Project 35: A Year of Photos

I've been thinking about new goals as the new year approaches, but I'm also trying to really appreciate the things I accomplished this year. I turned 35 in January, and for some reason this birthday really hit me. While I don't feel particularly old, I feel like I am undoubtedly of "mom age." So, to celebrate, cope, etc., I devised a photo project for myself to commemorate the year.

Called Project 35, the idea was to end the year with four sets of 35 photos taken within 3.5 miles from my house, within 35, within 350, and within 3500 miles. I framed this project rather loosely, with the idea that I wanted to notice and appreciate what was right around me. It definitely got me out exploring a lot of small towns around here and gave me that extra bit of purpose I needed when I set out with my camera. (This is the bane of my existence, needing a purpose behind everything.)

Halfway through the project, I took a fantastic photo class called the Jackson Hole Photography Workshop, taught by Michael Sherwin from WVU and John Holmgren from Franklin and Marshall. It had been years since I'd been to Jackson Hole, and I hadn't been back out west since leaving Montana in 2007. While there this time around, I had the distinct feeling of being in the right place at the right time, something I must admit I haven't felt a lot lately. I was so excited to be learning from photographers who are also fine artists, alongside other people who were as psyched as me to be sent outside with their cameras in amazingly beautiful settings.  

This was a college class, and since I was one of four non-traditional students, I often got dibs on sitting in the front of the van with Michael or riding with John in his pickup truck. I talked to John a lot about his work and how he created projects for himself (be sure check out his stuff--he does some really interesting mixed media pieces of the man camps in North Dakota, as well as some great work in the arctic). I told him about Project 35, and his comment was this: Just finish it. Whatever you do, just complete the project. So I did. 

You can check out all four sets on my Flickr site. I've organized them chronologically within each album so the progress will be apparent. If there's one thing the photo workshop did for me, it was to give me a more critical eye. Suddenly I began to see technical problems I'd completely missed before, and it was surprisingly difficult to find 20 good images for the final portfolio, despite having taken hundreds, if not thousands, during that week. That said, I don't hold these groups of 35 photos out as being fantastic, because I can see lots of flaws, but more as an example of one way to move forward while trying to develop a skill.

Since taking up photography more seriously about two years ago, I've wondered exactly what my style is and how to make my work hang together. This project has been really helpful because some themes and commonalities have emerged.  

Do you see any trends? Anything worth pursuing further? As you'd expect, the new year needs a new project.

Networking: It's not an evil word.

Artist Colony in Jerusalem

Metal sculpture detail

When I was in Israel a couple years ago, my friend and I wandered through a sweet little artist colony tucked away in the old part of Jerusalem. We walked down a set of stairs and through an open gate of sorts onto a small, slanted street lined with shops and work-spaces for various types of craftspeople. The picture above hangs on my living room wall, and lately when I see it I wonder who the artists working there are (Are they Jewish? Muslim? Christian? Is it a place where religion doesn't matter?) and how they're faring with the recent violence. What was interesting about this place though was that it seemed very much like a community rather than a tourist area--like a place where artists had gathered to benefit from each other's creative energy. 

I've never made my living as an artist or lived in a particularly artsy community, but the happiest I've been in a work-like space in the ten years since I graduated from law school was when I worked in a letterpress shop in Louisiana with Kathryn Hunter of Blackbird Letterpress.

It was the oddest thing, getting to do that. I had just moved to Baton Rouge from Bozeman, Montana, and I'd decided I wanted to learn about letterpress printing (this from reading a piece in ReadyMade magazine about a letterpress shop called Yeehaw Industries in Knoxville, which sadly has since closed). So get this. I googled letterpress printing in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and up came the website of a girl who not only went to undergrad in Bozeman, but who also made art quilts. And I had just gotten into quilting. (The modern kind, like this.) Sometimes these coincidences astound me. So I emailed Kathryn, went to meet her, and we became fast friends. She taught me how to run her giant hand-fed printing press, and together we made invitations, cards, bird flags, and other things to sell at the Baton Rouge arts market, and we got her Etsy shop up and running. I learned so much and had such a great time. 

                            A letterpress card Kathryn and I designed together. Love this guy.

That didn't seem like networking to me. That was just pursuing something I found interesting. If you'd asked me several years ago what I thought about networking, I'd have thrown up a little in my mouth. That word had this slimy, schmoozing connotation for me. But lately I see it completely differently--it's about connecting with people you genuinely like, who are doing work that you find interesting and respect, and keeping in touch in some way. 

