I’ve waited to nearly exactly the middle of January to write
this post because I was hoping to have permission to “publish” my Wedding
Photography Workshop photos for you, alas we are still waiting for the green
light from someone who wants it all to be tippy top secret until just the right
moment. Seeing as I have a very small blog following here in the U.S. and a few
loyal fans in Russia, (Privyet И spasiba!) I doubt anyone would ever find out
that I “leaked” my own lackluster photos and yet, I’m afraid some fabulous
wedding designer will find them and shun me from the industry I’ve only been a
part of reluctantly.
I’ll save my photos for the next post but I have to tell
you, the workshop was an eye opener. While I knew I had been winging this whole
photography thing, I didn’t really realize how involved actual professional
photographers are with every little shot they take. It’s like they know how to
use all the settings on their camera or something equally preposterous. I
discovered that I have all the wrong gear for shooting weddings specifically
and all the little things I can see in my mind as a photograph but can’t make
my camera see the way I see is due to the fact that I have only one lens (the
wrong lens) and very little understanding of the correlations between all the
technicalities of a camera. I just like, see pretty things? And then I like,
take the picture?
Overall it was quite discouraging in a determination
building kind of way. I realized I’m going to have to actually bother trying if
I hope to continue taking photographs. Usually, when I realize that something
requires further research or effort beyond what suits my mood at the time, I
ball up that idea, toss it over my shoulder, and carry on with my day, pleased
that I escaped boredom or hardship but the bummer here is that I really like
taking pictures and somehow I walked out of there wanting to rent lots of
lenses and create mood lighting and figure out how to change my f-stop. Compared
to the other girls’ photos my pictures seemed dull and somehow I always manage
to have something important turn burry in my shots. They are pretty pictures but they aren’t weddingy pictures. There’s a difference.
All that said, I do think that I do not prefer wedding photography over my love
for shooting landscapes and flowers and giant smiles.
About a week before the Photo Workshop, as I continued my
frantic search for a purpose in life, I was nearly convinced I wanted to go to
a trade school to learn plastering or welding. No laughing please. I saw it all
as the perfect combination of hands on, outdoorsy, creative, thought-provoking
work that still required some skill. I could be outside, dirty, and making
something. “That’s got me written all over it!” I said with such an expression
that Ari knew to agree with me. Get ready for how pathetic I am. A few days
later, the temperature dropped below 50˚ and I completely turned on it.
“But
why?”, Mom asked in a desperate outrage, for I had gotten her more excited about
my being a construction worker than I was but when I pointed out to her that I
would almost always be working in unheated buildings or hot attics in the dead,
stillness of summer, I would be sore, and cold, and surrounded by men, she sat
back in her chair and sighed thoughtfully and I saw her toss that idea over her
shoulder.
I then harped on about writing and my sensational children’s
book idea that I feel I can’t write because I could never let my vocabulary
stoop to that of the benighted youngsters of today. Actually I think it’s a
great idea for a children’s book series but I really don’t care much for
children and I know even less about what they can comprehend at what age. How
old are you when you understand words like ‘lugubrious’ and ‘haughty’? Would
they know what I meant if I described someone as ‘corn-fed’?
While I’m on an inconsiderate monologue about myself, I’ll
tell you that I’ve also been painting and I did just about the coolest painting
I’ve ever done except I can’t show it to you because I plagiarized it (that’s a
big no-no) by taking a photo of it in an art gallery (also frowned upon). So,
while it is my favorite thing, I can never really take it out of my home or I
could be sued. For the record, I plagiarized it for the challenge of
replicating it, not to sell or claim as my own. Also, as a side project, I've been thinking about
taking up clay sculpting. I think all of this says that I have a lot of art
stuck inside of me but I don’t know how to get it out and it’s kind of painful.
For everyone involved actually.
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