June 11, 2011
Working from Passion: Photographic Shifts and Inspiration
There comes a time in every photographer’s career, that they must choose between doing art for pay, or do art for the sake of art itself--passion.
A couple months ago I attended an informational session for those interested in attending art school. Not because I need another educational degree (heavens no), but because I was interested in honoring the creative voice in me that yearned to be unleashed and desired cultivation.
Ive been to a fair share of photography workshops, and for good reason the emphasis has been on producing sellable images—fashion images, product shots, wedding photography, and portraiture. And indeed it has been fun. Yet when the focus of such training is to produce a product that is sellable and profitable--an image that the buyer loves, not one that the artist her/himself loves—the emphasis shifts away from the process of creating, to the product that is created. And in turn, what is lost is not simply creativity and passion, but at times the life and soul of the artist her/himself. And herein lays the centuries long tension: the aspiring artist who gets into the creative field for the love of creating, but then is hit with the reality that s/he must temper the creative passion to produce work for food.
And so, I asked myself today: which will I choose—to put in a few years of work with the hopes of selling a couple shots to the commercial art world? Or simply take provincial pictures that are beautiful, spiritual, and meaningful—in my own minds eye, and for my own pleasure and enjoyment?
And it’s not that one cannot do both, but the question is rather, 'what is the leading and driving intention behind each click of the camera’s shutter?'
At times I’ve shot as a documentary photographer, detailing the life of those in different cultural contexts, everyday street scenes, and life in motion. And at other times, I’ve set up my slew of light boxes and backdrops to produce images for pay. As recent as yesterday I found myself reading a professional food-styling book to learn how to make ‘fake ice cream’ that resists melting under hot lighting. ...But then today, I serendipitously came across the stories of two artists, who invited pause to reflect on redefining my approach to my future creative endeavors.
The first artist was a former Indian styled ballet dancer who, after being seriously injured in a car accident, drew upon different spiritual practices to restore herself. Now a photographer of dance and nature, her work leans toward the abstract, as she fulfills her mission to produce sacred art. I connected with her work out of my own love for abstract art, and with a similar desire to engage in the photographic process as a sacred process, with the long term goal of creating soulful images that warm, inspire, and lead others into worship (e.g. a state of wonder of our majestic Creator). (taken from my current mission/artist statement.)
Today I also received an email from my favorite local Hawaii artist, Heather Brown.
As I looked at her art, I paused to appreciate the evolution of her work over the past few years. I smiled. And I was reminded of the story behind her artistic career. A story that includes quitting art school--walking away from the constraints and confinement of the institution and industry--to ultimately stay true to herself. Each of her paintings is what a Hawaii based surfer girl would indeed see in Oahu’s North Shore. She doesn’t paint regions of multiple islands, nor does she paint aspects of the vast Hawaiian culture. She simply paints what she knows, and she paints what she loves--the ocean, surf culture, and the North Shore. This has become her winning signature; she paints from the heart. And her work is good, because it is authentically her.
And so I sense that in this current season of life, rather than shoot photos for an external source (e.g. food/travel magazine) I’m just going to shoot for me. And I believe that in doing this, passion and joy will be protected and kept alive. And with passion, there is life—in me, and in my images. And as I work creatively from the inside-out, out of a place of inner abundance, I believe that my photographic images, paintings and sculptures will naturally exude a sense of depth, zest for life and engaged wonder.
And perhaps, just perhaps, someone out there might see something they like, and perhaps one day purchase a print or two. Yet nonetheless, if art is created for art sake, this endeavor in of itself is really quite enough.
May 3, 2011
Our Fragile World
Osama bin Laden is dead. I was read a text message just hours after the news hit the media. I was in the passenger's seat of a car, driving down the freeway, late at night. It was pitch black, and silence filled the car. The night before this happened, Americans and those around the world tuned in to watch the Royal Wedding, a most happy occasion that flooded the media with ridiculous fervor. And in good and proper timing, as to not dampen this international phenomena, the news of bin Laden's death was timed to shift the captive audience of the global world in a new way.
"What does this mean for the world?" I asked aloud. I was stunned by the news and speechless. I wondered if his death meant that a new day was coming for the world--a new season of peace, of freedom, of resurrected hope, and the potential for new global partnerships? Or if his death would rise a new tide that arms national powers in fear of further backlash, retaliation, and global destruction.
Does death bring solace, fear, anxiety or release?
As I think about the loss of loved ones this past year, as well as my four friends who are battling cancer, death has indeed been on my mind. And whether death beholds a public political figure (like bin Laden) or our beloved neighbor next door, we are reminded that the world we live in, lest our own individual lives, are fragile, fleeting, and in constant flux. Nothing stays the same. Our lives are always changes.
There are moments to celebrate, to mourn, and in this case of current events, engage in both simultaneously. What bin Laden's death means for world politics and world peace is yet to be seen. And until then, until we see the ramifications of his assassination, we can only grasp and embrace our own fragile lives as we live in the midst of chaos, change, and conflictwith a spirit of communal hope as united human beings on a most precious and fragile earth.
