I bought a tiny projector a few weeks ago and had plans on using it for a portrait, but we ran out of time. The other day I was early for a session so I put my camera on tripod and set the timer and moved in and out of the frame.
The images that came out surprised me, not by their technical achievement but by how much the pictures exposed a part of me that I try to keep at bay.
I have been working for years on tempering my bursts of fire, on making my lows a little more palatable to myself and everyone around, on shaking myself out of the grey fog that tends to wrap me up. I have worked very hard on finding gratitude at times when I have none. I have practiced the art standing up for myself, a thing that it very difficult for me to do because I tend run away when situations get difficult.
I teeter totter between incredibly fulfilling creative highs and a deep sense of uselessness and isolation. At times I feel like an artist with all the angst and none of the creation.
People say that when I take their pictures, many things are revealed to them and as much as I believe them, I didn’t think that I would be able to turn the camera towards myself and understand what they are talking about. Now I do.
It is good to feel seen, not just the lights but also the shadows, knowing that those are an important part of who I am.
I’m going to keep that little projector just in case I need another meeting with myself.
