reverse faults
I am growing to really appreciate this time of elevated consciousness that we are in at present. The capitalistic co-opting of “self-care” aside, I’m encouraged by the collective desire to better ourselves and our communities. You can’t scroll through Instagram without being bombarded with memes challenging you to do more and do better. Some are comical in their approach, others feel like a punch to the gut. To quot one of my favorite lines from A Belle in Brooklyn “Instead of attacking the truth, evaluate the sting.”
If you’ve read any of my previous posts you can probably see where this post is going… back to the work.
After years of questioning my commitment to art, lamenting over impostor syndrome, and reexamining my WHY, I realized the thing I kept leaving out of the conversation… the truth.
The truth came to me about a month ago as I sat in a cafe with my friend Jacqueline. An amazing friend and photographer (and ceramist and food justice advocate), she always encourages me to create. For 10 years we have been having the same conversations and for 10 years I have been giving various versions of the same answers. Until October 23rd. I don’t know what was in my latte that day but when she asked why I stopped making work, I finally told her the truth. The truth is I lack the confidence that comes with knowing your craft because I haven’t been dedicated to really learning my craft. The words stung as they left my mouth. They still sting. No artist wants to admit that they’ve chosen to be a novice for 10+ years.
I was reminded during a conversation with another friend that I came into photography at a time when being self taught was all the rage. A badge of honor if you will. The part I’ve been missing was the teaching or rather the learning. I stopped being a student. I attempted to use what I had and let my work speak for itself, but it (I) never quite said enough. So I hid behind these ideas about inspiration and motivation (and the lack of it) instead of owning my truth and more importantly, honing my skills.
“Don’t be someone that searches, finds, and then runs away.” - Paulo Coelho
Elevated Consciousness
Getting to the place of honoring the truth, my truth, wasn’t some grand gesture. It wasn’t an “Ah Ha” moment. For the past couple of years I have been very intentional about understanding the behaviors holding me back from living my best life. I’ve read a few books that have really helped reshape my perspective about life and my experience of it. None more important than The Untethered Soul. This book continues to help me see ways in which I attempt to control situations, create stories in my mind based on my desires, and criticize current situations based on past feelings. It’s all about honoring the present moment for what it is. No expectations, no disappointments. Just living moment to moment. It’s hard. If you’re into that sort of thing, I highly recommend it.
THIS SHIT IS HARD. But its worth it. I’m seeing through my own bullshit without trying to justify it. For a person that has been married to the stories I’ve made up in my head FOREVER, this is a major shift. Having this thought process translate to my creative work is new and exciting. I’ve tried to break through creative blocks before but I only nicked at the surface. Working on the whole of who I am, who I’ve been, now I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere.
That where is here. Right now. Embracing the fact that I don’t know shit. That I have much to learn. And if I want to do this, really do this, I have to put in the work to really know my craft.
Today
Today I came across the photo that I’ve been waiting for. The sign that lets me know there is still some life inside of me. The photograph that makes me want to pick up my camera. Today Spike Lee posted this. This is the type of work I want to make. I’ve always wanted to make.
a young Spike Lee, photographer Unknown
(Re) Defining "The Work"
I’ve been thinking a lot about impact in the wake of the death of Nipsey Hussel. I have the privilege to live in Los Angeles. Working in the real estate industry by day, I have paid special attention to the impact his ventures have had on a community that is rapidly changing in demographic. The energy surrounding the city right now is so intense. I have seen call after call from friends and people that I follow on social media to declare how we as individuals will keep Nipsey’s visions alive, and how we will continue our own marathons.
My Work
Ask anyone that knows me and they will say photography is my thing. My father introduced me to the medium in 2006. He gave me my first camera, a Vivitar 35mm, and took me out with him to shoot. He would bring out his Mamiya C330 named Geronimo, uncovering it from a navy blue Joan & David dust bag. He would never let me use it. Venice Beach and Redondo Beach Pier were our spots. When I decided to take a couple of classes, he ruthlessly critiqued my work and challenged my aesthetic. My excitement of newly developed film quickly turned to fear of him exposing me as having no talent. He really wasn’t that harsh. Over the next few years there was a huge surge of people around me pursuing entrepreneurship and encouraged me to do the same. Imagine how amazing life would be if I actually got paid $$$$ to do this thing I loved. I’d never work a day in my life! The allure of getting to choose my own schedule was enticing but I decided not to quit my day job. I did start taking event gigs. This isn’t really what I wanted, I wanted to be an artist, but I had a lot of support. My dad thought it was so cool that people were paying me to shoot their events. I miss him.
