Thank You, & I Love You

When I reflect on my childhood and upbringing, I have incredibly tender, loving memories. My father is an equal contributor with my mother in those memories. He brought joy into our house with his love of music. I remember being little and crawling up into his lap on a recliner in our living room to nap with him and listen to music. He played guitar by my bedside as I fell asleep.

He showed up (and continues to) in every way that mattered. He was there for me when I fell and got hurt, when I was sad, when I felt creative and to celebrate my successes. He was there at my sporting events, my dance performances, and family dinners. He encourages me in my endeavors, whether that is photography, education, or career moves.

My dad is the most selfless person I know. He worked hard every day while I was growing up to provide for our family. He has shown me what it means to care for others through your actions and acts of service. I would sometimes find little doodles on my paper bag lunches growing up. He and I created a story about a long lost princess and her cobbler father. He read to me The Paper Bag Princess and instilled in me the knowledge that I can take care of myself.

I am thankful our relationship has continued into adulthood. We go see movies together, grab dinner often, and usually get into deep talks about faith at some point. He knows a little bit about just about everything, a trait he has in common with my brothers. To be honest, it infuriates me a bit because I wish I was the same way. But I know a little bit about a few things, and that’s good enough. Because he respects me just the same.

Happy birthday, dad. I love you with my whole heart.

Perspective

These are the last film shots I took on campus at Sacramento State before we transitioned to virtual learning. When I got them back from the lab this past week I was transported back to the day and moments I took each one, as I always am with film.

I remember this day being really difficult. It was a work holiday, so I got to campus quite early, thinking I would use the extra hours to get homework done. The weather was just starting to warm up, so I’d get comfortable in the cloud coverage, then the sun would arrive and warm me up too much. I moved around campus several times, trying to find just the right spot. Along the way I snapped these photographs.

At the time (and currently now, but for different reasons) I was struggling with motivation for one class in particular. I was annoyed at the format of how this professor chose to run the class. And overwhelmed by the statistical, dry content of the class. I remember thinking several times that day, “I do not want to be here right now.”

With this transition to virtual learning, I find I’m yearning even for the old experience of this class that has vexed me the entire semester. I miss being on campus. I miss seeing my classmates face-to-face, catching up in the hall before class, or making jokes in side conversations. I miss the routine of work, then school, then exercise. I miss the energy of thousands of students around me as I walked through campus.

I am also nervous that distance learning will have to continue into the fall semester. I wonder how I’ll handle that prolonged absence of in-class instruction and in-person interactions with my cohort and professors. I’m sure I’ll adjust, as I’m trying to do now. But I will also feel a deep sense of missing out. One of the many great things I’ve learned in my program though is that you can have two seemingly contradictory feelings or thoughts at the same time. I can be both grateful for my health and wellness, and be mourning the loss of the old, familiar, and comfortable.

Film in the Time of Quarantine

It’s been nearly a year since I last posted here, since I last shared my film, my thoughts, and my musings. I could blame that on the fact that I’ve been in grad school now for almost a year. I could blame it on the struggle to learn how to balance working full time with going to school full time. I think the truth is, I was stretched thin by my schedule and felt very little motivation to write or create or produce.

The frequency with which I shot film declined greatly, too, in the last year. I started spending my weekends working on homework, rather than going on road trips, or simply exploring my neighborhood. I missed seeing Vhonn and Lorenzo at Photosource every week or two. I missed the thrill of getting my digital scans back and reliving the moments I had captured on film.

This quarantine has been difficult to adjust to in a multitude of ways. But there are several things I’m finding gratitude in amidst the chaos. I’m thankful for the sunshine that comes out and the lovely green lawn outside my apartment. I’ve spend many afternoons on a blanket or lawn chair, reading, eating, observing. I’m enjoying getting to know my neighborhood better as I go on daily walks. There are so many beautiful gardens and unique homes. Most of all, I’m thankful for the need to create that this time and space in quarantine has produced within me. These photos are from the first few weeks of quarantine. I’ve got another roll I just sent down to the lab, and I can’t wait to receive those scans, then share with you.

Hidden Falls

I’ve been feeling drawn towards Instagram lately…At the end of 2018 I made it my goal to be social media free for 2019. I posted about it here. And in that post I also gave myself permission to not go the whole year without social media. I know that my goals, my growth, my desires, they change and fluctuate. The main goal behind this intention though was to become more intentional, to be more present, and to take photographs for my own self pleasure, not for the likes.

