We have had guests come to visit in the past few days, but I did not forget to do my sketchbook. Although some stayed overnight, and some only came for the day, I enjoyed seeing them so much that working in the studio was near impossible. A shout out to them, though, "come back, come back". I know that the moments we interact with others is fleeting.
Well. I made a line drawing with my micron ink pen of my most favorite possession in the world, my Leica camera, a gift from my super darling, dreamy-eyed, and super yummy, husband. By clicking on the phrase, Leica camera, you can go look at the technical details of it through my Amazon link.
Photography and I go way back. Many, many years ago, probably before most of you were born, I studied photography at The Maine Photographic Workshops in Rockport, Maine, a very quaint village on the rocky coast of the northeastern U.S. I had ended up there after leaving my English Literature program at the University of Massachusetts. I really wanted to become an artist, but I "knew" that in order to do that, one needed drawing skills, something I was completely void of possessing. I went home and told my parents that I was no longer enrolled at the University and had found a photo school somewhere in Boston. "Photography", I thought, "I can do that, there is no drawing requirement there. Photography it is then." I never could have imagined the mass hysteria this announcement would produce. They always had high hopes that I would have ended up in medicine. I loved the idea of helping people and practicing medicine, but the business side of medicine was something I wanted nothing to do with. As any good catholic, latino parents would do, in the face of such radical craziness from their daughter, they sent me to see a priest. I am not kidding. Father Ray, I will never forget him. I went "in" for a private meeting while my mother waited outside the door; I am sure craning her neck to hear my "fixing" , all the while relieved because good old Father Ray would set things straight. When it was all done, Father Ray opened the door and ushered her in to a seat next to mine. "Well, Father Ray?" she asked timidly as she shot me a glance and then another back at him, all the while she kept gripping and re-gripping, almost twisting, the hard handle of her purse. She didn't need to say anything more, her face said it all... it was saying "is their any hope for our little girl?" Very politely, Father Ray explained how he had heard me out and that he felt compelled to offer up his own opinion. What happened next made my mother turn white as a ghost. He said " The photography school that Carolina has enrolled in is not a good one, I am suggesting she go to one of the best photo schools in the country, the Maine Photographic Workshops". Wow, I never expected THAT to come out of Father Ray. My mother and I rode home in total silence. Upon our arrival home, my father said "Well... are we all set then?" My mother had to tell him what had transpired. That Sunday we did not go to church, or any other Sunday after that ever again.
Somehow, someway, I ended up at that school. I worked every minute that I was not in class in order to afford it, but I went to that school.
I would like to invite ALL of you to help me clean the storage room, here at my house. I had to open every box, tear through all kinds of old paper work from years past to find the photo of me from the school's catalogue.
That is me, age 21, a photo taken in a studio lighting class by the instructor, Lucy Johnson. That was a very long time ago. Fast forward, to now ... a few degrees in several fields, I have a family, kids ... gosh ... cell phones have been invented, computers are in homes, and the digital camera revolution left all my acquired knowledge from that school in dust covered notebooks that are only now useful as kindling.
Although I have access to a large (read $$$) camera, I found the large camera to be cumbersome and bulky. I don't want to have to carry a camera bag AND a purse, and I don't like having something heavy around my neck. I am always moving, so having a camera with me was something I considered a chore, so much so that I eventually just stopped taking photographs. I probably never took more than 200 photos a year. Well all that changed when I started this blog. When I started this blog ... a year ago (OMG I made a year!), I carried around one of those big fancy cameras that announce to the world that you mean business and know what you are doing. Well, I didn't. I needed a plan B.
It was right about the time of the truck post pictures I had taken with my phone, that my husband realized that if I was willing to risk my life by hanging out the car window as we zoomed past all these mac daddy trucks to take a picture, I probably was ready for my own "real" camera. I told him it had to fit in the pocket of my purse, the one I use every single day. After much searching he found this Leica camera. It is so small it fits in the palm of my hand and weighs nothing. In this one year of blogging, I have taken bazillions of photographs. How many is bazillions? Well to give you a clue, I only have saved the good ones on my mac and I have 15,039 images in there. My eyes have been doing a lot of "focusing", a lot of seeing, a lot of noticing. Needless to say, I love my camera.
I wanted to draw something that I really loved and can't live without. I wanted to try drawing it with only ink - you know, getting shape and form with only a pen. It started off kind of uncomfortable and the results didn't look like they were going to show up. After some persistence (that is, a lot of lines) the image of my camera started to appear. I added the traditional red logo in red pencil and gave it a background in blue watercolor. I added "my" eye in there to let the world know that I am watching. I am watching everything.
The only question that arose from all my photograph taking was ... "so when are you going to give in and face your dream, skills or no skills, born with them or not, and learn how to draw and paint?"
All my best wishes to you and your journey in going after your dreams,