Sweet love, sweet love
Trapped in your love
I’ve opened up, unsure I can trust
My heart and I were buried in dust
Free me, free us ~ Christina Aguilera
(Self Portrait by Me)
I have hidden myself away for so long that I have become to the realization that I am terrified to learn if some one can truly capture me as I truly am. I normally do not write about myself especially in such a public manner. As I sit here in my sweatpants, t-shirt and listening to music I found myself in tears for I have yearned to have someone capture the soulful part of me. I had someone once half assed photograph me ( by this I mean she did not take the time that she did with another that she found stunning in her eyes), she sent it to me and everything that she once confided in me about how if she is photographing a woman who is homely that she has them pose profile. I remember that moment thinking what a horrible thing to say about a woman. And then when I saw the photo I knew that she had thought of me as homely and not beautiful. That pissed me off and then I found myself internalizing it to every moment that I photographed other girls and women. I never wanted them to feel the pain I felt. Now do not get me wrong that was an amazing experience it taught me a huge lesson. Then I had decided that I was not going to expose myself in a manner that would be vulnerable again and that was over three years ago.
It is amazing how in this journey I have buried myself, the little girl who up until I was 23 had never been in a book store to the woman who is turning fifty and does not have a visual legacy to pass onto to whoever will pick it up out of the pile of the past hidden in an attic. I know can you believe that! When I listen to music I find my self dancing silently inward letting it move me to create. I am a romantic at heart, yes strange right (insert laughing for those who secretly know me). I love walking into a book store letting my fingertips run across the bindings of the Art section and its sub genres. It brings me back to a place when I could smell the oils, feel the textures of the paint on the canvas as the palette knife had left its mark.
When I am photographing a woman it is as if time has slowed down to tenths of a second, watching each fragment of movement from the flow of her hair when she tossed her head to the corner of her mouth as she begins to laugh, then she instinctively looks down and away as though there is a secret she is protecting within herself. The secret is that every woman does this from the moment she is a little girl to when she has drawn her last breath and to me that is romantic. I love when she is in her quiet place legs propped up and her arms wrapped around them as she leans in to rest her chin when she is looking outward. I love when she walks past a rose bush she reaches out her finger tips grazing the tips of the thorns knowing there is a protective nature about it, I am drawn in to recreate the action of the emotional message. Just as when she is walking the beaches the wind is blowing her hair and then she looks down towards the shoreline taking her right hand guiding each strand of her hair out of her face as she breathes in the air.
For me I have never forgotten what it felt like to have a sultry velvet dress draped over my body and how magical it felt, or the way I feel when I have a pair of jeans on and a soft fluffy mohair cowl neck sweater on as I am sitting in the snow dreaming of a skating rink in the middle of the woods that is lit up with lanterns. It is invigorating as the winter air creeps in to my lungs with a vengeance almost paralyzing my lungs just for a split second. Yet I can not help but take a second deep breath as I am looking down the path of untouched snow glistening in the moon light. This moment I could sit in the snow with a good book like the Golden Compass. Yes that is right I love young readers. It keeps me youthful and helps keep my imagination light lit. I think that is important to cherish the girl in me. I don’t always have to be serious but I do have to honor the joy in what I do and who I am. That is something that we all need to celebrate I think.
Although I wear my heart on my sleeve, I am a private person really when I am. So what is Sunday for me then after all this internal sharing? Where will I begin my next fifty years as in just under three months I will be celebrating the next phase of my life? Hmmm…. I want to continue capturing the extraordinary moments in the girls and women who come into my world. To celebrate them and all of their splendor. To sit quietly and really hear them without words but their body language. To be a care taker of their heritage. Yes to create a time stamp and add more life witnessing experiences for me to catalog in my visual analogy of life.