Little Women

One of my friends, Lisa,  and her daughter (about 5 years old) was staying with us a few years ago. Lydia has big, beautiful eyes-and when anyone who met her would say "oh, what pretty eyes you have" Lydia would say "I know!" in a well-of-course-I-do sort of way. Understanding this was a great time to teach Lydia about modesty, Lisa had instructed Lydia in proper discourse. "Thank you. I appreciate the compliment." and had also devised a strategy for her daughter....

Lydia was told that whenever she felt like it she could look in the mirror and tell herself what pretty eyes she had. (How's that for positive affirmation? we should all start our day this way.)  So while she was visiting I overheard her sitting on the toilet, looking in the mirror, and cooing to herself " you have beautiful eyes! and such beautiful eyelashes!"

Lydia playing dress up. Check out those beautiful eyelashes. 

She's not alone. I watched a little girl, maybe around 4, at the grocery store. She'd seemed quite distracted (running into her Aunt's big purse quite a few times) until she noticed the mirror (you know, the one they use to check under your cart) I saw her move in to examine her reflection several times before she went in for a big kiss. To herself. I couldn't help it--I laughed out loud and introduced myself to her Aunt. She told me her niece LOVED looking at herself;  if there is a mirror any where around she can't even see anyone else.

And I wonder when it changes; when do we stop looking in the mirror and thinking "What pretty eyes" and start thinking "where did those wrinkles come from" " look at those zits" "my nose is too big" "my lips are too small."

I think these little ladies are on to something. The only person responsible for my self-image is me.  So if you catch me looking in the mirror and telling myself how pretty my eyes are, you'll not only forgive me, but you'll know who my role-models are.

Community Garden

Our friend Kumiko came by the other day with a huge bag of citrus fruit (for which I never properly thanked her, especially since she sacrificed her fruit picker in the process.) It was a generous gift-of time as well as fruit-since each variety of was packaged in it's own brown bag with little stories and drawings on them. 

Tearing each gift open felt a little like Christmas. And truth be told it smelled like Christmas too, the bright citrus smells mingling together. Every Christmas morning we found a sweet orange in the toe of our stockings, a sunny reminder of summer in the middle of winter.

I took a few minutes to take some photos of these little gems because it reminded me so much of growing up in Utah. As soon as the gardens were in and producing neighbors were out and about delivering their extra fruits and veggies. There's even a joke about it:

Q: What do you call someone who has to buy zucchini in summer?

A: Someone with no friends. 

And honestly, I'd never bought a zucchini until I left Utah. Italian Squash? Sounds fancy to me. 

So it's just fruit, right? In my experience it's a little more than that. There is something about a sharing with your friends and neighbors that creates community. I know that it made me a feel a little more at home. Thanks Kumiko, and I owe you a fruit-picker.

Robot Chicken

Robot

Chicken

A friend of mine (and a former student) is one of the lucky ladies selected for this years AFI Directing Workshop for Women. She's also does fabrication and art direction for Robot Chicken; needless to say, a very talented artist whose next big project will be creating her first live-action film, "Losing Ferguson."

So, I'm not sure if you heard, but it takes MONEY to make a film. Trish has a kickstarter (http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1045357347/losing-ferguson) and is hosting an art show/fundraiser next week at the Hold Up gallery in L.A. And guess what? I'm in it! Sellin' these little lovelies (well, they are 12x18) for the greater good.

When I dropped off the work I saw a ton of awesome work (including a woodcut that if you don't buy, I may just have to take home myself.) So consider this my personal invitation to you......c'mon down. And bring that fat wad of cash you've got in your wallet.

Hold Up Art

June 25th 6-11pm

358 E. 2nd Street

LA, CA 90012

Ashley

When Ashley showed me her dress for her portraits I immediately thought about how much her look reminded me of the 1950's. So when this car drove by during the shoot I was thrilled! Jeesh...wished I could've planned that!

So this is the more "traditional" senior portrait. I really enjoyed that our location was actually local. This lovely little vineyard is just a stones throw from the school. Etiwanda is covered with this little gems; small pockets of agriculture, often family owned, in this vast suburban city. 

Andrea

This is one our best friends, Andrea. We met in college, she in ceramics and Dave and I in photo. After graduation life took us in different directions; Andrea moved to Japan for a few years and then back to the states, Dave moved to Florida, and I came to California. 

And then Dave came to California and then Andrea did! 

