It’s happened to me time and again, I take my camera out on a photo walk and everything is all wrong. The light is flat, the scenery dull and uninteresting. I wonder what I’m doing out in the cold and wind, and I just want to give up and go home.
There’s nothing to see here. I’m wasting my time.
Then, I look a little closer.
It never fails. A closer look always leads to something special.
I just discovered this site, which plays the sound of rain. Sooooo relaxing. http://www.rainymood.com/
It’s been said that there are few pictures of me where I’m not hiding behind a camera.
That might be true. But, since it’s my birthday, and I’m in a celebratory mood, I thought I’d just prove that there are a few pictures of me sans camera.
Also, since I was going through old photos, I got sucked into a vortex of Gem’s old baby photos. Seriously, people, I have the coolest kid. (This still counts as a picture of me, check out the reflection in her glasses.)
I toyed with the idea of a photography show intermittently for a couple years, but something always stopped me. I couldn’t imagine working up the courage to approach someone about showing my work. I wasn’t sure my work was good enough.
I was scared – scared of both failure and success.
Then one day in the middle of a conversation with the owner of a coffee shop that I just adore, I took a deep breath and then blurted out a question that was something along the lines of “how do you select artists for your exhibits?” I can’t remember exactly how I asked, I could hear my pulse in my ears. But I chose well; the person I asked was one of the nicest people I know. By the end of the conversation, I had a show booked for October, nine months away at that time.
Of course, there was quite a bit of work left to do, but I managed to get it all done, and showed up October first to hang 25 pieces with the help of my unpaid intern:
she was a lot of help. [ahem]
I can’t express what it felt like to see my work up on the walls.
Even better, we had a reception for the exhibit, with live music, a wine tasting, tasty bites, and my friends showed up to support me. I had so much fun that I didn’t take any pictures during the party, and that never happens. I will always remember that party – especially when I think about doing something that scares me. To top it all off, I sold a bunch of pictures, too.
It was a crisp October morning, 21 years ago that I moved to Seattle. I was 21 years old. That’s half my life.
I was the girl from the small town in Alaska. I had a line on a job, and a line on an apartment and roommates. Neither were set in stone. It was all a big gamble.
My friend, Russ, picked me up at the airport and drove me to the place I was staying. He pointed out landmarks along the way, as I experienced Seattle traffic for the first time, and the downtown towers loomed in the distance. I was at the same time wondering what I’d gotten myself into, and falling in love with my new home town.
The most important and amazing events of my life happened right here in Seattle.
I fell in love. I fell in love again when my child was born. I beat back cancer. I grew into my own skin and learned to love myself. I surrounded myself with intelligent, authentic, and compassionate people who share my values. Of course these things can be done anywhere, but in Seattle, the fit was right.
Access to art, culture, education, excellent medical care, urban villages with a small town feel and the benefits of a big city, mountains and water – yes, I definitely {heart} Seattle.
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