The beach is not the place to work; to read, write or think. I should have remembered that from other years. Too warm, too damp, too soft for any real mental discipline or sharp flights of spirit. One never learns. Hopefully, one carries down the faded straw bag, lumpy with books, clean paper, long over-due, unanswered letters, freshly sharpened pencils, lists and good intentions.
The books remain unread, the pencils break their points and the pads rest smoothly and unblemished as the cloudless sky. No reading, no writing, no thoughts even - at least, not at first.
At first, the tired body takes over completely. As on shipboard, one descends into a deck-chair apathy. One is forced against one's mind, against all tidy resolutions, back in into the primeval rhythms of the seashore. Rollers on the beach, wind in the pines, the slow flapping of herons across the sand dunes, drown out the hectic rhythms of city and suburb, time tables and schedules. One falls under their spell, relaxes, stretches out prone. One becomes, in fact, like the element on which one lies, flattened by the sea; bare, open, empty as the beach, erased by today's tides of all yesterdays scribblings.
And then, some morning, in the second week, the mind wakes, comes to life again. Not in a city sense - no - but beach-wise. It begins to drift, to play, to turn over gentle careless rolls like those lazy waves on the beach. One never knows what chance treasures these easy unconscious rollers may toss up, on the smooth white sand of the conscious mind; what perfectly rounded stone, what rare shell from the ocean floor. Perhaps a channelled whelk, a moon shell or even an argonaut. But it must not be sought for or - heaven forbid - dug for. No, no dredging of the sea bottom here. That would defeat one's purpose. The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should like empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea.
--Gift from the sea, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh.
Looking ahead at the summer my feelings are mixed. As of a few days ago i was confident and sure that the summer was going to be grand. That i would move up to Washington and live and work a simplistic existence for 3 1/2 months and everything would be sunny and rosy... and maybe it will be, but doubt has crept in.
When Brian left Wednesday night, summer hit me hard. A combination of certain functions of the female body and the emotion of knowing that i will hardly talk to or see my boyfriend for 4 months, as well as the exhaustion of the week left me pretty distraught that Wednesday night. Questions came up from deep within, questions that i had buried with a relentless optimism that could be looked at as childish. Questions like, what if it sucks up there? What if i hate it? What if living with a family besides my own sucks? What if i never talk to my Boyfriend? What if he forgets about me? What if? What if? What if? Summer had snuck up on me... Brian and i had been talking about summer and what it would look like for us as if it were a thing of the distant future, and then all of a sudden, summer was here. It came like the clang of a bell, or a slap in the face.
I have a couple weeks of time between Brian leaving, and me moving to Washington. I have a feeling that these next couple weeks will be the hardest. I tell Brian the same thing every time he goes away: that i miss him more because my life when he is gone is the same as it ever was, minus him. That is not a fun equation.
I dont know what these weeks will hold for me. They have already been interesting, with the renewal of a friendship that a year ago was broken. Situations like that, that have left me asking God "Why right now? Why right before i leave?"
This summer, i feel, will be a summer full of questions. Questions about God, about myself, about my relationships, about my future. I think that God sort of wants me to himself this summer. He is removing me from all that i know, my family, my boyfriend, my comfortable jobs, my friends, and placing me five hours away in a little town at the tip of the Washington peninsula.
But at the same time, its so clear to me that he wants me there. If nothing else, i have clarity in the fact that Port Angeles is where he wants me. I KNOW that, and as long as i know that im just where he wants me, i can do it, even if it sucks, even if its hard, even if i get lonely. I think God wants to get me out of the noise of Portland and of my life here, to a place where i can hear him. Where i will have nothing better to do than to spend time with him.
My heart is longing for the adventure of this summer. The newness of everything will be exciting. My hope is that i can come back in the fall and know myself better, know what i want and what to pour myself into. I want to come alive in Christ this summer. Like a woman who has recently been married, who sees the world through the lenses of being so wholly and entirely in love and is loved in the same manner. I want to glow like a newly wed, because my savior is my everything, and i love him, and he loves me.
All of my "what if?" questions are now becoming: "What if God was in control?" "What if i trusted him?" "What if he has something for me this summer that i dont know about?" These are the what if questions that make all of the other ones disappear. A lot of times, everything i struggle with, just goes back to God asking me "Do you trust me, Shelli?"
