Shutter Sisters

Growing Old

By

he’s engaged in normal conversation,
like every visit they share.
they’ve come regularly since days of bare feet and braids,
since days of excited footsteps pattering on tile.
now they sit,
texting on their phones as he talks to the tops of their heads.
they nod and say the right things,
always leaving him with an emptiness-
he sees his age in their eyes.
they go through the ritual of playing their latest piano pieces,
his most cherished part of their visits…
for as soon as he hears the nocturne on the out-of-tune keys,

he’s a dashing young man clad in a starched uniform,
with gleaming war medals clinking as he walks.
the room is filled with respectful eyes
watching him sip a cocktail while conducting business in murmured words.

then, the front doors open,
and she steps in.
heads turn, and he puts down his drink to take in her presence.
her eyes sparkle as she locks a gaze with him.
she crosses the room,
places her warm hand over his,
and smiles.

with her beside him,
his youth could never be taken away…

the nocturne ends.
the children resume their mechanical conversations
until his granddaughter, their mother, picks them up.
as soon as she arrives,
they softly kiss his cheek and rush out the door.
she walks across the room, 
sits next to him,
places her warm hand over his,
and smiles.
she has her grandmother’s eyes,
he thinks as they sparkle back at him.
and for now,

he feels young again

* * *

Image and poem by 17-year-old Suzanna Hodges, niece of Shutter Sister Stephanie Roberts. Suzanna made this image of her great grandfather using Tiltshiftfocus, PhotoShop Express, and Instagram apps on her iTouch. Do images ignite your imagination in the form of visual poetry?

We are giving away one $100 Paper Coterie gift card EVERY SINGLE DAY of September! Share a comment each day before midnight EST for your chance to win that day’s random drawing. Be sure to leave links to your story shots.

life’s focus

By

“Life has a way of coloring your way of living – but it’s you who chooses the colors.” – unknown

Don’t you just love the simple wisdom of this quote?  As we go about our lives, it is so easy to get wrapped up in everyday dramas that play out around us.  When it gets overwhelming, I like to pick up my camera.  My lens becomes my filter. I am in complete control of what I see.  Real life is pushed aside and bliss rushes in.

In those moments, I seek out things that sooth my soul or tickle my funny bone. Saturated colors, my son’s freckly nose, the silly antics of our five dogs, and focusing on the details… all help reenergize me for the next challenge that life throws my way. And you know that with three boys, it is guaranteed that more teen angst is peeking around the corner.

While I am not suggesting that you put blinders on, I do encourage you to spend some time looking at the world with selective focus.  Everything in life will become more enhanced. What was once taken for granted, such as a sunrise, a simple wildflower, or a quiet moment suddenly comes to life.

Today, focus on the little things in life that make you happy and share them here with us.

 

Images and words courtesy of the Tammy Lee Bradley, founder of Mortal Muses and newest contributor to Shutter Sisters. YAY! You can find her on Facebook and her blog Bliss and Folly, as well. Help us give her a warm sisterly welcome!

Creativity and Art

By

Creativity is not the finding of a thing, but the making something out of it after it is found.” ~James Russell Lowell, poet

You are all such amazing artists.  Take one look at the Shutter Sister’s flickr pool and you will see the awe inspiring visual poetry that is created and captured through the cameras lens. Through your blogs and photos I’ve also discovered how so many of you are talented and creative in more than just photography. As a busy wife, mother to four and painter I have learned through the years that art is not just a photograph or painting, meant to be hung on a gallery wall. It is anything and everything we put a piece of our soul into. Isn’t that so wonderfully freeing?

Creativity and art, like the quote above states, is taking what is ordinary and making it extraordinary and personal.  It is seeing a gorgeous photo from my friend Claire and making it into a painting.  It is seeing the light hit your property fence and clicking.  It is making breakfast and choosing what to set your focus on.  This is art. 

By choosing to be mindful in our daily life and in ordinary routines, we can spark tremendous creativity within us.  Art is found in how we love, how we live, how we teach our children, and how we laugh. 

Today, show us all of your creativity and art.  Let’s see your photographs, your paintings, your scrapbook pages, the way you home school, your jewelry designs, your home, your poetry and especially…your heart.

Image and words courtesy of the lovely artist/photographer Andie Edwards.

