Women in moving pictures

So it's obviously been quite a while since my last post...and quite a few things have happened since then. I won't bore you with the details--they'll surely come up throughout the forthcoming posts. And yes, I promise that I'll be posting more frequently in the coming months! As things in the home life and in the professional realm sort themselves out, I'm finding more time for contemplation (and understanding the critical role it plays in supporting my emotional health), more time for activities that promote contemplation, and--of course--more time for shooting the world around me.
This past Friday I encountered an opportunity for contemplation that made me self-evaluate in a way I feel I haven't done since college. I attended LUNAfest, a film festival of short films made by, for, and about women. These films addressed big issues such as happiness, grief, physical appearance, sexuality and social acceptance. It provoked some very heavy discussion among the women with whom I was attending the festival. The most moving film was South African and showed how people grieve differently. The white people in the film, who inexplicably lost a tiny infant to crib death, grieved in a very tight and formal way, supposedly comforted in the sterile church environment with a stiff priest delivering the standard eulogy. The black people tied to the family who mourned chose to sing a chorus of alleluias that carried through until the film's end. In the face of this singing, the mother of the deceased cracked and sobbed openly.
Seeing this film prompted one of my traveling companions to speak about a devastating loss from 6 years ago: a college roommate and dear friend killed in a car accident, and an ex-boyfriend lost to lymphoma in the same year. I had never heard her speak openly about the topic, and while it pained me to hear her talk about the challenges she faced, it reminded me that as a woman artist--even a part-time one--I have an obligation to address difficult topics so that the silence can be broken, and so that the stigma of seeking help will fall away...

Contemplation of the holidays

When you think all is lost, and everything around you is cloaked in darkness, turn your face to the light, and the light will radiate from your face, and all around the darkness will disappear--poorly cooked turkey, squishy pumpkin pie, in-laws, holiday traffic--all gone when you face the light.

Is this supposed to be fun?

Throw your hands up in disgust and frustration. Lift your eyes to the sky, dotted with lazy puffs of white, and ask the Fiestaware, "What happened to the party?"

A hole--the cause of, the existence of

Today is a sad day. There are no appropriate images that I can find, though I'm using my soon-to-be-spouse's computer, and I can't seem to navigate through the folders well enough to find anything.
There was a shooting here--one that rocked the city because it required the entire north-west commuter rail system to be shut down for several hours. It also rocked our world because the victim was somebody that we knew. Maybe that says something about the city...that we haven't lived here all that long, and we are now networked fairly directly into a shocking, criminal act of anger and hate. Something totally sensless, and I suppose we'll never have all the answers, since the police fatally shot the gunman, who had taken hostages in the law office on the 38th floor.
I now recall the way the tragedy of the Amish school killing was handled by the community...the parents of the children whose lives were changed or taken during the attack embraced the family of the killer, and demonstrated great concern about how this family would manage in the absence of a father. I wonder how it is that these people have the capacity to forgive...is it a spiritual thing? A simple human compassion for others that we all possess, but do not actively cultivate? What would inspire people touched by this Chicago tragedy to forgive as selflessly and completely as this Amish community? I am struggling with how I feel about this incident...and I am embracing the struggle, since I am somewhat removed from the situation emotionally, knowing the victim's wife and not the victim himself. This is a good thing--one of the two of us has to be a rock at times like this.
Know that we are thinking of you and your son, and that we grieve with you...

Go Scots!

I spent this past weekend on the sidelines...literally. I was fortunate enough to attend Woo's 2006 Homecoming events in the company of the love of my life, my dear mum ('70), and my future in-laws. I never realized how much I enjoyed the challenges of sports photography. Actually, in truth, I knew I enjoyed it--I just didn't know how much until I've gotten little tastes of it recently after a very significant drought. Sadly, I'm a bit rusty. But the beauty of digital is that you can crop--a LOT.

Photography as Therapy

While walking through Lowry Center today, I saw a flyer for a photographer coming to speak on campus. The photo associated with it was of a nude woman's torso--very sensuous, and in some ways very private, i.e. there wasn't anything immodest blatantly showing...only suggestions of it...the photographer in question had decided to explore the experiences of women who were photographed nude, or something like that. I believe the project also included journaling. Obviously, the specifics are escaping me now, but my first thought was, "Wow, I think I've used photography as therapy before." It was my way of processing the barriers in front of me and how I was planning to overcome them. Photography can be empowering like that.
The project that came out of that involved several images of people and objects in trapped positions, followed by both people and objects breaking out of those positions. My favorites of this series were, of course, the breakout photos. This included a shattered wine bottle, as well as a shelf of seriously disheveled books covering topics like comparative sexual poetics and similarly "out there" genres. These are the two photos from this project of nearly 50 images that hang in my house today.

Ironman Wisconsin 2006

I never thought it was possible to have an intense athletic experience without actually participating in an athletic event as an athlete. Boy was I wrong! We decided to spend our "summer vacation"--in quotes because it was neither summer, nor really a vacation in the true sense of the word--volunteering for Ironman Wisconsin. Two fantastic people--Jaime & Marc, seen here in photos--were competing, and it was just the incentive I needed to go check out this crazy thing called the Ironman.

First post!

Welcome to a ponderance of life through words and images...let's see what can be done!