*yea! I win* 

Andrea moved back to Utah a few years ago and is loves it!  But we get together for a girls weekend every year. This years girls trip (sadly, sans our third musketeer, Amy) was awesome! We SATURATED ourselves with amazing art and food!  sidenote: If you haven't been to RAWvolution in Santa Monica YOU MUST GO!!! 

Andr at the Norton Simon. 

So our impromptu photo session rendered the lovely portrait above of Andrea, and these little lovelies she took of me! I hope no one chokes to death laughing. Gotta' love those glasses. 

Meet Tory!!!!

 Finally! I got the rest of these up on my blog! I really enjoyed making these senior portraits (and these seniors). I love environmental portraits but I also love approaching the senior portrait a bit more like a headshot. Especially when the model has as much energy as Tory! You can really see her quirky/fun personality shine through....

love this little out take....Jess fills in as make-up artist

Jessica

I had so much fun with this portrait setting! Jessica (and Tori-those pics to come!) DeeJayed the entire session. I was pleased to learn that Morrissey is still on play lists (but we called those mixed tapes, right?) and pleasantly shocked to hear Neil Young.

Jess is such an amazing young woman; she sings and dances and is a talented artist. One of the great things about working with high school students is seeing the potential they have---I can't wait to see what the world holds for her.

High-Touch vs. High-Tech

High-touch vs. high-tech..I love this phrase! It's from a documentary on Keith Carter, he was talking about using the darkroom vs. digital technology. Carter said that he saw no reason not to use digital....he just liked the way the darkroom felt. And I totally get that....I just don't get enough time in the darkroom these days. Well, ok, I'm in the darkroom everyday, but usually accompanied by 16 teenagers and answering questions rather than actually printing.

But I've been able to spent some time lately processing film and printing. Nothing major. Just rummaging through old files and printing some things I shot a little while ago. And WOW! Do I feel great when I get the chance to print.

This is from a old set of negatives and is still one of my favorite photos of this little angel. Alyssa had just finished her first performance of the Nutcracker (she played Clara this year, if that tells you how old these negatives are) and we took a minute in the stairwell at Gardner Spring Auditorium to take this photo.

When Dave and I photographed the Morningbirds a few months ago my 5D was out for shutter repair. I was thinking about renting a body or just letting Dave shoot when I realized that my Hassleblad had been sitting in the hall closet for months (maybe longer) without use. Sam and Jen were totally excited to have me shoot film! They talked about the work that Annie Liebowitz had done in the seventies with bands and they loved the idea of shooting a little in that loose/candid style. (Sam was talking to Esteban, the drummer, in this shot.)  

So when I found this last week in my classroom I couldn't help but pick it up. 

I'm really glad someone else feels the way I do. 

Hamlet

Damian and I did some quick headshots for his BFA application to UC Fullerton. Of course he was accepted, anyone who has seen him perform knows how dynamic he is on stage. He is exceptionally talented, I loved watching his performance of Hamlet this year in the black box. 

Hamlet in the Black Box

Scarlet Slippers

Ruby slippers. Glass slippers-the stuff of fairy tales. I'll admit I'm fascinated by those stories; Hans Christian Anderson's dark story about vanity causing a girl to dance herself almost to death easily matches Grim's grimmest fairy tales. 

In the story, an orphaned girl makes herself a pair of red shoes from scraps she's found. (In some versions a cobblers wife makes them for her) But either way, she loves them and is pleased with what she's been able to craft for herself. She is later adopted by a rich woman who is tricked by the girl into buying her much fancier red dancing shoes-shoes that put the coarse, hand-made ones to shame. These shoes fuel the girls vanity; the girl begins to dance. And dance. And dance without ceasing. After days of dancing, the girl begs a man to chop her feet off (and yes, remember it's a children's story). He cuts off her feet and carves wooden feet and crutches for her. She is finally forgiven for her vanity, but she's paid a high price. The story gets darker, actually, but I don't want anyone to have nightmares. 

Anyway, I'd read several versions of this story, so I suppose it wasn't surprising that when I saw these dancers performing last weekend at Balboa park I was mostly fascinated with their shoes. I probably should've been photographing my sister and nephew that I only see a few times a year, but I was distracted by the the shiny red boots. Aren't they lovely?

So perhaps after my last post it goes without saying, but I do like the idea that vanity is born of things that are perceived as "perfect" and that we save ourselves with humble, handmade things. 

The Hand-Made Thing

Hand made. I adore this phrase. It speaks to love.

I can't help but believe if you made me something you must love me. You took your time, your energy, and your talents to CREATE something.

