Writing Prompt: Self

I’m having fun with my self-portrait assignment. We are supposed to take 12 to 16 photos to print out and bring back in two weeks. We are supposed to write down our intent in taking the photographs and document the process.

I decided to use photos of me as a child as a launching point. My idea is to recreate the mood of the photos or a gesture or a look. I don’t really mean recreate, but to find something in the childhood photo and bring it forward in time, reflecting it in the adult me. I figured that for better or worse our childhood selves often reflect a very authentic and unadulterated part of ourselves. That may be an idealized view. As soon as we are born, life starts taking its toll, but I think back at my childhood pictures and remember genuine emotions whether they be anger, fear, puzzlement, joy. So, I know what those things looked like then, what do they look like now? That was my idea anyway, but I didn’t want to be too literal about it and of course, just using the same props or gestures may not produce the same emotions, but they’ll produce something else. So, I figured, I’ll use the childhood pics as a beginning and follow where they lead.

Technically, it’s not too easy to produce self-portraits in general and especially at my house. Almost every wall is full and I don’t really have any backdrops. I don’t know yet how to use my camera remote, but I do know how to use a self-timer. I find that as I have written before, I love the iPhone because it frees me up and combats my perfectionist tendencies so after trying several shots with my digital SLR, I returned to the iPhone. I’m having fun, which is the important thing, but equally important is something else I learned. Like many people, I can’t remember a time when I really felt content in my own body. Still, I didn’t mind pictures of myself or being photographed and loved looking in the mirrors. I did this because it proved that I was there, real, substantial. I didn’t always have people who reinforced this, so I learned that if I wanted a reflection I had to literally find one. Even so, I don’t remember ever really being satisfied with what I saw. I struggled with my weight all my life and even when I was so thin that my collarbone showed I can remember feeling fat and worrying about my thighs.

Looking back at these pictures, I realize the little girl in them was pretty. She deserved to be loved by me more. It makes me wonder what I will think of the pictures taken of me now when I look back on them in the future. Maybe I should appreciate this person now as I am. So, I am trying to be bold in the pictures I take and in the sharing of them. I’m going to keep posting on the process. Tomorrow I’m going to try some pics with the pugs and me.

Writing Prompt: What did you like about your childhood self? What did you hate?

Portrait of Alfie in Black and White

Self, Authenticity and Others

Today I attended a photography class called Who are You: Self through Photographic Image. In addition to expanding my photographic repertoire, I thought it was a good way to explore some of the same themes found in memoir through another medium – the visual. Our instructor, Polly Raine, encouraged us to be authentic. It is the same message, Jon Katz, our leader at the Hubbard Hall Writers Project tried to drive home. In my memoir class, I explore the idea of truth in memoir with my students: What does it mean to tell a true story? Is a story true if memory is flawed, if your perspective differs from others, if you have to manufacture dialogue, if you shape it to be more literary?

Today Polly asked us if a photo is a self- portrait if someone else is in it, if no one is in it, If someone else snaps the shutter or helps with the concept or the lighting? And, what does it mean to be authentic? Do any of us know ourselves, is knowing yourself the same thing as feeling comfortable with yourself?  These are important questions and just as I instruct my students, Polly instructed us, that we have to reach conclusions for ourselves, come up with our own working definitions of self-portrait, memoir and as in life, decide what it means to truly be our authentic self.

Sometimes this means deciding what to include and what to exclude – do I share this story or do I keep silent? Do I show my face or leave it out? What is the best way to be authentic and to share this self with others?

I have found that sometimes the knowing comes in the doing. In order to figure out who we are we have to take the picture, write the tale, share the story. For me, I sometimes find out who I am by looking at others. Their lives serve as a mirror into my own. Such is friendship with Joan, my pug Waffles breeder. I have found myself writing a lot about her on this blog and it wasn’t until one of my readers commented that she loves my stories about strong women that I realized this was part of my fascination with Joan’s life – her strength and her vulnerability. I am drawn to paradox. It is part of what I love about religious study – paradox abounds in the Bible – a crucified messiah, the word made flesh, truly god, truly man. I see strength and vulnerability in myself. It is probably in all of us. But sometimes I am strong when I should be vulnerable and vulnerable when I should be strong.

Polly said that traditionalists would argue that a photograph cannot be a self-portrait if someone else presses the shutter and that it can be argued it may not be a true self-portrait if someone else is also in the picture, because having someone else involved, by its very nature, changes the dynamic. Yet, no man is an island right? Like a tree falling in the forest if no one is around does it still make a noise? Are any of us anything in isolation? Even when we are the only one’s in the picture, we are not alone. Someone is always reading the story, looking at the photograph. It’s always our voice, our portrait, but how can we be authentic if we don’t acknowledge that?

We are social creatures. Isn’t my truth always being reflected and bounced off those around me? I’m not sure it is possible for me to disconnect my story from those around me – Joan’s story is my story, my mother’s story is my story, my friend Sheila’s story is my story – all these women, all these people both strong and vulnerable, are me. I look at them and learn who I am and who I want to be.

Writing Prompt: Joy of Crows

To call yesterday frigid would be an understatement. I’m not sure if there is metaphorical equivalent to “hot as hell” when it comes to cold weather, but when the temperatures drop below zero here in the north country, it can become a bitter hell all its own.

I surely felt that way when I was out running errands yesterday afternoon. The quick walk from the local soup and sandwich shop to my car took on expedition proportions. Hunkered down beneath layers of woolen hats and scarves, LL Bean thermal jacket and heavy sweater I felt like I might have been climbing Mount Everest. Once inside the car and safe from the arctic chill, I turned the heater on high and basked in the warmth. It was then that I spotted the crows.

