Dusting off my cameras

Dusted off the D300
digital photograph
Nikon D100

Having a little bit of time off after the holiday rush led to me dusting off the Nikon D300 which I got for Christmas last year and used... once.  It sat staring balefully at me through its lens cover, neglected for nearly an entire year, sending little tingles of guilt through me every time I glanced its way.  Both of my cameras and nearly all of my accompanying equipment are very generous gifts from my dad, who does some amazing bird photography for his own blog.  I originally pilfered his old Pentax film SLR for my photography class at Mason Gross.

One of the most important and lasting lessons from my professor, LaToya Frazier, was trying to take the shot so that little to no editing is required.  This (can sometimes) result in quality photographs, and requires patience; taking many shots as various aperture settings, compositions, and shutter speeds are adjusted; and an understanding of lighting and your subject matter.  Doing all of this with a film camera and developing my own film was both highly stressful and rewarding.  I remember sweating in the dark room, fumbling with rolls of film as I transferred them from the camera to the spool for developing, praying that I didn't wreck a few hours worth of shooting.  I felt like a wizard dodging and burning the photosensitive paper, and putting the paper through its chemical washes.  I also keenly felt the high prices of film and other equipment.  Often, I would not take more than the minimum three shots recommended per composition so that I would not have to buy as much film.

Access to a DSLR and a computer took away a lot of that stress, but also a little bit of the magic, too.  Digital photography is a boon for a hectic schedule, yet even so, my photography dropped off during my long artistic hiatus.  Of course, my battery life was nearly exhausted for my D300, so instead, I got out the D100 while I began charging the lithium batteries, which is a slightly older and heavier model.  I currently have a 77mm telescopic lens on it.  I just stuck around the house for my re-entry into photography, taking advantage of the slanting winter light streaming into my home.

Ficus Leaves
Digital photograph
Nikon D100

 

Professional Goals

"What are your professional goals?"

A partial answer to this question required many hours of soul searching and research on what that actually means.  I graduated with a B.A. from Rutgers University in Visual Arts, after a long and twisty academic career involving transferring from community college and not one but two changes in degree.

When I graduated high school, I knew that I was going to be an artist and equine sports massage therapist.  I had always been an artist of sorts, drawing childish fox cartoons since age six and doodling my way through middle and high school with the occasional decent artwork being produced, and I had always loved horses.  In particular, I loved to draw horses.

During my senior year of high school, a painting class was available to me as an elective.  It was the first class of my day and had the advantage of being my home room.  For the first time, I was motivated to come to school early and start painting.  I was introduced to my second art inspiration, Leslie Ann Webb, who makes large and gorgeous equine portraits (my first inspiration being Yoshitaka Amano, since my brothers and I enjoyed the Final Fantasy videogame series).  I thought to myself, "I could do that too!"

Did I need to go to college for any of this?  No.  However, going to college (somewhat against my will) did expose me to more artists, like Franz Marc, encouraged me to create more art, and helped me develop as a person.  I find that my community college experience was much more positive and confidence-building than my time at Mason Gross.  I felt disjointed, disconnected, and directionless while at Mason Gross, and ironically, I began to lose my passion for art. These feelings only recently began to change.  Maybe it would have been different if I wasn't a transfer student; I don't know.  I turned away from art and to animal science for a time, until I realized that my scholarship was running out and I was burning out.  I came back to the arts out of desperation to finish a degree, any degree, before I amassed even more debt.  I lost my sense of self somewhere in there.

I graduated a little over two years ago, and I work a full time job that has nothing to do with art or horses.  It does, however, pay my bills, and I have a lot of time to think.  Much of my job consists of not doing very much, and the hours can become quite tedious.  I picked up pen and pencil to paper to while away the time.  My mom noticed that I have not been drawing or horseback riding lately, which had been two of my defining characteristics as a child and young adult, and picked up some art supplies to encourage and support me.  I began to receive compliments and encouragement from the people in my building on my drawings.  They began to ask me, "What have you drawn today?"

"Wow, you drew that?  It's beautiful!  You should have an art show!"

"I have a friend who owns a coffee shop.  I will talk to her and let her know a friend of mine is interested in displaying some small, framed prints.  Maybe she can sell them for you.  Tell her I sent you."

These comments coincide with me going through the process of reconnecting with myself and the question I was trying to answer.  What are my professional goals?  As I thought about it, and wrote about it, it was increasingly clear that what I want is not a desk job or even any semblance to a 9-5, working for someone else.  One of the best questions that I found helpful was this, especially since many of my decisions have been based on the need for money to survive:

"What would I want to do today if I had no financial worries?"

Of my answers, these stuck out most to me: "Take pictures of and draw horses, develop a website for my art, and go to the Met."

Suddenly, I had the answer.  I have a dream in addition to my dear home and family.  I want to become a professional artist.  After literally years of waivering, I have the commitment, the focus, and the passion, right now, to continue this journey.