My friend Andrea Smith made these wonderful bowls for Dave and I. And this is what I love: Dave and Andrea, sitting in the backyard discussing the shape and size of these bowls and how the foot would be turned. When we unwrapped them I knew immediately that the texture on the outside was designed especially for me---the person most compelled to touch. Perfectly custom made. And perfect.

Andrea also designed these mugs for us. The texture on the bottom intended to mimic the underside of a mushroom and the size and shape to accommodate our morning lattes. Every time I pick them up it's like a little hug from Andr. 

Andrea has a show opening this Friday night at The Logan Arthouse & Cinema; the show's name is "Entwined" and her work is of vessels bound together-echoing what binds us together as humans, all those intricate relationships that become difficult to articulate.

I'm too many miles away to make it to the opening, but on Friday morning I'll pour my cereal and coffee and enjoy those beautiful little pieces of art that I get to use everyday.

And I Said Your Name

This is my mother, Jean. She died four years ago after a (second) battle with breast cancer. She was an amazing and strong spirit. At her funeral I spoke about how she had volunteered at the same elementary school from 1979 until the fall before she died. 32 years. Long after her own children left Bountiful Elementary she read to children who struggled to read; and listened while children tried on their own. She led scout troops and science expeditions. She taught us to love to read and to love to learn and above all to be curious.

So when she was dying (and it was something we knew was happening-no words were left unsaid) we talked about it. And it was hard. I lived 800 miles away (and god bless the administrators who looked the other way when I was "sick" every fourth week of school) and there was no way to be as present as I wanted to be.

And how do you deal with that? How can you even breathe when you are losing your mother? And this is what I did....I said your name.

I said, "Dave, Amy, Andria, Matt, Kami, Audra, Ryan, Dad, Neil, Shar, Bob, Russ, Madi, Joy" and then I said, " Sister Welch, Sister Turner, Judy, Margot" and then I said, "Siobhan, Jane, John, Nate, Jaci, Mike, Darren" and "Jen, Rob, Lil, Debbie, Mary, Lynne, Melanie, Lisa, Laura"  and then "Christina, Leanne, Nate, Velvet, Sarah, Trish, Eric...." and the list went on. And on. I said every name that gave me strength.

I mean that literally. I said your name. I said the name of the friends that I went to elementary school with, and Junior High, and High School, and College. I said the name of school teachers and primary teachers. I said the names of friends and students and collegues. Literally. Driving from here to Utah- I said your names. And I have so wanted to tell you. I have so wanted to say how much it meant just to be able to say your name.

Crystal

 Crystal is a colleague and friend of mine. She's also a talented musician-so we met to get some promotional photos. We wanted the bassoon to be a part of the image, but not to dominate the portrait (which it could easily do considering it is about the size of small human being.)

I love this one with the lip ring and the coy glance. Very Crystal. She told me that she was known in musical circles as "the bassoonist with the lip ring." Gotta' say, I like the idea of a classical musician with an edge.

Secret Insides

Ok. I'll admit it. I am fascinated with other peoples spaces. You know this if I've ever been over to your house. I feel compelled to touch everything. To look at every book you have. To examine every piece of art you've put on your wall. And thus began "Secret Insides"- a quick little study of other peoples spaces. I remember being surprised at how many people still have "sitting rooms" and "parlors" and also how many bathrooms I went in that could easily have qualified as "powder rooms."  

This photo was taken in Ogden when I was photographing my fathers close friends, Ella and Ellen. Ella and her husband were like a second set of parents to my father. Richard worked at Hill Air Force Base with Dad, he died the same month I was born. Ella said she remembered driving by the base at lunch and crying when she saw Dad eating alone after Richard died. Ellen is a devout Jehovah's Witness, and has committed her life to service-especially to her mother, who now requires round-the-clock care. When she moved in there wasn't room for her bedroom set in the bedroom. So she set it up in the living room. 

This was in a narrow little back staircase in a bed and breakfast in Redlands. I was on my way up to photograph a bride getting ready for the ceremony when I noticed the reflection off these frames had essentially erased the portraits.

Oliva

 Olivia is the kind of kid you want to brag about, even if she's not yours. She's incredibly bright-one of those kids that is as eager to discuss the book she's reading as the science project she'd worked on.  (And she seemed quite interested in my explanation of how light was measured in stops, which, of course, I found endearing.)

 She's also an amazing singer and has recently begun songwriting. (Don't you get the sense that she's going to take the world by storm?) Olivia auditioned Saturday for a local production of "Hairspray." The director had asked for b/w headshots (unusual these days) but I think it really works for Olivia and that gorgeous hair.

Ok...one more, just because the whole family is so cute. Olivia and sister Calla with their puppies this last December.....

