That's MY life....

Do you ever have that feeling that someone else is living your life? It's like in kindergarten when the kid next to you steals your snack and you say "Hey! That's mine" Inevitably they respond with something inspired like "Is your name on it?" I mean, no, of course my name isn't plastered on that snack, it isn't emblazoned on that life but it's mine!

I went to see "Eat, Pray, Love" the other night with a friend and I walked away feeling like I was watching a version of my life a decade ahead of me. She had everything that I wanted and felt like everything was deconstructing much the way I do now.  And yet, while I stand on the curb watching my home burn to the ground, she got up took a deep breath and ran the complete opposite direction to find her true life. And when she quietly utters the sentiment that she had helped in building this life so "why don't I see myself in it" I felt the imperceptible feeling of water accumulating under my lashes.

How can it be possible that at 25 I already feel lost in the beginning of my life? How is it that I have spent so much energy convincing myself that flying is impossible instead of finding a way to soar. I mulled this over all night as I created the much procrastinated portfolio for my photojournalism application. Was I really sitting on the sidelines of my life? Me? The girl who was convinced that she would not have an ordinary life. The girl who stubbornly stamped her feet in demand of an adventurous existence. Could that be the same girl sitting hour after hour in 3 1/2 walls of gray cubicle staring at a monitor that makes my head explode?

I realize now how much we are our own cable. We silently dream of flying and space and traveling the globe and then we smile politely and pat ourselves on the head thinking "aw how cute you dream of flying". But what is wrong with that? What is wrong with dreaming the big dreams. Yes, maybe it's improbable, maybe when you look at the numbers achieving your dream resembles the odds of winning the lottery but even with the lottery, someone wins eventually right? Why not let that someone be little ole' you.

And so I as I watched this beautiful woman independently search for meaning and existence in far off distant lands I realized, why can't that be my life? Yes, maybe she has lived it and stolen it from my grasps while I was still twirling my hair in high school but that doesn't mean I can't join in. That doesn't mean I can't hop on board and become the next travel writer, the next photographer of exotic lands. That doesn't mean that it can't be MY life too. We can share a dream, right?

Florence, Italy at sunset

good or bad....

I've been thinking a lot lately about what makes a good photograph and more importantly what makes a good photographer? Is is the equipment, the speed, it is the light in the photo, the shadow, what is it that makes someone shoot to the top of the profession while others build scrapbooks?

There is a big debate in the community about education within photography. There are people that believe that a photographer's eye cannot be taught and that schooling is unnecessary on the road to becoming a photographer. Others believe that the community atmosphere, digging through the trenches together covered in film and lighting equipment teaches a technique that cannot be learned on your own. The criticism garnered in these courses can shape your style and push you to new heights. So what is the real "way to do it"? Just go out there and shoot? Is photography, like singing or dancing or walking and chewing gum, just something you can or cannot do?

As I look through the galleries of my inspiration I take a closer work at my own shots and wonder, are they there? Is the lighting right, the angle good, can I become the next big name is this flooded arena? What do you think?

looking through a lens to capture a moment like this is what it's all about...

Starting Anew...

They say a fresh start, a new beginning can do wonders for the spirit. You can mentally shake it all out, erase the slate and begin again. I think we all hope that with these new beginning there will be a new path, that we will avoid the mistakes we have made before and become stronger, happier people on a direct path towards satisfaction. Maybe starting again isn't the way to achieve this. Maybe we need to hold on to our past mistakes, our bumps and bruises to remind us that we have lived. That we aren't perfect and unscathed. That we fought valiantly in that battle and even if we lost that at least we tried. With this new start I bring with me my old experiences. I link to "alert n caffeinated" as a precious memory of where I have been. It isn't all pretty in there. The errors that spell check couldn't catch are obvious and blaring but it's real. This isn't a journey of forgetting but of moving forward. 

The mid-life crisis is a thing of the past, replaced by the quarter-life crisis of this generation. We are lost and confused at this young age. We are in a world struggling for identity, one who has lost it's sense of direction and flow. And through all this, we are thriving. We are living and loving and struggling through. We are waking up everyday to fulfill the responsibilities that we want so badly to shake off but know that it is these scars that will shape us. We seek at this quarter mark to "begin anew" to wake up in the morning and find that our identities have returned. They have crawled back through the window in the middle of the night to let us know that they are home. And with these ideas, with these identities beside us we are daring to risk it all for a new life. We are daring to leave it all behind for a kitchen, a camera, a big wave. We are daring to reopen the American Dream and start a life that is of our own choosing. There isn't a reason to let the cubicle walls suck your spirit into the florescent lights. This age of uncertainty is the perfect time to take on the adventure of making a career out of what you love. 

For me this adventure needs only two small, travel-size pieces: a camera and a pen with unlimited ink...