Another Palete

By

Food is for me is like paint for a painter. At the farmers market, all I see are endless possibilities for color combinations, textures, and patterns. The food is so close, so vulnerable, I love being able to reach out to touch and hold it in my hands. Somewhere between looking, feeling, smelling, and even tasting, my mind is formulating an image. My sensory exploration of the scene helps me capture the essence, the feeling, of what I’m immersed in that very moment.

Every time I make a picture that conveys a feeling, I well up with gratitude and joy for having been at the right place and the right time. I have nothing to do with creating those moments, because they are already happening all around me. I love the challenge of communicating life’s fleeting ephemeral and sensual moments via a picture. 

Pictures of food speak volumes. There are endless metaphors about life and food that have been ingrained in so many of our minds via society and culture. There are also endless hang-ups and road blocks folks have when it comes to the kitchen, many of which I’ve experienced myself at one time or another. But what if we were to shift our outlook just a little, and approach the kitchen like we do a photo: with curiosity and eyes wide open. Next time you open the fridge, take a good look at the color of your fruit, feel the texture of your mustard, feel the weight of your carton of milk. Try looking at the items in your fridge not just as necessary edibles, but fresh paint for your palate of ideas. Then let us know if something in there surprised you, or maybe even became a muse.  

Images and words courtesey of the lovely and talented Tricia Martin of Eating is Art.

capturing authenticity

By

There is little I desire more in my work than authenticity, and yet it has often seemed so elusive.

I long for the images I create to say something genuine- to be more than a pose, a smile, a physical likeness. I have frequently struggled with how to achieve that consistently.

In reflecting on past work, I noticed a common factor in the images that really spoke to me- there was an emotional connection happening with my subject. It seems so simple, and yet I have rarely put enough emphasis on the importance of those connections. I might remember every other necessary detail for a great shot, but if that connection is not made, there will be little true depth in the final image.

The connections I’m speaking of happen when I as the photographer honor the humanity and uniqueness of the person I am photographing, and allow that to be the focus of the images.

In every art form, a certain level of vulnerability is required from the artist in order to convey something that is real. In photography, this is in allowing ourselves to be open and thoroughly ourselves in our interactions with those we photograph. Through our genuineness, they will feel comfortable showing us the truest parts of themselves.

This discovery is such a gift, because it makes every session an opportunity for real relationship. If I know my subject already, then I get to know them better, and if they are a client whom I just met, a new friendship is formed. My work has become about connecting with people and telling their stories rather than only being focused the technical aspects of creating great images, and through that I have discovered a new passion for what I do.

When we pour our hearts into our work, the result will be beautifully authentic.

What are some specific ways you connect with the people you photograph? In the comments, share a favorite image that you feel embodies something real.

Image and words by Guest Sister Hannah Mayo. Visit her site Hannah Mayo Photography or her blog to discover more about her and her work.

the hard work

By

DOUBT.  It isn’t something we talk about too often. Being or pursuing the artistic side of us opens up amazing things—beautiful things—but it also leaves us vulnerable; vulnerable to little voices of doubt inside ourselves. I didn’t imagine these things could exist in tandem with the joy of doing what I love.

Seven years ago my son was born, and not too long after that I decided that working in an office, doing what I did and DREAMING about being an artist was no longer good enough for me.  How could I raise my son to do what he loved, when I didn’t do what I loved? Imagine my surprise when I embraced the life of an artist (the glamorous, amazingly creative life of an artist) with open arms and a full heart and started to feel as if the more I learned and grew, the larger that hole became inside of me. I had imagined myself as an artist with bluebirds singing around her head and a trail of creativity sprouting whenever, wherever her feet touched the ground and in reality, it wasn’t like that at all.

Don’t get me wrong, I am happier than I have ever been in my life. I feel like the whole world opens up to me daily and doing what I love feels much like meeting the man I love 16 years ago; amazingly breathtaking.

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard work.  Or that it doesn’t open other doors.  The hard work isn’t just running a business (which I feel is a creative amazingly rewarding thing despite the hard work) and it isn’t just struggling to balance bills or the two full time jobs I worked for three years while I grew my business enough to financially support my family.  The hard work is constantly pulling something truthful out of myself. The ebb and the flow of an artist’s mind is tricky I’m discovering.  The true hard work is within myself.  There may be artists who only experience confidence, who never doubt themselves, who don’t look at other peoples work and feel themselves shrinking next to such brilliance, but I have never met them; not in person, not in real life.

