which I'm most proud live.  Admittedly, my website is pretty fancy, but I don't think it has to be.  Many blogging software programs have "gallery" options for photographs, and there are some great websites that are designed just for photographers (SmugMug comes to mind).  The point is to put your projects somewhere where you can send a potential gallery a link for them to look through the images at their leisure.

And that's pretty much what I did -- again, in my case, serendipity had a lot to do with it.  I'd love to hear what those of you who are more seasoned did to get your first gallery showing -- please share in the comments.  And for those of you who've never shown your work publicly, is this something you dream of doing?  What additional tips might you all have to share?

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waited:now:change:finally:new:hope:courage:peace:joy:fresh:unexpected:truth:character:progress:

breakthrough:inclusive:start:different:excitement:rush:open:community:organized:optimistic:

unprecedented:historic:believable:young:ready:clear:service:dedication:humility:

family:now:euphoric:wise:challenging:more:engaged:level-headed:reasonable:mature:good.

Forty-four words for the forty-fourth president.  No matter what your political ideals, your eye today through the lens turns on history.  Whatever you shoot is whatever your kids will see, ten, fifteen, twenty years from now when the idea of this man at this time in this White House will be considered a matter of course.

As I write, at least forty-four dishes are being washed in my kitchen as all day long friends and family called from as far away as Massachussetts to say they couldn't let this celebration go without being able to say, We were there.  So we threw more rice in the pot, put another can of black beans on the stove and feasted all night as the house filled with the happiness of change, a new day and the hope that in the morning it really will be a brand new world.

What are your forty-four words today?  What's the shot you'd like to contribute to family history.  Leave your links in the comments, then check out the others who participated with Melissa--the brilliant woman who came up with this idea.  I'll be looking for my historic shot as my dear ones brave the National Mall, a few Metro stops away.

Making History

If you're a Shutter Sister who happens to live stateside, today is the day your photo tells the story of history in the making.  No matter if you vote to send a woman or an African-American to the White House--together as a nation we've expanded our shared sense of what's possible in America and that's no small feat.  Have you ever had a better reason for a photo op?

How will you capture your historic vote today?  What will you catch in the lens to help you (and your children) remember this ground-breaking election forever?

Please vote today and when you come back home, leave us a link to what making history looks like from wherever you are and however you're feeling.  It's an incredibly important day.

The Art of Documenting the Beautifully Mundane

Recently, I shared with another photographer my hesitation to identify myself as an "artist."  I don't have any formal training in photography or fine art or even mediocre art.  I'm not the type of person to spend serious time in art museums, and I am more than a little bit embarrassed at my lack of knowledge of famous photographers.  You see, when I take photos, I consider my camera a documentary tool.  My first thought is not about making art but about capturing the humdrum moments that comprise our lives.

So when I read Jen's beautiful post this week about the courage to let it click, I realized that I don't need better credentials to embrace my inner artist; I need courage.  And by courage, I love how our lovely sister Brené Brown points to the original definition of courage as being "to speak one's mind by telling all one's heart."  If you've never heard this definition of courage before, let it sink in for a while.  It's something all of us in these fear mongering days need to soak into the core of our beings.

Well, I think that one way for me to "tell all my heart" or my own story is through my photos of the mundane and yet fleeting and often beautiful moments of my life as a mom, wife, daughter, sister, and friend.  These are the stories I have a compulsion to document, and this is my inner artist that I have the courage to finally recognize. 

"Hi.  My name is Sarah-Ji, and I am an artist of documenting the beautifully mundane."  There.  I said it.  Now to go about life embracing it...

How about you?  What is the story of your inner artist?  Feel free to share links to images that tell your story--ordinary, mundane, profound, beautiful or all of the above.