So, Jesus, i trust you. I know that you have something for me this summer, and i know that you have me right where you want me. I thank you that you know what i need, even when i dont.
Amen
Shelli
When Brian left Wednesday night, summer hit me hard. A combination of certain functions of the female body and the emotion of knowing that i will hardly talk to or see my boyfriend for 4 months, as well as the exhaustion of the week left me pretty distraught that Wednesday night. Questions came up from deep within, questions that i had buried with a relentless optimism that could be looked at as childish. Questions like, what if it sucks up there? What if i hate it? What if living with a family besides my own sucks? What if i never talk to my Boyfriend? What if he forgets about me? What if? What if? What if? Summer had snuck up on me... Brian and i had been talking about summer and what it would look like for us as if it were a thing of the distant future, and then all of a sudden, summer was here. It came like the clang of a bell, or a slap in the face.
I have a couple weeks of time between Brian leaving, and me moving to Washington. I have a feeling that these next couple weeks will be the hardest. I tell Brian the same thing every time he goes away: that i miss him more because my life when he is gone is the same as it ever was, minus him. That is not a fun equation.
I dont know what these weeks will hold for me. They have already been interesting, with the renewal of a friendship that a year ago was broken. Situations like that, that have left me asking God "Why right now? Why right before i leave?"
This summer, i feel, will be a summer full of questions. Questions about God, about myself, about my relationships, about my future. I think that God sort of wants me to himself this summer. He is removing me from all that i know, my family, my boyfriend, my comfortable jobs, my friends, and placing me five hours away in a little town at the tip of the Washington peninsula.
But at the same time, its so clear to me that he wants me there. If nothing else, i have clarity in the fact that Port Angeles is where he wants me. I KNOW that, and as long as i know that im just where he wants me, i can do it, even if it sucks, even if its hard, even if i get lonely. I think God wants to get me out of the noise of Portland and of my life here, to a place where i can hear him. Where i will have nothing better to do than to spend time with him.
My heart is longing for the adventure of this summer. The newness of everything will be exciting. My hope is that i can come back in the fall and know myself better, know what i want and what to pour myself into. I want to come alive in Christ this summer. Like a woman who has recently been married, who sees the world through the lenses of being so wholly and entirely in love and is loved in the same manner. I want to glow like a newly wed, because my savior is my everything, and i love him, and he loves me.
All of my "what if?" questions are now becoming: "What if God was in control?" "What if i trusted him?" "What if he has something for me this summer that i dont know about?" These are the what if questions that make all of the other ones disappear. A lot of times, everything i struggle with, just goes back to God asking me "Do you trust me, Shelli?"
So, Jesus, i trust you. I know that you have something for me this summer, and i know that you have me right where you want me. I thank you that you know what i need, even when i dont.
Amen
Shelli
The building is beautiful. The warm wood is inviting as you walk in the door. As you walk through the hallways the building becomes more and more beautiful. It has an interesting history, however, in one of the hallways there are portrait drawings of the nuns that are said to haunt the hallways. Ghosts from the building's history.
Its said that way back, the building was home to the Lucas family, one of the daughters in this family drowned in a nearby pond, her ghost still walks the area.
In its not so distant history, the building was a convent. A hospital of sorts. One of the wings was used to house the older and sickly nuns and another wing is said to have been a Psychiatric ward. Roughly 200 nuns lived and died in the building. Their bodies are buried in a cemetery not far from the UMSL campus. It seems though, that some of their souls did not rest as well as their bodies did
The drawings that are on the wall in one wing of the buildings are taken from student sightings of the "ghost nuns". Strange things happen to the students that live in the hall on a regular basis. Some hear running on the floor above them when there is no one there. Some hear a tapping on their door when no one is there.
Today, the building is used as the Honors College building for the University of Missouri - St. Louis. My best friend spends most of her time in this building. I was able to shoot some pictures of the building while she was in class. Finding out the history of such a beautiful building was fun and intriguing.
Note: Maren and Steven and Renita, If i got any of my facts wrong please let me know. =]
Citation: Drolet, Kate. "Ghost of the Provincial House." The Current (UMSL Student Newspaper). 2/24/03
Traci and i will both admit, she's somewhat of a difficult model. Not because she isnt beautiful, because she is. Gorgeous, acutally. She just feels really awkward in front of a camera.
