A Different Beast

There were many years of my life when I could not photograph mountains the way I wanted to, and when I moved to Calgary I knew I needed to take advantage of being so close to some of the most beautiful peaks in the world.  I left Calgary feeling confident in my ability to work a camera around mountainous terrain, and I really thought I had gotten comfortable at photographing anything.  These past few weeks on the east coast have definitely proved me wrong.  

I am enamored with water.  Every time I'm near any sort of stream, or river, or lake, or ocean, I end up with literally hundreds of pictures.  I absolutely love the way it looks, and moves, and dominates, and reacts, but every time I get home and unload my photos onto the computer, I'm stumped as to what to actually do with these shots.  And now that I live so close to the ocean, I'm finding my hard drive being filled with salt water, but I just don't know where to go with it.  So I decided to take what I know and add a little bit of Kansas to the beach.  At least it's a start.

To Be or Not to Be

It's been about three years since I've gone off my anti-anxiety medication, which I went off of for a number of reasons.  First, I left it at home when I went back to college after a holiday, and had my sister mail it to me.  I didn't think it'd be a big deal to be off of it for a few days, but I was wrong, and had a huge meltdown that left me in bed for two days.  The idea of being that dependent on a pill scared the shit out of me.  Second, another sister had put me under the impression (whether she meant to or not) that I couldn't be on these pills forever, and that also scared me.  If I couldn't handle a couple days, how could I handle going off of them when I'm pregnant, or when I need to just stop?  And last, but not least, I felt like my art was suffering.  I thought I could no longer feel really passionately about something, and for that reason I would not be able to dig deep inside of myself and pull out a beautiful, emotional piece.  

Although these past few years have been pretty rough, I was able to learn to cope with my emotions to some extent.  My photography picked up, I learned to write every day and focus on the good things, and every now and then I could actually talk myself down from my irrational thought processes.  But it's been exhausting, and there are still so many days and nights I spend worrying about, well, nothing.  

For example, I was up for two hours last night, worrying that my dental history would mean I could never give birth to a healthy baby.  And I can't stop feeling so completely lost about my role in life - what happened to that 18-year-old who would blast Ani Difranco into her ears late into the night, feeling like the world was her oyster and she could be whoever she wanted to be?  What does it mean that I put my husband's career before mine - something that I never thought I'd EVER do in my life, but here I am?  What does that mean about me?  This amount of stress and over-thinking is killing me, so today was the first day I've gone back on my medication.

I know I have the support to go back onto the medicine, and ultimately it will be a good thing.  But that doesn't mean I'm not terrified of what will happen.  When my brain is chemically-balanced again, will my art suffer?  Will I still feel so happy and excited about life when I do feel good, without knowing how bad I could feel?  Will I ever be able to go off of these pills, comfortably?  I just have to remember to look up, to breathe, and to trust my situations.  I deserve to feel strong and independent, regardless of my circumstances.  The only thing holding me back from all life can give me is myself.  I have a wonderful family and husband who have been telling me this for as long as I've known them, and I hope I can finally start listening.  Everybody deserves to feel good.

Creation from Freeform Emotion

I am.....emotional.  It's hard for me to hide my feelings, and most of the time that's a great thing.  I've started creating my own photographs in my own space and time lately, and I'm starting to see my own emotions really creep into them.  Take this piece, for instance:

I like to call it "The Wizard of Oz".  I created it near the end of my summer in Kansas, knowing that my time was coming to an end, feeling all the pictures I had taken over the past few months swirl around in my head, wondering what adventures would be coming next.  The shed, the toads, the architectural stars and smoke bomb in the air - they were all main images floating in my mind all summer.  To put them all together took a lot of my time and energy, along with a huge weight off of my chest.  After making this, I was not as afraid of what I had missed this summer, and a little less anxious about my future to come.  

And now, here I am, on the east coast, trying to figure out what it's going to bring me.  My emotions have been those of which I wish I was better at hiding lately, and I decided I should try to create something new to help me breathe:

And this image is the best way I can describe feeling right now.  Lots of turmoil inside, but trying to keep it all in.  The longer you stare at the ocean, the more you realize you could never, Ever control or contain it.  It is its own beautiful beast.  I know, over time, these rocks will be eroded away, and the ocean waters will be free to take over again.  It's not a bad thing - but at this point in time, it's better to observe my emotions from the outside, rather than be engulfed in them.  In due time, these waters will be free again, and a powerfully wonderful force to see.