I’m not always sad, but when I am, I am very.
-but the more I allow myself (‘allow’ is an important, key-word here) to let out what’s going on inside me, the more I’m able to produce work that genuinely touches me and does something inside of me.
Me.
Not others. Not another. Not someone who would potentially buy a print. Not someone who would potentially be offended by an image of mine. Not someone who would potentially feature my photograph in a gallery or mag or page.
Me.
Allowing yourself to ‘feel’ is a loaded choice, because it can end up looking really ugly, and getting really messy. It’s difficult for me to get out of sad spells when they come. Label it, diagnose it, call it what you want. Much of my portrait work often has a trace of ‘it’ in it someway, somehow. Many great concepts I’ve shot were birthed in my brain during full fledged tears. Many shots are composed in attempt to mirror what I physically can’t show. My work is very much real life to me in that honest way.
All in all… I believe that I’ve had to allow my heart to break in order for boundaries to be pushed in my work; I’ve had to allow myself to be dramatic about every little thing, in order to keep my heart open and inspired by every little thing. For how heavy I feel in ‘darker hues’, there is a certain light and redemption in creating pieces of work that honestly make me feel alive. Pieces that came out of shitty, shitty days. Pieces that I shot fresh out of a panic attack. Whatever. When I’m just able to say “Man, this image reflects this bundle of emotions I haven’t been able to put into words yet” after a shoot… that is a very great thing to experience. It makes it all worth it, in a way, as if to somehow tie everything together in a knot with no more loose ends hanging. Like a good movie ending that doesn’t necessarily leave with you with a feeling, but rather, an assurance that its for a greater purpose.
fin.
Comments +