We've had many conversations as to why this is, and I dont have much room to talk on this one, because im awkward in front of a camera too, but im the photographer so it works out really well for me.
Anyway, she says she feels like there is someone else there when my camera is around. Like someone she doesnt know very well is hearing her talk about some of her deepest feelings and emotions an observations. An interesting concept, i understand where she is coming from.
Because of this she is always very stiff in front of the camera. She is never completely comfortable and herself when its around. No matter how good the lighting is or how amazing the spot is, i can never quite get my her to be comfortable enough to get a non-posed shot. Its been a little frusterating, but really good for me - if i want to be a photographer im going to have to learn how to draw out subjects from the awkwardness of being the center of attention - so i'll learn what i can from this.
I've been so lucky in the past, that eventually my models relax and enjoy being in front of the camera, but not Traci... She's different. I think i like it about her though, capturing a real smile from her is an acomplishment and she's a challenge. She's helping me learn a lot about photography. Its really good for me, and i like the challenge :)
She told me the other day, that she thought she might do better if i had some sort of goal for her to accomplish. Like, "I want the outcome of this photoshoot to look like this..." kind of thing. Something that i am trying to get across with the pictures.
I thought about if for awhile. It was a really pretty day and that always makes me want to take pictures, and Traci came home and i was like "Sweet!"
I told her i wanted to explore her idea of beauty. I asked her to think about what makes her feel beautiful and thats what i wanted to shoot.
She surprised me with her answers...
Photograph 1-3
Traci feels beautiful when she's streching. She says its something to do with the fact that she was in gymnastics for years and she likes the feeling.
Photograph 4
Traci like the feeling of her hair when its half dry. She doesnt think it looks very good, but she really likes the way it feels when she runs her fingers through it. It makes her feel beautiful.
Photograph 5
Traci feels beautiful when she's wearing those shoes. She didnt give a reason why, but i suppose there's just something about wearing heels that makes a girl feel grown up and beautiful. She says they hurt though. She also likes wearing a slip by itself. I think she said because she likes how it feels on her skin.
Shelli
Im not sure how or why these pictures came about. It was a girlish whim i suppose.
I do belive though, that every picture taken has some sort of hidden meaning, if that makes sense.
I didnt take these pictures for any concious personal reason, i just took them. I didnt take them to make a statement or a point. I took them for me, and im not really sure why. I just felt like it. I guess they are a representation of how i felt at the time. Dont read into them, dont draw your own conclusions, and please, dont laugh... they are what they are, and im not even sure what they mean.
Maybe, they're coming from a feeling of a complete lack of beauty in my life. This feeling mostly come from the fact that i spend half my time in starbucks dress code, and the other half of my time too tired to put any effort into my appearence. It used to be that i would put together outfits to wear on my outings into portland, and dressing up all cute to go see Brian. Lately, you're lucky if you catch me in something besides jeans and a tee-shirt, and i ONLY put on make-up when i see Brian.
Not that its bad, i love wearing jeans and t-shirts... but, i want to feel pretty. I want to feel feminine, and i havent, in a long time. Its too much work, it takes too much time, its not practical for the cold, its not blah blah blah... i have all these excuses... i dont really know why.
Anyway, this photoshoot happened the other day... I wanted to use Jami, but she was sick. So i was like "fine, i'll use myself!" I dont really make a habit of doing self portraits... i think its kind of ridiculous to do a billion of them, but at the same time they're sort of an emotional release too, maybe its a pride thing, or maybe im just afraid that if i take pictures of myself, people will see my heart open in the picture. Maybe its a combination of both...
I went upstairs and put on the black dress. I never really have any occasion to wear it. I think i've worn it once, to the symphony. I never go anywhere nice enough to warrent a gorgeous black dress. The lipstick was an afterthought. It was in my makeup basket, i was just like "eh, why not."
I was wearing slippers, it was a bad idea. It was all muddy so i ended up taking them off. So there i was, in the middle of february barefoot and sweaterless, in the middle of a field of dead grass and weeds, in a black dress and red lipstick taking pictures of myself. Thats a funny thought. Maybe thats why i dont do self portraits... i just look stupid doing them...
It was great though, i really enjoyed it. I felt pretty i guess. That was nice.
