Well, day 2 of my blog back up and running. Here’s to hoping it actually stays up and running as this year I have a ton of projects in the works!
Earlier today I decided I wasn’t going to try to keep this thing going, then, just like that a spur of inspiration hit and here I am. I suppose it’s also weird to think that I’m writing these words, and my mom is probably the only one reading it, if even!
Growing up I was never considered an artist, I painted things that looked like I splattered the paint with a cat’s tail, the sculptures I attempted were naked jewelry holders where there was no arms, and anything that required permanent ink looked like I was a 1-year-old who wasn’t being watched carefully enough. You get the point, I wasn’t good with creating art through those mediums. However, in the schools I went to k-12 a camera wasn’t a medium we were shown. We didn’t have photography class in highschool, and phones growing up didn’t have 1/4 of the quality they do now. I wasn’t shown photography until my brother decided that’s what he was going to do with his life. Even then, I was just in awe of it. I didn’t want to become a photographer until I went through issues of my own with depression. So, growing up, I wasn’t an artist, I wasn’t good at math and science. So my idea of what I’d do with my life stuck to my imagination of creating whatever job I wanted. Now, looking back I find it funny, because I probably did what most kids do and created imaginary stories where I was a firefighter one day, and a wedding gown designer the next. I dreamt, I did whatever I WANTED in my imagination. My parents allowed our imaginations to run wild, and they allowed us to dream as big as we could. So I guess I had it pretty good, I had the key to my life, and I was ready to unlock any door that came my way. In highschool when approaching the age to look into colleges, I still had no idea. I was looking into technical colleges. I wasn’t anything, I also was no good at sports, I felt like my life was a game of “hot potato” and I felt like every job I’d once created as a child was now something un-reachable. I was proved wrong though when fashion entered my life. I was in awe of the glamour, the clothing, every aspect of fashion inspired me. All I wanted was to be in retail, all I wanted was to be one of the girls in the magazines that wrote about fashion… Randomly one day, I grabbed a Blackberry (are those still around) and took photos of my friends in my clothes, that I styled. Jackets in the hot summer, dresses in the cold winter, and really anything I could think of out of the ordinary I’d try to do. That led me to a photography/styling page on Facebook, that when I reached 100 likes, I might have cried of happiness. I couldn’t even imagine 100 people in a room, let alone in a room for me. That same spark as a child I once had with imagining a career of my own, where I succeeded was back. My parents still didn’t stop my imagination from creating this world I had for myself. I spoke about the places I wanted my styling to bring me, I spoke about living in NYC, in the tallest building, and I spoke about being this girl I’d dreamt of being out loud. Not a single person in my family shut me down, and with my Facebook page I felt so sure that’s what I was going to do. So I started looking into schools where I could achieve this dream. Minneapolis, Fargo (HA), NYC, California. Anywhere, everywhere. I was looking. I probably called the school to, without anyone knowing. I was this small town girl who just wanted to achieve her dreams. As time moved forward, I started to notice a passion for capturing the image instead of actually styling for the image. So, I decided to get a little more serious with my photography, upgrading to a broken camera that I’d found in a cupboard at my house and now finally editing my photos with Picnik! (Please tell me you remember those days!) Anyways, I eventually became so passionate about creating a story, creating a memory, creating something through this object in my hands. I didn’t consider myself an artist yet, and I had so many obstacles that I approached that made me feel like what I was doing wasn’t worth it.
Time passed, I kept capturing, posting, likes kept coming, and ideas were fuming. I was this body filled with so many ideas, and thinking back at them I laugh. But they started it all, all of those ideas brought me to where I am today. I’m still a girl dreaming, and hoping to accomplish my goals. But I’ve grown, and I’ve learned so much, I am an artist today. I create with my hands, I spend hours & hours on images for clients, for myself. I am emotionally invested in my photography that some days when I just can’t seem to get it right, I cry, days when I’ve accomplished what I’ve set to do, I cry and smile. Photography is the one thing I have never given up on, in 5 years. If that isn’t a milestone, I don’t know what is. I am crying as I write this post, because I am so proud of myself, I am so thankful for everyone that’s ever supported this life of mine. There’s something to say about thinking you can’t possibly do anything or be good at the things you try, to find that you have a place, you have a spot and you have a talent. I am so far away from the goal that I have set for myself in photography, but from the spot I was at 5 years ago, I have reached my goal I set then. You’ve got to keep setting them, keep reaching, keep imagining, and keep living the life that is yours. You can, you will, and you should reach for the stars.