This past weekend I was in Auburn at The Pour Choice. While I was waiting in line a man two customers ahead of me looked at me as if he might know me. I didn’t recognize him at all, and honestly my first thought was, oh no, maybe he recognizes me from a dating app and is going to say something?

He placed his order, then stepped aside to wait for it to be ready. Again he looked at me and this time asked if my name was Kelly. I said yes and he proceeded with one of the most beautiful compliments I’ve ever received. He said he follows me on Instagram and loved my photography, that I capture things he never would have thought twice about looking at, but is inspired and intrigued by it. I felt so high in that moment, and also so humbled. I appreciated the bravery it took for him to actually say something to me. It felt so genuine and like encouragement from the Universe.

When I see friends they often ask me how I’m doing without social media. My first and truthful response is that I love it. I love not having the pressure to go out and do cool things so that I can post about them. I love not looking at other peoples’ lives, filtered and curated to look amazing, and feeling envy and lust.

I also feel like I miss out on some things. I’ve been putting in a lot of work lately to be social and try new things. The reality is that businesses and local events use Instagram and Facebook to promote their functions. I miss out on those events unless a friend screenshots it and sends it to me. I moved to midtown six months ago now and this was partly why - to become more social and in the heart of the action.

I have mostly toyed with the idea of getting back onto my film Instagram account. I like looking through my own page to see my adventures and my progress, to be reminded of the things that are important to me that I’ve captured through my camera. I also primarily follow film accounts and gain inspiration from those posts. I had a coffee date with a recent graduate of the high school I work at and her vote was for me to get back on Instagram. She reminded me that the population I love working with and for (adolescent girls) is on social media and looking for positive roll models. I want to share my passion with the world, I want to challenge myself in my craft, and I want to focus on using the Instagram platform for building community and connection.

The day-to-day can feel like a never ending rat-race to get to the top - to be recognized, to be complimented and validated, to be the best. My goal in getting back onto Instagram is to look at it from a macro perspective. This is a big, intricate world of people, talents, and goals. If I can stick to my own passions, maybe I can avoid the comparison and competition.

Or not. And in that case, I’ll go back to being in the dark. It’s all just trial and error!

Dear Digital Diary,

Tonight I took a dance class for the first time in twelve years. I am not usually one that struggles with debilitating anxiety. I feel stress about finances, in social situations, and anxiety in regards to new environments. But for the most part, I can manage and get through it.

Tonight I had to do a lot of retraining in my mind. I danced in high school, but that was (what felt like) ages ago. And I never felt comfortable with improv or freestyle dancing. In fact, I felt paralyzed with fear by the idea of having to move on my own. Give me choreography and I’ll learn it and work on it. But ask me to move my body on my own, and I freeze up. Tonight I had to constantly work on retraining my mind to be open to the experience and to let loose.

Self-doubt crept up countless times. Would my back hurt after class? Could I remember the choreography? Would the other women in the class be looking at my like a fool? Everyone except for one was thinner than I am…

Although I don’t live with constant or paralyzing anxiety, I know that I live in my head too much. It’s difficult for me to drop into my body, into movement, into intuitive movement. Which is odd because I feel so in tune with my intuition, as far as listening to when she tells me to say no, yes, or where to go. But I guess that’s more directional, more black and white. And movement, dance, connection, that’s feeling, not thinking.

The dance class, over all, felt like a success. The success was in simply making it to the class and lasting the whole hour. I picked up the choreography. I realized how out of shape I am in my legs. I talked myself down from tearing myself down and forced myself just to move, no matter how stupid I felt. I don’t know that I’ll ever truly let loose and feel free moving my body like that. It doesn’t come naturally to me. And perhaps it doesn’t come naturally to the majority of people. Maybe it’s the same trap we fall into with thinking that what people post on social media is the whole truth and nothing but the truth, when the reality is that it took a lot of work to get there.

What I do know is that I will never be perfect at anything. Perfection does not exist. Real talent and skill takes countless hours of mess ups and failures. Real life asks us to show up and be present. Real life is teaching me to be freer, to take myself less seriously, and to show up. Real life, in the moment, is where I want to be. And I want to be there with courage and excitement.