Tag : Lomography
Walking this new path in my life, managing this unexpected part of the journey, I find myself fumbling. I’m tripping over unseen roots and keeping a kind of hyper-vigilance. I seem to be holding my hands out in front of me as if to protect myself from branches and brambles, trying to keep the painful obstacles that might be ahead at bay. I suppose I am quite literally feeling my way.
Although I feel lost most days, I keep moving forward. I keep reaching out in front of me. Listening to mySelf. And I take step after step. While I am completely unsure of where I’m headed and what the destination may be, I know one thing for certain. I am going THROUGH. I know there is no going around. There is no evading what is, however painful and difficult it may be. There is no outrunning the truth, the heartbreak, the grief.
There is only THROUGH.
It’s been quite some time since I loaded up my Diana camera and took her for a spin. I’ve been very focused on shooting with my Polaroid and digital cameras, so my Lomography has been sorely neglected. But when I signed up for a photoswap a short while ago, I decided it would be a great time to load up some of my expired 120 film stash, and have a date with my Diana. I shot a roll of film and sent it to my photoswap partner, she shot a roll and sent it to me, and then we each developed each others roll of film. I’ve been eagerly awaiting the opportunity to see the photos I shot for her, and I’m happy to report she shared them with me this weekend. Without further ado, and in all their unedited film glory, here are a handful of them.
*sigh* And now I’m reminded all over again about the vintage awesomeness that is Lomography. I still get the square format like a Polaroid photograph, and I get the vignetting, the grain, and the surprises of 120 film shot in a “toy” camera. I guess this means I’ll be carrying my Diana with me along with my SX-70, my Canon AE-1, and my dSLR. I can feel my back breaking already. The things we do for art, right?
Wow, March. You are bringing some absolutely beautiful weather. I think you may prove me wrong about one more turn toward the cold. While I’d much rather be enjoying this early Spring, I’m staying inside, resting and fighting this lingering cough. This weather is reminding me of a beautiful day in New York City that I spent shooting with Melissa of the Long Haul Project.
I just love these “fountain girls.” I wish I was outside right now with a good friend, enjoying a gorgeous day and having a lovely chat. But for now, I’ll hold on to this moment I captured on film.
The past month has born witness to me getting reacquainted with my lovely little Diana who has been sorely left out of my camera bag for months. Lomography is quite a different challenge photographically (at least for me) compared to shooting with a digital SLR or with my beloved Polaroid cameras. Although it can certainly be difficult to switch to analogue AND to be using a viewfinder that only sorta-kinda represents what the lens is actually seeing, I forgot how much FUN it is!
You’ve seen one of my favorite Diana shots from my recent trip to Oregon here in this post, but I thought I’d share a few from my time in NYC this month. For those that might be interested, all three of these were shot with Fuji Pro film with an ISO of 800.
I love a vintage sign…
The chess guys in Washington Square Park…
And my absolute favorite Diana from both the Oregon and the NYC rolls of film…
I’m grateful to be reconnecting with my Diana. I’ve missed her. And I’m looking forward to bringing her along on more adventures (next up, Boston!).
What about you? Do you switch up cameras? Or other modes of creating (acrylic vs. oil, paint vs. pen)? Any other Lomographers out there? Anyone else get such BLUE tones with Fuji film?
I’ve been back home from my coast to coast travels for a week (although there was an overnight trip to Kansas City thrown in there a few days ago to see Ray LaMontagne and Brandi Carlile), and I’m just now beginning to feel a bit more settled. As I wrote last week, this re-entry has been rocky. The rockiness stems in part from the widely diverse portions of my trip and the unfortunate timing of them, as well as from some difficulties I found myself immersed in and having to manage immediately (and ever since) upon my return. I’ve learned the hard way that a creative retreat scheduled back-to-back with an intense training institute for work does not a good combo make. Although I ultimately had no control over the scheduling of these two very important experiences, I wish I could have done it differently. Flying directly to research training in New York City following the Tribe retreat in Oregon couldn’t have been worse timing. Suffice it to say that being launched into discussions and presentations on heady emancipatory research methods and philosophies did not allow for the time and space I desperately needed to savor, reflect, percolate, reminisce, re-live, journal, sing, smile, and cry about my experiences with the Tribe in Manzanita. I tried to get up early each day while in NYC to write “morning pages,” to journal, to capture my memories, thoughts, and feelings about this inaugural Tribe retreat…but it simply wasn’t enough. However, I am grateful that I carved out these little bits of time as it allowed me to at least hold on to some fragments of my experience with eight other amazing women in a small coastal town in Oregon…
There are 11 of us in the Tribe. Two of us couldn’t make the trip. It broke all of our hearts. The rest of us 9 came as almost-strangers. I knew the most members having had the luxury of meeting 3 women previously. Some of us knew one other person in the group, whereas most knew no one with the exception of their online personas via blogs, Twitter, and Facebook. Yet we each took a leap of faith…a chance to find community and support for our creative journeys. An opportunity to perhaps discover mirrors for our lives. We each said “yes” to a calling, a yearning, a longing. We each trusted the Universe to do its thing. And we each did our part.
I can’t possibly recount all the details of our 3.5 days together. But I can tell you that when a group of women come together with open hearts and courageous souls, MAGIC happens. I can tell you that there was poetry and songs and dancing. I can tell you that there was creativity with words, paint, glitter, ephemera, tesserae, and film. I can share with you that there was an abundance of love, kindness, joy, trust, compassion, patience, faith, sharing, play, and wholeheartedness. I can also tell you that there was doubt, heartache, fear, uncertainty, sadness, and not-knowing. And there was room for it all.
I can tell you that I’m savoring the shared experiences of our histories as well as our disparate paths. I can share that I’m holding close the expectations of thinking and planning grand and then the shift toward beginning small, starting close in. I can tell you about the bravery of being re-pictured and the strength to roar. I can tell you that it takes courage and struggle to know oneself, truly know oneself. I can share with you the constancy of the ocean and the stars, and the surprise of the sun. I can tell you about the small and not-so-small kindnesses. I can tell you about the collective conversations, and the more private ones, too. I can share with you that there is power in a tiara. I can tell you about the “yes, those earrings/dress/pants/t-shirt/ring/scarf is perfect for you.” I can share with you the ways in which 9 voices formed a beautiful collage. I can tell you all of these things. And yet…none of it scratches the surface of all that transpired, all that we shared, all that I felt.
As I have been reflecting on this gift of a retreat, I’ve also been diving (again) into The Artist’s Way. Much of what Julia Cameron writes regarding sacred circles for the Artist’s Way is exactly what I was looking for in putting together the Tribe and dreaming this retreat into reality. Cameron writes, “as artists, we must find those who believe in us, and in whom we believe, and band together for support, encouragement, and protection.” She goes on to say, “Like neighboring constellations, we can serve each other both as guides and as company. In walking your artist’s way, my deepest wish for you is the company of fellow lights and the generosity to light each other’s ways as we each pass temporarily into darkness.” YES! This is what I was craving and needing (and still need!) when I began to put this seed of an idea out there. I am grateful to the 10 “yeses” I got in return. I also want to encourage any of you reading who don’t have this support to create your own group, your own Lovebombers, your own Tribe. The Universe will rise up and meet you. It will do its thing!
Thank you to Sophia, Darlene, Celina, Elizabeth, Sarah, Melissa, Rebecca, Emily, Stef, and Lindsey ~ for saying “yes,” for being my neighboring constellations, and for allowing me to light some of your way. And thank you, Universe, for doing your thing ~ as always.