The thing I think so many of us experience, and so few of us talk about the feeling of giving up completely. I feel that way a lot actually. Daily…maybe? However, the thing I have learned since my artistic-self sprouted from the pupa where she lay for many years, the thing I do when I feel the self-doubt or the aversion to create for fear of not being good enough, is to just ignore it. I figure being miserable and still doing what I love and doing what my heart tells me to do is much better than being miserable and doing nothing. I think, if you boil it down, that is what courage really is. It’s not facing the world head on, it’s pushing through your own self-created horrors and deciding you aren’t going to let the darkness control you.

So every day I take some breaths, I take my camera (or my pen or my computer or my voice or my love) and I create.  I hear the doubt that sometimes tries to stop me, I shake it off and I create until I make something that makes my heart sing, and then, simply, I try to do it again.  Because it is either that or give in to the fear, and I have decided that fear isn’t going to win.  Love is, art is, joy is, creation is.

I photograph my way through these “doubt times”, accept them, ignore them and shoot right on past them.  That’s what works for me.  What works for you? How do you deal with your fears and keep moving on?

Photo and words courtesy of guest blogger, fine art photographer Melissa Squires of A Girl in Love Photography.

My Home

By

We’re thrilled to welcome today’s guest post from 16-year-old Suzanna Hodges, budding photographer and niece of Shutter Sister Stephanie Roberts.

Hand-me-down cheerleading uniforms from the nineties craftily adjusted with safety pins. Late night milkshake runs and relished school night sleepovers. Playing online solitaire on outdated computers in Technology class. Rubbery chicken nuggets and soggy french fries. A reserved table at Waffle House where hot chocolate and raisin toast are passed from person to person. Sitting on the roof with my three best friends and sharing our biggest secrets and dreams about the future. Dissecting frogs in Chemistry and gossip sessions in the girls’ bathroom about the cute new basketball coach. Packing a car full of girls in a vehicle driven by a newly licensed driver heading to celebrate. Being in a class full of the people you finger-painted with, the people you solved long division with, and the people with whom you will graduate.

I am a high school student who has anticipated leaving the mold of my small town since seventh grade. I’m just a girl who has dreamt of finally meeting new friends.  A girl who is tired of the close-minded views and too conservative values of my southern town. I am the girl who has always been a little different from the rest of my classmates who plan to attend a close-to-home college and come right back home when they are finished. I’m the girl who gets crazy looks from my peers when I share my love for the city, my dreams of traveling, or my tolerance for certain practices or beliefs. I’m the strange girl who loves to write and take pictures – expressing my angst of growing up and capturing the essence of the life around me.

But I am also a high school student who is beginning to realize that the longing I have had since early adolescence is slowly being replaced by dread. Dread of leaving my Mama’s reassuring arms and my Daddy’s protective gaze. Dread of stepping outside my sheltered neighborhood and the tendencies of leaving back doors unlocked and windows cracked open. Dread of never again walking down the halls of the school that has guided me through every year of my life since kindergarten. Dread of leaving the overshadowed charm, class, and hospitality of a town I truly love. Dread of never seeing some of my twenty-six classmates after they don their caps and gowns and head out on their own paths into the future. Dread that is making me realize some of the same factors that push me to leave so badly are the same ones that call me to come right back home.

High school… sometimes it’s all I can do to stop myself from packing my bags and leaving everything behind me. But whether I like to admit it or not, high school and my life here are a very big part of who I am. A part of me that I love with all my heart…

a part of me that will always be home.

* * *

Do you have a young Shutter Sister in your life? Please introduce them to us in the comments so we can get a glimpse of life through their eyes and embrace them in our sisterhood.

Tell me a story

By

When I look at this photo, I am transported back to the exact moment it was taken. We went for a walk on Thanksgiving day around the abandoned streets of Houston and found ourselves in an empty sculpture park. Along the way, my 3-and-a-half year old nephew had selected a pine cone and a stick with great care. And as boys do, suddenly the pine cone and stick turned into a ball and bat.