Im still not sure what they mean, but meaning or not, they were an emotional outlet.
So there you have it, one of my first attempts to use photography as a personal outlet rather than trying take the most amazing picture in the world.
enjoy?
Shelli
Stars and Seahorses
I used to wear a star necklace. Pretty much all of the time. It was a simple white star made out of some sort of shell material on a plain black string. Nothing fancy but i thought it was cute.
I bought it in Mexico. My cousins took me with them on thier vacation to Mexico to nanny thier 18month son. It was awesome. We were walking a long a strip in Playa Del Carmen, a town a little ways out of Cancun, and i saw a variety of necklaces made out of some kind of shell material on a simple black string hanging in the door of a shop. For some reason they caught my eye, the star especially, but we kept walking and i didnt want to stop. I kept looking for another shop that carried them, but this little shop was the only one. Luckily we had to walk back by it to get to the car.
I did end up buying it. I probably payed too much for it, but by that time i was too tired to try and bargain for a better price from the wrinkled mexican lady who was running the shop... whatever.
When i bought it, it didnt mean anything special. I didnt buy the necklace because stars had some sort of specific meaning to me. I just bought it cause it was cute, and i wanted a necklace from Mexico.
What was interesting, though, is that as i wore it, it kind of became something special. I hardly ever took it off. If i did, people would notice, my family and friends would comment on the fact that i wasn't wearing it. It was interesting. I tried a few times to make up a really good story as to what it meant, but nothing seemed quite right. It just was what it was, a simple star necklace that looked really cute with dresses and jeans alike. That, i think was my favorite part about it. I could wear it with anything!
Two years i wore that necklace, i think... It went through about 3 strings, but i still kept wearing it.
This spring/beginning of summer me, and 4 cousins my great aunt and my grandma went to Hawaii. It was a great trip. All 5 of us cousins got along really great and we truly just had a good time with each other.
While we were there, My cousin Hannah and i were walking in the lobby of our hotel (which was amazing, the lobby was all open air and the hotel was just beautiful!) and there was a Hawaiian lady selling trinkets on a table there. My grandma told us we should go look when we were down there, so we did. Amidst the carved turtles, and bracelets that say "Aloha!" there was a bunch of random necklaces made out of whale bone on a plain black strings. They instantly caught my eye, but i didnt really like any of them because honestly, who wants a carved turtle around their neck? Sort of at the bottom of the pile, though, there was the most beautiful little seahorse pendant. It was intricatly carved and even had a small shell for an eye on it. I was told that these were all walebone necklaces that were hand carved by the vendor's husband. It was goregeous, i had to have it.
Unfortunatly, Hannah picked it up first. Her friend Alyssa LOVES seahorses. She was going to get it for her. I was a little bummed, and i asked the lady if she had another one. She fished through a bunch of baskets but didnt have any luck. She kept looking though, and luckily found another one. feuf.
I bought it, and took it back up to my hotel room. Then i took off my star. There was almost pang of remorse as i slid the star off of my neck, but the seahorse was SO cute, and besides, the star didnt MEAN anything too me, just like the seahorse didnt, psh! It wasnt really true though, the star did mean something to me, i'd worn it for so long that it just did.
I put the star in my makeup bag and tied the new necklace around my neck. It was really pretty. I sort of missed it for awhile though.
I ended up giving the star to my boyfriend, he kept it on his keychain and i think because of that, the tips chipped off and it broke. I was sort of sad, but at the same time, i wasnt.
I almost feel like that star symbolizes a time of my life that is over. I know its just a silly little thing, but i wore that star ALL THE TIME. Through a lot of highschool i wore that thing, through a lot of experiences and a lot of stuff, i was always wearing that star. It was bold, it was bright, it was sassy. Oh yeah!
When i bought the seahorse, a new chapter of my life was begining to unfold. I had literally, JUST graduated from highschool. Responsiblility and worry was weighing heavily on me for lots a reasons and spring and summer were a time of immence change, and a lot of pain and questions.
I remarked to my boyfriend at one point, that the seahorse is a much more delicate item than the star was. Its beautifully carved and made with care, where the star was just a simple pendant. I felt like it was the same with me. I felt like i was more delicate, i felt like i was less bold, and less sassy. I feel like some of the roughness in me has been worn off, some of the points of the star are gone. Its a good thing i think.
