Idiocy and I

I found myself staring at the blinking cursor bar in my status bar. Sitting at the computer today, I only feel a sense of urgency. The nagging feeling that I need to say something, anything, is scratching at my already sore throat. This won't fit into a status bar. Enter blog post. I began tapping keys randomly, hoping that fate might decide which word I begin my post with, and my third finger finds the letter "i." Like a game of charades, I start yelling out words that begin with "I."

"Iodine! Iota! Impromptu! Ionic! Idiot!"

And with that word, I pause. An idiot, I am. I. And so, this blog post began with "I." Ironically enough, it was my inner workings that are demanding an outlet today. A super unprofessional, self-serving, deprecating monologue that will inevitably emerge with my permission or not. When I think about it, there really isn't a choice to be made. Anything that I'm feeling will surely seep into every word I mutter today and fill it with a tainted taste. I am hateful today. Hateful that I am one more person spewing dissatisfaction and inadequacy for the whole wide world to see, and for me to be at today's mercy.

I'm here to remedy that.

In light of the ever-challenging journey to photographic self-discovery, I have to confront what I've been tearing myself apart about. And please don't laugh. I was in a "editing to reflect my style" funk. DON'T LAUGH.

A few months ago, I fell into a project I created myself, with one sole goal; to create one Photoshop action. One action that reflects what I want, what I am, what I feel, adjusting the mood of any photo to portray what stories I have to tell with the images I take. After a few weeks of agonizing, crying, being utterly intolerable and immature- I did it. I drew inspiration from some of my favorite artists. I combined classic technique with rough edges. I threw out beautiful colors. The end result was perfect to me. Excited to showcase what I was proud of, I showed a few people. It only took one or two viewers to respond with silence and a "hey, if that's what you prefer" to crush me. Gosh, I can be such a prat.

As I looked around the internet, desperate to cling onto the work of the successful, I dove into serious self-loathing. I started comparing success, work, business strategies, writing techniques, awards, and anything else I could make an excuse for and add to the list. Until I started to notice a pattern...

None of these people- not one- apologized for who they were. They didn't ask for permission, or seek approval. They did what they felt, and their dedicating passion showed. It shined. And then I realized...

It's not their art I admire... it's their attitude.

I was admiring how careless they were, and how people responded to it. Their honesty was being recognized. Those who followed them, genuinely wanted to. They genuinely anticipated their next album or blog post or sneak peek on bated breath; not unlike I do for so many others. Confidence is contagious, and we all want to be a part of it, if only silently and from a distance.

The weight of all this sudden knowledge crashed down on me and I felt like quite the Idiot, indeed. None of these people asked for recognition. None of them sought a large number of fans on their Facebook business page (as most of us are very guilty of... admit it.) They only asked one thing, even if they didn't expect it- and that was respect. They were themselves. No one could call them otherwise. No one could call them conformists or imposters.

They choose to relay quite possibly the most important and prominent of all messages: "Take me or leave me." And they really couldn't care less.

I can't believe it took me this long to own up to this; to accept it and to let it absorb into my spirit. Never again will I forget. Not for one iota of a second.

I like raw, gritty and sometimes ugly photos. If they show an ounce of truth or tell a bit of a story, it doesn't matter how they look. I respect pretty light. I respect bold colors. I just don't think they take precedence in what I ultimately strive for. I want real. And truth. I want scars and wrinkles and imperfection. If you look through my photos, you will be hard pressed to find what I long for. I love my photos, I'm not shunning my work. I'm shunning my attitude. I am ever evolving and so is my photography. I've got my compass pointed due North as I dive into the wedding industry, where there are endless stories to tell and truth to seek out.