He left us, me, 10 years ago today. After he passed, my love of the medium turned to indifference. It was something I didn’t think I wanted to continue, so I stopped. For about 8 months. New opportunities came to shoot for people I couldn’t pass up… (cough) Terrell Owens (in the midst of his reality TV fame) (cough) Ava Duvernay (before she was the Ava Duvernay everyone knows and loves). I felt as though fortune (dad) smiled down on me and blessed me with opportunities to really do this— for real. But I wasn’t ready. My skills hadn’t developed enough to really seize and capitalize on the moment. My heart wasn’t in it enough to try. So I started to refocus on the art. I shot events less and less and took more opportunities to participate in group exhibitions. Fast forward seven years and a billboard group show later, I’m back at the place where I don’t know if I want to do this anymore.
I remember a conversation I had with Ava after I photographed her event. She asked if I was shooting because of my passion for it or because of the connection I have to my dad. At the time, I felt like it was a bit of both. Today, I can’t say it’s either. I love photography. But I also love art.. and connecting with artists… and supporting artists. But I’m not sure if it (photography) is still (or ever was) my work.
Last year I decided I wanted to attempt to produce an art event. Exhibition design had appealed to me for some time but access to a space and a lack of art history know-how made this a difficult feat. So I used what I had. I convinced a friend to let me screen a few of her short films over two days with a full discussion and q&a in my apartment. It was amazing. This year, I facilitated a conversation with a writer about her first book. So much fun. We have plans for a more intimate event in the works. I really enjoy the mechanics of putting on an event. But more importantly, I love creating a platform for artists to further express their ideas (although speaking in front of crowds gives me major anxiety). My oldest dream , that I can remember, I run a creative space that is part cafe, part bookstore, part art gallery, part performance space. Like a Bus Boys and Poets with L.A. vibes. It basically combines all my favorite things. But this has always been just a pipe dream. As much as I enjoyed hosting that screening and the idea of having a space, I don’t know if that is “the thing”. The excitement and feeling of accomplishment really came from helping an artist actualize a vision. So how do I get there? To the thing that sets my heart on fire? How do I define this work? Is the platform the work?
On Impact
My good friend Joi, posted some tips on how to get over some of life’s hurdles on her IG stories the other day. The one germane to this post is about consistency. She writes:
Get clear about your “why” and make sure it’s something bigger than you. If the reason you’re doing a thing is for fame, money or only to fulfill your own personal needs, you will likely quit as soon as it gets hard. But when your reason is aligned with a BIGGER purpose, that’s often enough to keep you going when you want to give up. Because you’ll know you’re not the only one who will lose if you don’t follow through.
Perhaps that’s the place to start. With why.
Visual Interest: THe Burial of kojo
Sometimes I wish I could see as other’s do.
I had the chance to see The Burial of Kojo before it premiered on Netflix thanks to the wonder folks at Array. It is a stunning picture. The shot selection and framing remind me of all the things I love about photography. And the colors… the colors. African directors have a different relationship with color than we do here. I love the saturation and the richness of the tones. Colors were another character in this film. The story is beautiful and surprising and wonderful.
Image from imbd
"Inspiration is for amateurs"
I’ve been ruminating on this Chuck Close quote since I saw it on twitter a few weeks ago. The words shot through me with a rush of adrenaline and anxiety. I felt seen and embarrassed. I’ve always considered myself an inspiration guided artists. I don’t think it’s a bad thing to be this way, I’ve created some beautiful work, at the same time however, when I look back on the inconsistency with which I produce work… seen. Today I decided to find the full quote for context (and to hopefully take away some of the sting)…
Inspiration is for amateurs - the rest of us just show up and get to work. And the belief that things will grow out of the activity itself and that you will - through work - bump into other possibilities and kick open other doors that you would never have dreamt of if you were just sitting around looking for a great ‘art [idea].' And the belief that process, in a sense, is liberating and that you don't have to reinvent the wheel every day. Today, you know what you'll do, you could be doing what you were doing yesterday, and tomorrow you are gonna do what you [did] today, and at least for a certain period of time you can just work. If you hang in there, you will get somewhere.
This quote is taken from an interview with Brain Pickers published in Inside the Painters Studio
Yeah, no. Still stings.
Evaluating the sting
I have always been drawn to the idea of artists. The mystery. The eccentricity. The cool. The freedom. They just seemed to have amazing lives. From living in some fantastic loft with big windows and concrete floors to spending all day doing whatever they wanted. Wandering the streets at night in search of some inspiration then creating into the morning. In my mind, this idea was the embodiment of how I wanted to live. How I should be living if I was going to call myself and artist. I’ve had a day job since I graduated college. I sleep at night and rarely go out let alone wander the streets. So I didn’t call myself an artist. My favorite line for longest time has been that “I make stuff.”