                                           red hand by Sarah Seldomridge

Even so,  when  my step-dad suggested I start using my network a few months ago, my first reaction was: I don't have a network. But slowly I started thinking about the people I know--even casually--who are doing things I think are really great. And since I started paying attention, I see that there are more of those than I thought. I really like the idea of consciously seeking out a network of inspirational people, and I think this can be useful in several different contexts. The most obvious is to use it to build connections to help you get a different job. But lately I've been working on building a creative network.

                                            hot foot by Sarah Seldomridge

My lovely friend Sarah Seldomridge, who has been drawing and painting for the past ten years in Boston, (and recently had a two lady show there at Voltage Coffee & Art with her friend Amanda Laurel Atkins) has been giving me feedback and encouragement on my work. We actually set up a phone date before her show to talk about hers. And we're finding that it really helps.

       still life with jif by Sarah Seldomridge

Another artist friend recently asked me if I could be her artsy accountability person, and we've been emailing each other once a week to say what we plan to work on for the week and report on how last week's things went. It's been so helpful!

So whether it's for work or for fun, let's start thinking about who our people are and try to connect with them. Who knows what might happen?

A little inspiration for creative block

I've been having some trouble creating lately. For months I've been going into my sewing room, pulling out my fabrics, and trying to think of what to make. And then I get up and walk out. Unless I have a specific goal (that new porch swing needs a cushion), what's the point?

I saw an interview with Elizabeth Gilbert (of Eat, Pray, Love fame) recently where she talks about why you should create. Not for money, not to "help" people, not to make it your career--because you love it. (She also mentions how you'll have to eat shit sandwiches no matter what--even if you're doing something you love. Also important to know.)

So the question is, how to get over that mental block? This summer I met a yoga teacher who's interested in yoga therapy for artists. Her advice? Just play with scraps. That was June and this is October, but this weekend, I finally did it. And I had so much fun! Such a rush from making these two little potholders out of scraps and old jeans! Who knew? The general message here for anyone who wants to start something--anything at all--is to start small.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about what kinds of things I really want to do, that will actually give me some genuine fulfillment. One thing I've realized is I need to start interjecting some fun into my life in small ways. Like listening to podcasts while I work. Or finding inspiration from other creative people. In addition to craft therapy, here are a few things that have been helping:

lifestyle/artsy inspiration:

Scott Dinsmore's TED talk on finding work you love: A short inspirational talk that focuses on the importance of surrounding yourself with people who are doing things that inspire you.

Design Sponge: I've been reading this blog since 2006, and it's still going strong. I love the house tours (who doesn't want to peek inside other people's homes, especially ones with really great style?), the before and afters (I'm a sucker for a good furniture makeover), and I'm also enjoying the cool new trends emerging, like a focus on fine artists and creative businesses.

Apartment Therapy: Another longtime favorite. This blog covers a lot of territory, from how to select the best modern couch to how to do a really thorough closet clean-out. And of course, they also do house tours, featuring a really wide variety of locations and styles.

My Name Is Yeh: Molly Yeh is a fun, quirky musician who lives on a farm in North Dakota and is making some really delicious-looking food that draws from her Chinese and Jewish heritage. And she's only 25! 

discussions of real questions/issues:

Inside Appalachia podcast: This is helping with my continual quest to understand why people want to stay close to home, but it's also really nice to hear about people who love this place and still return to it and make work about it while living elsewhere.

Dear Sugar podcast: A radio show hosted by Cheryl Strayed (author of Wild) and Steve Almond, where they read and analyze letters from listeners seeking advice, sometimes drawing on their own experience and sometimes calling another person to consult on the issue. Their perspectives are nuanced and understanding, and even if you don't have the problem they're discussing, just listening helps you understand humanity a little bit more.

Death, Sex & Money podcast: Created by native West Virginia Anna Sale, this show is about topics people tend not to discuss openly, including mental illness and the obvious issues listed in the podcast name. 

Ask Polly: A weekly advice column written by Heather Havrilesky for New York Magazine's The Cut. Heather is real, she's bold, and she swears like a sailor. I love her way of encouraging people to really get into life and be vulnerable and take risks and try to be authentic and true to themselves. This column comes out around 1 pm on Wednesdays. (Or you could be crazy and just subscribe to it.)