I know that we are so much more than we see. We are not our photographs, not our reflections. Yet, in those things there is an aura of truth. The eyes see, but the heart processes. The more we look the more we feel.
Fleeting glances reveal but surfaces. To go deep you must absorb, and that means looking with organs other than eyes.
Intent is crucial. You have to want to see. If a photographer takes this approach, the resulting images will more likely reverberate with an energy beyond the visual. Why does it matter? Because such portraits leave an impression. Because the human behind the image will register.
You want to capture attention, and hold it long enough for a person to feel something. It’s not about vanity. It’s about conveying the essential you. Passion, commitment, care. That’s what you want to show. You don’t get that from a selfie. You don’t get that from an assembly line photographer.
When you choose a photographer engage a person who engages you. Choose wisely. The wrong doc...
I can think of no better birthday tribute than this ODE to Carla, who found me through my book. Happy birthday Carla.
She read Serpent Box and reached out to me. Apparently something I wrote a long time ago resonated with her.
We spoke on the phone and exchanged emails. She's a kindred spirit for sure. Her work is vital and fascinating. I'm still discovering her.
To have developed a friendship through a novel I wrote many years ago is a great gift, and still a surprise to me. Yet not. Serpent Box has called in all kinds of people. It continues to change my life.
But this is about Carla, with whom I share a humble respect for indigenous peoples and culture. She's also a writer, and a teacher, and a guide. I recommend investigating her websites. Who knows what doors it might open, what ideas it might shake loose?
When we write, and publish what we write, we are inviting other minds, other souls, to intermingle with our own. We think we're telling stories to strangers when what we're really do...
It begins with an image. And the location we choose is almost always an intuitive guess. In my mind it has to have some thematic relevance but also offer an opportunity for interesting curves, texture, shadows, light. The photograph I ultimately select says something about the person, but it also acts as a palette that will contain a story.
Taft here had just graduated high school and was going off to college back east. And we wanted this to be a tribute to her spirit and to her life. Just below the surface we see more. And only through one’s willingness to explore, to want to know, can we truly absorb a story. Here she stands, exuberant, above the city that helped make her who she is. She’s wearing the cool pants she made. And she’s ready to take on the world.
This ODE is dense. There’s a lot to explore here. Some words are large and thus easy to read upon first glance, others are small, requiring further exploration. This is intentional. I have always imagined ODEs as interactive maps...