I accepted a while ago that my antiquated idea of what an artist was and how an artist lived was off base but I still thought about creating (for me) as inspiration driven. And I’ve stuck with that thought despite reading tons of books that push doing the work above all else. I leaned more into the idea floating around about doing what feels good for YOU. Not allowing anyone else to tell you how to live your life yadda yadda yadda. There is comfort in the validation of your feelings. Especially when you are using those feelings as justification to not make stuff. Especially when the impostor syndrome sets in after you start comparing yourself to your peers. Inspiration is for amateurs.
Impostor syndrome is the alcohol on the sting. The sting is in the belief that I, by using inspiration as the tool to make work, am an amateur thus validating the impostor syndrome. Now do I have to believe this to be true? No. But would it still sting if I didn’t? I’m inclined to say no. This entire quote is an indictment on my creative process.
I haven’t shot anything (for me) in over a year. All things considered, it’s time to get to work. And put my faith in “ the belief that things will grow out of the activity itself and that you will - through work - bump into other possibilities and kick open other doors that you would never have dreamt of if you were just sitting around looking for a great ‘art [idea].' And the belief that process, in a sense, is liberating and that you don't have to reinvent the wheel every day. “
Adult Things
We are almost ten days into the new year and I haven’t been here in over a month. No, I didn’t take a ceremonial end of the year social media break or anything like that. I just haven’t had anything to say. One thing I’ve come to understand about myself is that I value silence. There is so much to learn in the quiet. I also understand that the world has an absurdly short attention span. The less you have to say the more likely you are to be forgotten. Luckily for me, I’m not worried about being forgotten. I’m sure hardly anyone knows this space exists. And that is completely fine with me. Now that that is out of the way….
I ended 2018 having serious discussions about money. Spending money. Managing money. Saving money. Setting ones self up for an inevitable future. Money. A question was posed to me about life insurance and renters insurance. I have neither. The question got me to thinking about the unthinkable. The new year always encourages you to focus on the things you want to change so I started looking into getting myself some insurance. I started with renters insurance, it being relatively cheap and considering I have a budding art collection, I figured it would be wise to get some.
I went to the googles and started my search. Buying renters insurance is like buying car insurance. You can go to one site and they will find you the best rate. Awesome. Filling out the info, I had to figure out how much insurance I actually need. I mentally appraised the contents of my apartment and settled on an amount above what was recommended (I like nice things and art). I am then matched with a company and quoted a rate. Reasonable. Ready to pull the trigger, I scan the site for any fine print I may have missed and I notice a link for the breakdown of the policy coverage. It didn’t occur to me before that I didn’t know exactly what was going to be covered. I was not thinking about it like car insurance. This link was very eye opening. The insurance policy I was ready to buy only covers my items up to the individual coverage limits and doesn’t cover damage that is the result of a natural disaster. Awesome. $2,000 for furniture, $5,000 for electronics, $1,000 for art and collectibles. When I saw that last figure my jaw dropped. Only $1,000 for fine art. How is it possible that the insurance limit for original artwork was only one thousand dollars? If you are fortunate enough to own works above that price point what are you to do? Everyone talks about buying art and supporting artists but no one talks about maintaining your investment.
It can be quite overwhelming when you think about it, maintaining your investment. I saw a post on twitter once that said something like “no one tells you it cost more to frame the print than what you actually paid for the print.” I felt that. The only works I have that are professionally framed I purchased that way. Framing is expensive! This search for the best way to insure my assets has given me a headache and anxiety. Doing the work of compiling all the bills of sale and any certificates of authenticity, photographing each piece, getting an actual appraisal on the pieces; it’s a lot. But it’s also necessary. We can’t invest in things we can’t afford to protect. We also can’t claim ignorance once we learn what we didn’t previously know (and google is free). I did find a site that will catalog your archive and keep all of your paperwork in order. I’m also eager to highlight the artists and works in my collection. Soon come.
I find myself having more and more of these conversations about things that feel very adult. Like insurance. The closer you get to 40 the more illuminated these things become. Which opens the door for another conversation about access to information, class and cultural norms. A conversation I don’t feel like having today.
The important thing is that in 2019 it is on my radar and something I won’t continue to ignore. It’s information I am sharing and I’ll finally know what the work I’ve collected is worth. Win win.