My sister-in-law and I sat and watched as a 3-and-a-half year old welcomed two grown men into his world. All three were transported to another time, another place, another age and before they knew it, they had built up a sweat, playing stickball like there was no tomorrow. They laughed and howled as my sister-in-law and I cheered them on from the sidelines. The lone guard on site sat by quietly, seemingly annoyed by the disruption to his peace and quiet. When they lost the pine cone and the foul ball went into the stands (a.k.a. the bushes), the guard stood up, walked over to the boys, and handed them a new pine cone.

Thanks and giving.

That is what I see when I look at this photo. I see the story, one that could have been lost if not for my trusty iPhone. Since I was shooting with an iPhone, thoughts of ISO and aperture and shutter speed were irrelevant. What mattered in this moment was the emotion, the love, the story. Luckily, you don’t need a $1500 lens to tell a story.

To me, that is what photography is all about. It’s easy to get wrapped up in getting the “perfect” photo, acquiring the “perfect” equipment, and getting your exposure, composition, and white balance just right. But when it comes down to it, the only thing that matters to me is if the photo tells a story and if it transports me back to that moment.

I often wonder how much I would miss out on if I didn’t always have my camera with me. Whether it’s with my fancy camera or my iPhone, I am continually compelled to photograph these everyday moments. Photographing the seemingly ordinary provides me with a way to find magic and beauty in my everyday life. It slows down my rapid pace and helps me focus (literally and figuratively) on what’s really important.

Have you found this to be true? Today, share your perfectly imperfect photos – the ones that tell a story, slow down everyday life, and transport you back to a time and place that are meaningful to you.

Image and words by Honorary Sister / Guest blogger Darrah Parker.

Leave a comment for a chance to win a spot in the Slice of Life Project, a six-week photography e-course taught by Darrah in which she will guide you to capture YOUR everyday life in extraordinary ways. Class begins January 3 and will jump-start your creativity in the new year. Comment between now and Monday 12/6 for a chance to win.

you in the picture

By

In the last three years, I’ve taken over 200,000 photos. Most of these are pictures of my family. My kids, my husband, parents, etc.  I just went back and looked at all of them. Guess how many of these photos have me in them?

Eleven.

I am not making this up. Out of the hundreds of thousands of photos we have of our family from the last three years, my face is in eleven of them. Eleven.

I hate having my picture taken. Since I am the official family photographer, I rarely ever face having to be in the pictures myself. On the rare occasions when someone asks me to get in the photo, I always respectfully refuse to do it. I am quiet about it but also firm. This is how I’ve successfully managed to avoid being in most of them.

I’ve learned that many photographers are like me; they prefer to stay behind the camera. For me, the biggest reason is that I have a hard time seeing myself in a picture. When I look at a photo, all I can see is the bulges of fat or the imperfections in my features. I see the blemishes on my face. My too-big nose. My belly. My sunken eyes. Bushy eyebrows. I can go on and on. I don’t see the happy mom or the loving wife, I just see a flawed human being.

I don’t know how much of this is common across all people and how much of it my low self-esteem but here’s what I do know: I need to get over it.

I need to get into the picture more often.

There are many reasons why it’s important to take the time and effort to be in more of our photographs. This list might be different for each person but here are some of my reasons:

Posterity
I lost my grandmother last February. One of the first things I did after she passed away was collect all the photos of her I could find. I wanted pictures from all throughout her life from childhood to old age. Those photos were the faces of all my memories of her. They are what brought my thoughts to life and I held them close for a long time. They allowed me to mourn and remember all at the same time. I don’t think it’s fair to deny that to my children or loved ones. I can’t imagine a world where I didn’t have any photos of my grandmother. Photos are one of the most significant ways we’re remembered. People don’t look at how big your nose was,; they’re just so happy to have anything of you left to them. So I remind myself that even if I don’t want to do it for myself, I owe it to my kids, to my husband, and other people who love me.

Therapy
While it has tangible benefits to others, I think having my picture taken more often is also going to be beneficial to me. Repetition has numbing power. If I just get in the photos all the time no matter how dressed up I might or might not be, I think I will stop seeing all the details of myself in each photo. It will just become the norm that I am in pictures and I will start looking at it the way I look at the other people in the picture. Seeing myself again and again, hugging the people I love, smiling, and being happy is bound to have a positive effect on me eventually. And even if it doesn’t, it means I will have hundreds of proofs of my joyful life.

