*Kodak Portra 400, shot on a Pentax K1000*

I know, I know. It's Monday. I'm not even supposed to be here until tomorrow, right? I just had the most amazing conversation about photography, or any creative endeavor really, last week and I couldn't wait to get the words on the page. To come here and share it with you guys. And let's face it. I know I said I was okay with turning 45, but I'm still not sure how long I wanted my mug hanging out there on my homepage on the internet. Part of aging comes learning discretion, right? RIGHT?!?!

I can't even remember how it started, (I'm super forgetful these days.) but we started talking about that age-old creative's dilemma between having a consistent style vs. becoming a one-note. I said, and acknowledged at the time that I know I sound lame when I do say it, that I actually think about this a lot. See? Lame. How do you find the balance? How many Instagram accounts have I unfollowed after a few months because it's the same/similar photo over and over? And yet, YET! How many artists are doing mediocre work because they are trying too many different things and mastering none?

I continue to work to find my voice as a photographer. You might say that artistically it's my biggest project. Sure, I love that white wall in my little studio and you'll see me shoot a million things from eggs to flowers to cookies in front of it. But I also like to take pictures of Cal and the ocean and Neel and my beagle and the flowers in our back yard and a random beautiful doorway and the light that pours through my living room window. So where's the thread? How can I be all these things and still consistent? How can I spread all these pictures on a table and have you still know they are all me? Maybe it's the color palette, maybe it's the light I like, but I think these are just part of what makes a voice.

As we batted this conversation around the table, my friend Dave landed on what I think is the deep, deep truth of the matter. A million people have said it, all far better than I. And it boils down to this: practice your craft. "People come listen to Yo-Yo Ma," he said, "whether he's playing folk music or classical, because he shows up everyday to the practice room knowing that his scales aren't perfect."

Yo-Yo Ma. Everyday. Knowing he isn't perfect. Facing those scales every damn day.

Practice your craft. Batting practice. Showing up at the page. Playing scales. Whether you shoot weddings or newborns, make sure you pick up the camera (or whatever your instrument of choice) just for yourself. Do it creatively. Give yourself a personal project that inspires you and pushes you. Do it technically. Dive deeply into that new lens you got or explore a different lighting technique. It's only when you push yourself for yourself, not to meet a quota or when a client is paying you, that you'll really grow. When you think, "hey I think I want to try this," and you go out and try it, well, that's when the real fun begins.

And what if you're like me and you're already shooting for yourself? Well, that's when batting practice matters most I think. I truly believe that I'll only find and refine my voice as an artist if I continue to step into the cages and swing at pitch after pitch. If I stare at page after page. If I sit down to practice scale after scale.

If it works for Yo-Yo Ma, why can't it work for me? Batting practice? Playing scales? Same/Same.

Well, what have we here. Another trip around the sun. I've never been bothered by age, and there's only been one year so far when I felt thrown for a loop (35, whaaat?) in the days leading up to my birthday. This year, I've got nothing. No fear of moving into another age bracket. No dread of circling another box when I fill out a form. I've always had a fair amount of disdain for people who, at the lofty height of, say 27, say they feel old. Hmmm. Live a little more and we'll talk. I don't mind my age. I don't mind birthdays. I generally feel that I am who I am, yo.

Truth be told, I'll be glad to see 44 in my rear view. It's been a bumpy year at best, with a lot of turmoil and sadness. Plans have gone awry, hearts have been broken, health has been battered. And yet. New plans are being made. Every day I try again to get my health on track. My heart, my mind and my creative spirit is enriched each day as I follow this journey in studying film that I have embarked upon. And the friends I have made as I do it? What a gift! I get to teach photography which is pretty much amazing to me and a dream come true. So much gratitude there. Seriously.

All of my friends. New and old. Fill me up in ways they'll never know. I've had to take a deep dive in the past months as I've dealt with a daily onslaught of pain, but just feeling the web around me has been nothing short of amazing.

And of course my family. And really, for the love I have for them there are no words. It's too big to contain with mere words on a screen, so I think I'll leave it at that.

So today, I'll have the cake that my friend Kim made me earlier this week for breakfast (she also took that picture of me on a little film outing we had together, on her dad's Leica with Portra 160, and there you have me, billowy raincoat, sunny day and all), and then I'll go off to meet the students in my Composition Class. After that Neel and I'll have lunch together and then maybe I'll take one of my cameras for a walk this afternoon. He and Cal are making me dinner tonight, and then another year begins.

Nothing but blue skies ahead.

playing scales

forty-five