February 12, 2011
Shifting Views on Work
I wrote the following emailed excerpt to a friend the other day as we mused about our work-lives:
"i am shifting my paradigm in relationship to work. in this next season of life i find that it doesn't really matter what i do or where i work; rather, my goal is simply to work with good people whom i respect, trust and can have fun with along the way. it is, i believe, the process of working together that matters more than the objective work-related goal/outcome, and it's about creating a work space where people thrive and grow into their best selves as they {use, share and explore} their {gifts, talents and skills} as we journey together toward a shared objective. and it is the "fruit" of all this, that will naturally bear the good work-results needed for the organization's well-being.
i'd like to work in a way where the outcome is the fruit, not the root, of why we work. this shifts us away from habits of striving, and the dangers of driving ourselves into the ground--where we are often set up to meet high standards of expectations (set externally from the institution/self/other) which often comes at the cost of destroying ourselves along the way (our health, relationships, marriage/family, etc). perhaps we can make and take steps towards creating a work subculture that puts into place healthier work habits that bear good fruit from the inside-out (individually, collectively, institutionally)."
February 28, 2011
My Neighborhood Mosque
It was for the completion of a college course that I first stepped foot in my local Jewish synagogue. Upon selecting a metal folding chair to sit on in the octagonal shaped room, I was tapped on the shoulder by one of the leaders who instructed me to sit on the other side of the room. He didn't verbally explain his request, he just tapped me and wiggled his finger pointed toward some distance. And because I was not one to let someone tell me what to do without a sound rationale, I simply ignored his bothersome tap and decided to stay put. He tapped me again a few minutes later and when I still refused to move...he finally whispered that all women were required to sit in the rear section of the synagogue--behind a black veil.
OMG! And that was my introduction to Orthodox Judaism.
Now, there are plenty of things I can say here about the subordination of women, gendered space, and the perpetuation of social division and inequality in and through religious institutions. But my musing for today is really about Religious Firsts. And in particular, my first experience entering a Muslim Mosque.
Upon receipt of an invitation to attend tonight's special event, I immediately replied favorably. I had been in periodic touch with my neighborhood mosque over the past two years and thought this event a good opportunity to express gratitude for their kindness, to build relationships with those in this community, and to simply enjoy the opportunity to learn more about the Muslim faith tradition. Overall, I appreciated the tour of the mosque, the delicious catered dinner, observation the salat (evening prayer), and the lecture by the guest speaker, a noted expert and author of 13 books who was flown in from out of state.
There are a few memorable things about the mosque--the incredibly thick and plush red carpet that my hands and feet sank softly into (good for prayer prostrations), the beautiful two year old exterior building well lit by white strobe lights, and the hospitality offered by the mosque members who went out of their way to extend warmth and generosity to their 4 dozen guests. One helpful tid-bit I learned from the lecture is: "While Christianity states that Jesus is the way, Islam states that Jesus' way is the way." That is, Christianity argues that salvation comes through faith in Christ, but Islam differs as it is not a salvation religion. Islam does not have the concept of original sin (people are born into a state of grace from God), and hence do not find a need for a savior. Yet, Islam believes that Jesus is indeed the Messiah (though not God) and hence teach that Muslims should thus abide by Jesus' teachings and emulate Jesus' lifestyle. Jesus' way (his teachings/life) is therefore, the way.
The heart of the Qu'ran, we were told, centers around three values and principles: a) unity of all humanity (based on the idea that all people are God's creation) b) dignity of human persons (that all people are created equally by God irregardless of race, ethnicity, gender, class, etc. and hence are deserve the human right for respect and human worth) and c) justice for humankind (that God's people are called to actively fight for the rights, dignity and freedom of all people.)
Of the three Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity and Islam) Islam is said to be the most egalitarian, yet it is interesting that the women at the mosque I visited are still required to pray in separate seclusion from the men in an upstairs room (at other mosques, women must pray in the rear end of the room behind the men, or at best in the same room as men but on the opposite side of the room). Women must also keep their heads veiled.
To my knowledge the Christian tradition has never enacted gendered division in congregational seating. My suspicion is that socio-cultural norms and the role of women in the Early Church shaped what would later become orthodox practice in the Christian tradition. When Christian persecution was on the rise in Rome, Early Church gatherings were often held underground in people's homes. The home sphere in Greco-Roman society was designated as the "women's sphere" while the public realm (e.g. trade, commerce, public office) was designated as the "man's sphere." With underground church meetings thus held in the confines of the women's sphere, I ascertain that women would have never been asked to sit separately (let alone in marginalized spaces) from men. [Perhaps however, there is historical evidence challenging my supposition. This is very possible.] Recent literature suggests that because church was held in the women's sphere, women likely played very prominent leadership roles in the Early Church. Some even offer that notions of male authority and power were threatened in this culturally defined space, resulting in a tension and struggle over power that incited the Apostle Paul's controversial address in 1 Timothy and 1 Corinthians.
Regardless of this, I appreciate of the efforts by the Muslim Mosque community for welcoming and hosting us non-Muslim neighborhood friends, and for allowing us the opportunity to learn about their lives individually (new friends made over dinner) and collectively (as a faith community). I'm also glad that no one tapped me on the shoulders and that I didn't inadvertantly engage in any religious fau pas. The community's willingness to reach out to myself and others was a grand gesture, and one that I am grateful for.