A Map of the World

A friend of mine had this tattooed recently- after traveling to China, Israel, and Ireland. Her intent being to chronicle her travels by eventually coloring in all the countries she'd travelled to. A map of the world-with all of it's careful (and sometimes arbitrary) delineations of customs and culture. The entire globe and all of it's people encapsulated on a single persons skin.

But the metaphor expands. I've been thinking about this photo shoot (initially intended as an exercise for Dave and I to figure out how to split the strobes) every time I listen to the news.

Japan, Libya, Egypt. My heart breaks-and soars. Every crisis giving way to hope. A baby found amidst the rubble, a grandfather clinging to a scrap of his  home, a people being heard by their own government and the rest of the world. And this is the human condition; we survive, and we make meaning from what we've survived. 

Chop wood, carry water

Chop wood. Carry Water
-Zen proverb


Work. Always work. Pull weeds, wash dishes, change the laundry. Process film, grade papers, print. Feed the animals, make dinner.  Read. read. read. Write, write. write. Work.

And this is true; work should be a mediation and a song.

When I am working on needlecraft, I am meditating on the love I learned from my Grandfather, the steel-worker who taught me to knit and crochet.  When I am weeding or planting, I am meditating on the hours of love my parents spent in our garden growing up. When I am photographing or editing I am grateful ten-thousand times for the gift of seeing.

Pretty/Strong

I loved this portrait setting. Denise hadn't had her portrait made in years-but she'd been a model in high school. At six feet (and then add the heels!) she still holds herself like a model. She had some specific ideas about the "look" she wanted.

What I most enjoyed about the session was the conversation-we talked about how all women deserve to feel beautiful. Denise is beautiful-and strong and wise.

I'm not 18. And I'm not a size 6. And I often hesitate to have my photograph taken ( and I dread that 3-sided mirror in a dressing room). And as we discussed the stereotypes of women, Denise reminded me that no one has to fit into the media-ideal body type to pretty. Not a bad lesson.  Thanks Denise.

Digital Doorbell Ditch-Valentines Day

When we were little we spent hours addressing cards to every kid in class. And hours making our Valentines boxes to bring ours home in. (My favorite was my fifth grade box that was covered in aluminum foil and had three-dimensional hearts all over....it was amazing that anyone could figure out where to put the cards.) Then, when we got home from school we would make cookies and pack up Valentines cards with those nasty, chalky conversation hearts and head out into the neighborhood.

If we loved you (or our Mom told us we ought to include you) we put our treats on your doorstep, rang the doorbell, and ran like hell. This is how I thought everyone celebrated Valentines Day. I have since learned that this is not the case-but it hasn't stopped me (actually, quite far into adulthood) from doorbell ditching Valentines treats.

So. How do you doorbell ditch your loved ones scattered across the world? Dave and I made had so much fun making our Christmas cards this year in the studio we decided that we would make Valentines cards too. Happy Valentines day! Consider this our digital doorbell ditch to all of our friends and family.

Ok...last one. This is for my jaded friends who are not exactly thrilled about an entire day celebrating the artifice of love. 

Invincible Summer

"In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."  Albert Camus

Yesterday I turned the compost into the beds that will be home to our tomatoes this year. (What a delightful chore; rich and loamy soil has a wonderful feel and smell.) And every time I am working in the garden in January or February I can't help but be amazed. For a girl from Utah, February is the depths of winter (and yes, I know that isn't exactly what Camus meant, but I can't help but think of this time of year as my invincible summer) And yesterday, on February 5th, the apricot tree bloomed....and is already teeming with bees. 

What an amazing gift. To be able to spend almost every day of the year outside. Even though I have lived here for 12 years, I have resisted calling myself a Californian; I wanted nothing to do with the smog and the traffic and the strip malls and the suburbs and the suburbs and the suburbs. 


But I was wrong. There are suburbs and strip malls everywhere. And also apricot trees. 

Mountain Natural Living Festival

One of the things I love about my friend Mary is that she is always looking for a way to do good in her community. This year she made the enormous commitment to host a "Mountain Natural Living Festival" in Wrightwood. Local farmers hosted booths along side artisans, homeopathic healers, and booths with information on native plants and gardening. 

When she asked me to help with a little bit of advertising I was thrilled. I met some wonderful farmers who welcomed me into their home and onto their farm. I met a woman who sells organic (read: delicious/amazing) honey and cheese. And I met a lot of people willing to spend their time and energy to make this happen.

It was a huge undertaking; live music, yoga classes, kids' art projects. But it was also a huge success.