A few cars down from me, a flock of very fat crows was feasting. A blue pickup truck had a load full of garbage and these birds were claiming it as their own. They were going to town, pecking holes in the bags, grabbing morsels and flying back and forth from car to tree as if they were on a Caribbean vacation. They seemed oblivious to the cold. They were not oblivious to me.

Unfortunately, I had left the house without my camera and since I wanted to capture this merry crew, I was resigned to using my i-phone. This meant I had to get close, but each time I tried, the crows would fly away to a nearby tree. They were smart. They waited for my car to circle, would fly back and grab some more grub and fly off again when I came close. This picture was the best I could do, but it does little to show the immensity of the birds or their meal.

I watched them for a long time. You can argue with me all you want about whether animals have emotions and whether they experience the world the same way we do. I’ll listen and at times I may agree, but yesterday as I watched this company of birds I knew one thing – in a world of bright blue skies and subzero temperatures, I may have been experiencing hell, but these guys were in seventh heaven and they were happy at the banquet table.

Writing Prompt: Write about what's in front of you right now.

Imperfection

I love this photo, but it is not perfect. In fact, I took it to my photography class tonight and my teacher said it didn't work for him. It doesn't matter. I could look at it for hours and it's the imperfections that attract me -- the movement, the blur, the white space, the lack of detail. Perhaps it's because I see what isn't apparent. I see Waffles staring off into the distance, into the emptiness, into the white. I see her separateness, or independence, her alien interaction with the world. There is a distance I cannot bridge, a space, a boundary between photographer and subject, between human and dog. She is her own creature, she sees something I can't see. Her back is to me, her face is to her tomorrow. I see her fur, the lines that form her, the way the light caresses her. I see that she will not be still and frozen by my camera. I am drawn to this picture not because it is perfect, not because of the bond between us. I am drawn to this picture because it is imperfect and full of life and movement. I am drawn to this picture because it and its subject cannot be tamed by me.

Walk

 

Sometimes when it looks like you are wandering,

lost or walking in circles

You are blazing an unique

and beautiful path.

No two roads are the same, no other footprints

leave your impression.

No one can understand the halting, the circling,

the standing still. They can’t see the trail

you leave until it’s done.

They need perspective,

You need to keep moving on.

Wild Child

I am taking another photography class with my friend and teacher Jim Block. I have taken the class before, but learn something new each time. Our assignment this week is on working a scene and perspective (as in seeing things in a new way). Because I haven't been feeling well, I haven't really gotten out and about to take any photos, so I have concentrated on taking pictures of the pugs (my favorite subject, anyway) usually inside and at night. Because of the low light conditions and my laziness in not using a tripod, a lot of my pics have been relatively noisy and subject to motion blur, but I have also managed to capture a few I love. Above is Alfie, caught mid-yawn. It was actually  a quiet moment for her in between a game of chase with Waffles, but perhaps because it shows her teeth, to me there is a bit of the Wild Child captured here. She reminds me of a lion in the wilderness.

Not Playing it Small

I started a new semester of teaching tonight – three students. I found myself sharing with them my writing from the blog and telling them about Barbara Techel’s book, Through Frankie's Eyes, which I have just reviewed. One student wondered what he had to share and I told him how I had just read Barbara’s book about how her experience taking care of her dog helped her grow in confidence and find an authentic life. The pieces seemed to just come together. In the past I would have been reluctant to read my own work to my students, but tonight after I had them write about a first impression, I read my piece Tears on meeting a perspective owner for one of my friend Joan’s puppy. I shared my own insecurities when it comes to writing, letting myself be vulnerable and they seemed to respond. I’m learning and growing, like we all are, and in being open and honest, we foster each other.

One of my favorite quotations is by Marianne Williamson: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

I have long cherished these words and shared them with others, but each day I am learning to live them. As I shared the other day, we have been talking a lot at the Hubbard Hall Writers’ Group about what it means to live an authentic life both as people and as  writers and have concluded, that in large part, it means a willingness to be open and vulnerable. That’s a big move for me. You spend a lifetime trying to build a façade only to learn that it can be a dungeon, locking you inside. On one hand, I have always been open and honest and direct about my feelings, but another part of me I’ve always kept safely locked inside. Now I’m taking the above words to heart, playing small does not serve the world.

That’s something my little black pug Waffles already seems to know. Here, she shines large, a queen in her snowy tiara. She is a tiny powerhouse, shrinking from nothing. Never playing it small.

My Trees

Tomorrow I head to Cambridge, NY for a meeting of the Hubbard Hall Writers' Group. Still not feeling well, but eager to reconnect with everyone and get to work on our writing. Tonight, however, I continued my reentry into the world by doing some errands, which included stopping by the  K-mart Plaza to see my trees. I'm still amazed at the beauty of this tiny isle amidst the concrete. They were planted for simple ornamentation, but each time I park my car along this strip I have to stop and look at them and I always see something new.

Major Photoshop Problems

Major problems with Photoshop tonight. Actually Adobe Bridge and Camera Raw so my computer is busy backing up files so I can try uninstalling Photoshop CS5 and install CS6 tomorrow. I hope it works. I'm still under the weather, behind in work and minor inconveniences suddenly seem like major problems. Personally, being a writer and not a techie per se, I see almost any computer problem as major, but let's hope for the best. Anyway, since I can't access most of my photos at the moment and my mind is on thumbnails, camera raw converters and other geekie stuff, a real blog entry will just have to wait. For now, I'm leaving you with this scene from a storefront window I snapped the other night.

Keep your fingers crossed I get things working and I'll be back tomorrow!