The seahorse i wear now symbolizes a different time in my life, i guess, and different ME really. Spring and summer and even fall, shaped me into something completely different, SOMEONE completely different.
Its interesting to look back and see the changes. Its exciting.
Shelli
an incounter
I carry my camera with me everywhere. From School to work, i always have it. I left it next to me on the table while i was at a coffee shop in Portland this last week, and i was approched by a man who asked if he could look at it. While this isnt all together uncommon amongst photographers i was a little wary untill the barista behind the counter mentioned that he was a photographer who comes in every day to make phone calls
I let the man look at my camera, he commented on its make and asked me a little bit about it.
Currently, im researching and writing a paper on modern photography and its transition from a more true-to-life documentary use, to a "photoshop fairytale."
This particular afternoon i had articles and books and notes spread out in front of me all of them concerning photography. I asked the man, (who by now had introduced himself as Zac Goodwin http://www.zoph.net/) if i could interview him. I figured it would be a good source for my paper.
The conversation that insued was about an hour and a half long, I sort of picked his brain about many different aspects of photogaphy and got his opinion on a lot of different topics. Talking to him was incredably interesting. I found out he had been a philosophy major in college and that added a whole new spin on things. I was able to talk to him about the philisophical aspects of photography not just technical stuff.
There was one thing that he said to me that really struck me.
We were in the midst of dicussing vernacular photography (if you want to know what that is, i can give you a "definition"). Its uses, its place in history, its place in museums and galleries and i asked him what he thought about Flickr. (http://www.flickr.com/) Flickr is a place for amature and professional photographers alike to post their pictures and essentially get peer reviewed on their work. This happens through comments, favorites and viewes on a particular photogrpahy. Your odds of getting all of those things are greatly inhanced by joining various groups dedicated to different subjects (like a group for cat pictures for instance).
What Mr. Goodwin said to me was this:
"Just because a picture is good on flickr, doesnt mean its a good picture."
I know, i know, not incredably profound, but acutally, to me it was.
I have a flickr, and is pretty much the only way i get my pictures out into the public. I'll surf around flickr and look at the pictures on explore (www.flickr.com/explore Its the best of the best on flickr.) and think, wow, my pictures suck. I see pictures and people who get tons and tons of comments and favorites and notes on a picture that, while its cute, its not amazing. You see, thats what Flickr is all about, its about getting those comments and favorites. Not about taking meaningful pictures. Flickr is a pop culture site for pop culture pictures. Dyptics and triptics of teddy bears and flowers. Over-photoshopped landscapes and cityscapes. This is flickr photography.
Art photography, i think is something entirely different. Art photography, is either aesthetic, just in the photograph itself. Or, it is photography that makes a statement. Something that says HEY, THIS NEEDS TO BE TAKEN NOTE OF. Obviously, the definition around art photography is as vague as the defintion of photography itself. Im not saying this defintion is a comprehensive one in the least, but what im saying is that Art photography, is not the same as whats being seen on flickr.
Its almost like wikipedia, Where wikipedia, is a great resource to hear the current discussions on a certain topic, you wouldnt use it in academic writing. Maybe you would use it as a reference list, but not as a credable source.
Flickr is similar. Flickr is the modern vernacular of photography. The current discussion on the topic, but in no way is it to represent fine art photography, or photography as an artistic medium. If the photography found on flickr, its the future of the medium, well, i quit.
(can you see the influence of research paper writing in this? i feel like im writing a paper in the first person, arguing my point)
ANYWAY,
the moral of my story is, i was pretty well dumfounded by this statement by Mr. Goodwin.
I get incredably discouraged about my photography because on flickr, i dont get comments, i dont get favorites and i dont get views. I dont take pictures that are good on flickr, and y'know what?
THATS OKAY.
Flickr is not the all powerful critic on photography. The flickr voice, is the voice of pop culture. The flickr voice, in all reality, doesnt know what its talking about.
So i cant judge how good i am at photography based on my profile views. Its not an accurate measure. Its just not.
That little statement, and this research paper im writing, have changed the way i take pictures. I've started taking more meaningful pictures. Ive started using my photography as artistic expression of the self, rather than just trying to get a picture explored on flickr. Its been good for me.
Its made me think. I like that.
Shelli