Textures. Actions. Everyone seems to be using them these days, right? Like most things technological, I am at first wary of any fancy pants tools. And when I say wary I mean totally intimidated. Then I warm up when I see that it's fun and relatively easy. The next step is to enter utter and total texture/action geekdom. Be warned people, you can spend hours on one photo!

At first it will feel like how photoshop did when you first encountered it. Overwhelming, boundless, how can you possibly try everything out? And after you get over the kicks of liquefying your friends' faces and turning your husband into a colorful mosaic, you get bored. And for me anyway, with the lack of expert knowledge, the images always turned out kinda corny. It became so much more about the effect than the image.

The same goes for textures. I'm learning that you have to start out with a good image or you don't have much to work with. That said, I have also transformed mediocre shots into something really special, and saved my sorry ass when the lighting wasn't quite right. Phew! The next trick is to not overwhelm the image with effects, but use the your tools and not let them use you.

I am not good at being subtle yet... I don't have command of my tools but I hope to. And I've gotten lucky a few times just the same. This week's challenge is to take a photo and use a texture on it! There are some free textures here and here, or the vintage background I used on this shot is here. I'm excited to see what you get! Here are some shots that will give you some inspiration.

Click here for simple instructions on how to use textures. You can also purchase some really affordable textures from the same person, Ash. If you've got the bug and you're ready for a little splurge, there are also gorgeous fine art textures available from Jesh de Rox. His work blows me away...

What are you doing with textures? Have you been playing with them? What kind of results are you getting? What about actions? What are your favorites? Looking forward to seeing what you create.

Even as an Art major in college I knew I would never make it as a fine artist. It was never the Plan. I always knew in my true little artist heart that I would do something creative in my career but I also knew that creating fine art and trying to get it into galleries or even more, sell it was not that something for me. Plan A was graphics. But when I found out the graphic department was impacted and highly competitive, I bowed out of even trying to get in. I didn’t have a Plan B so I just went with the knowing that I would do something creative in my career part and decide that was enough as I set out to get a BA in Art, of course.

I guess from there the steps aren’t really important because now I am doing a million creative things in my career(s) and my experience has been better than I could have ever planned. The best part to having a no real Plan is that you can wander anywhere your path leads you without fear of not following the Plan. It’s pretty great and can really work to your advantage (she’s says speaking from experience).

As far as not wanting to get my work into galleries, I’ll admit, I have had my moments of giving that a whirl with hit and miss results. For the few times I have been accepted into a show (and they have been tiny shows mind you) what grand experiences they were! There is nothing like having something you created on display in a sacred space along with work from fellow creatives, wine in hand, celebrating each other and sharing something magical. I’m just relieved that I didn’t have that kind of thing in my Plan because now, these kinds of events have been moments to savor, like a extra icing on the cake of my creative life.

How about you? Have you ever put yourself out there and tried to submit something to an exhibition? It can be unnerving I know, but as inspired women looking to share our unique perspectives from behind our lenses, we have nothing to lose but an entry fee. And if you did enter a show and a photograph that you shot was chosen to hang on a gallery wall, wouldn’t that just be the sweetest thing? If you are nodding your head yes, then I challenge you, on this leap day to take your own leap and waiver from your Plan; even if it’s only long enough to enter one of your beloved works of photographic art into The Art of Photography Show. You only have until Monday so leap to it. Thanks jpg mag for the head up on this one.

So, I’ll see you at the opening! That’s called positive thinking. *wink*

The photo above is what I would probably consider my very first successful photo projects (a polaroid transfer of one of my sculptures)—my signature is even in my maiden name. It hung in a gallery for six weeks a long time ago and today it hangs in my entry way.

There's something I love about an image of a man caring for a young child.  And it's not just pictures of my husband with our daughter, either.  I think it has something to do with the fact that often men are expected to be strong, stoic,  and capable of subduing any signs of vulnerability -- so when I see a man being particularly tender or attentive with a child, I feel like I've been let in on a little secret. 

The photograph above was taken this past weekend:  a friend asked me to take pictures of her young daughters.  We met at a park, and I was so happy that her husband, B, decided to join us.  With the aid of my long 70-200mm lens, I was able to capture this special moment between daddy and daughter.  Thanks, B, for letting me in on the secret.

 Happy Love Thursday, everyone.  Please leave your links of images of love in the comments section, below -- and for inspiration, please check out the lovely image by Addicted to Coke left in the Shutter Sisters Flickr Pool.

And may you witness a tiny, secret moment of love today. 

Today, I photographed a birth. I saw a human being breathe air for the first time. It was the first portrait session that has ever made me cry to the point that I had trouble focusing. And it was a huge honor.

Today I also read the deeply moving tribute that my cousin Leah wrote about her Grandmother (my great Aunt Isabel) who has recently passed. Unfortunately, I never had the chance to get to know her. But it made me think about my own Grandmother's passing. How one day she was there. The next day, she was not. She had overcome countless obstacles in her long life. She had been strong, unwavering, determined. Way ahead of her time, she had even been The Lieutenant Commander. Then one day she was fragile, and flew away.

Today I'm feeling the circle of things. Maybe I'm also feeling melancholy and sentimental. I spent the evening going through old photographs, in the big bin. We all have them, don't we? The big bin? The one that sits unassumingly in your attic or basement. Mostly ignored, and taken for granted, it stores all your treasure memories. Summer camp. That boy. That note. That time. The way she laughed. The big bin stores the tangible evidence of your minutes. Just in case you forget. Because in the end, it's just not about the shutterspeed, or photoshop, or those cool new actions you just bought. In the end, all that matters is the Remembering.

Want to share your favorites? The ones that help you remember? 

Yesterday I posted a photo on my other blog with a few lines describing my recent quandary with a certain four-year-old. Nothing terrible, just terribly trying. I thought it was interesting that many of the comments over there mentioned that my struggle was somewhat evident in my photo, no explanation necessary. It was so nice to feel understood in that way. A picture is sometimes really worth a thousand words--none of them spoken--all just translated intuitively through visual communication. I take great comfort in that—in the power of the capture.

Over the weekend, during a low moment, I stepped outside for a little fresh air therapy when right near my front door these tender leaves caught my eye. Tiny droplets from the previous night’s rain were catching the only glimmer of light offered by the morning diffused with weather. The leaves looked so delicate and sweet. It wasn’t until I pulled the images up on my monitor that I noticed a sadness, as the frail foliage seemed to be weighed down with each drop, weary of the burden. I felt through the image what I felt myself.

So, does all this mean we do truly create photographs that mirror the state we’re in? Do we shoot saddled with our sorrow, or jubilant with joy allowing our intimate vulnerabilities to be exposed through our work? Or, do we instead shoot through our exhaustion and despite our weariness in order to seek some kind of clarity, powerful enough to lift us from our fog? Perhaps it’s all dependent on the very moment we click and what we needed more; to express ourselves or to save ourselves.

If you’ve got a shot that speaks volumes for you, you know we’d love for you to share it.