Education
Because I get my photo taken so rarely, I have never experimented with different angles or looks. I don’t know if I have a good side. I don’t know if it’s better for me to lean on one foot or lean forward. I don’t know if I should smile with an open mouth or a closed one. Many of these things might seem silly to think about but a lot of being photogenic is about knowing the small details about yourself. Even the most beautiful person can look terrible if the picture is taken from the wrong point of view. So having more photos of myself will give me exposure and opportunity to learn.

Empathy
I take pictures of people all the time. I do professional shoots of families. I take photos of my kids, my husband, my parents and even strangers. I guarantee you that most of these people feel the discomfort of being in front of the lens. As a photographer who never has her own picture taken, it’s easy for me to forget how uncomfortable it feels to be in front of the camera. And since I do this as a profession, I think it’s important for me to remember that delicate feeling. It will make me a better photographer.

Because of these reasons, and more, I decided that 2011 will be the year when I get in the picture more often. I will create opportunities to make sure it happens. Each month, I will set up our tripod so we can get a full-family shot. I will hand over the camera to my husband. I will learn the intricacies of the self timer and find the best spots to use it in my house. I will experiment with angles and creative shots. I will take enough photos of myself that I can see myself as just another person in the photo. I will do this for myself and for my children. And I won’t wait until January.

The holidays are the best time to start such a project because there’s a lot of joy and festivity. Also because most people have visitors during the holidays so there are more people to hand over the camera to and more reasons to capture each moment. So, if any of you are like me and tend to avoid being in the picture, I challenge you to get in the photo more this holiday season. Just let go of your worries and embrace the opportunity. Hand over that camera and hug your loved ones. Put on a big smile and say cheese. I am confident you will not regret it.

In the meantime, I would love for you to share the last time you were in front of the lens. If you can’t find one, how about you take a photo right now and share it with us?

Image and words courtesy of Guest Blogger / Honorary Sister Karen Grunberg of Karenika.

Published

By

I anxiously tapped my fingers. Would this be the day? Would my watched pot boil? Would my very own issue of Artful Blogging finally be in the mail?

You see, not only would I be published in the magazine, but there was a deeper part of my soul reaching print this chilly fall season. The I Am Enough Collaborative darn near changed my life.

About 9 months ago, in the heart of my own ‘artist’s winter’ I picked up my camera. I was in a dark place artistically. I was burnt out, I was feeding myself lie after lie and pretty much had self-convinced this weary heart that I would never be, enough. The images that came from that day you can now see on page 104 of Artful Blogging’s fall/winter edition.

Those photos would have never seen print if the care of a dear friend hadn’t felt something when I shared them with her. Later Tracey would ask if I minded sharing a bit of myself with her amazing collaboration, I am Enough. With timid hands, I began to type and in no time had written my own powerful declaration. I am indeed enough! What an amazing place I had gotten to. From rain to sun. From darkness to light.

So late summer when Tracey contacted me about interest in including my images in the upcoming publication – I nearly fell off my chair. Tears began to form, as I found myself overwhelmed with joy and pride. I was able to be a part of something bigger and better than what I could have imagined. I was able to share my sorrow and my joy with others and now the news was spreading. Humbled and honored I said my best “yes!” without sounding every bit as eager as I was.

I kept in mind that sometime this fall I would get my own copy of the magazine. After a week or so of an empty mailbox, I began to busy myself with other things. Wouldn’t you know that darn pot boiled on a day I least expected it. The kids had been grouchy and yogurt was drying to my youngster’s carseat. The day felt all wrong and my attitude didn’t help a bit.

Then with my boys still in the car I let out a squeal. It was here, it was here! Secured in plastic with a paper that read: “Congratulations on being published in Artful Blogging…” Published. Published. Published. The words weren’t any less exciting after the 14th phone call I made exclaiming such.

To this day the beautiful issue sits by my computer. The absolute honor of being a part of such an amazing experience, amongst so many other artists I admire and adore…words aren’t enough.

I can’t wait to see the vast places this collaboration goes, and the hearts it will reach. I know I am forever changed.

Photo and words courtesy of Honorary Sister/Guest Blogger Angie Warren, founder of The Creative Mama.

……

Note from Tracey: If you would like to share your own story with the I am Enough Collaborative, consider this your official invitation. Or if you want to follow along and soak up the goodness on Facebook or Twitter or join us at Flickr, you can do that as well. It’s your call. I’m just glad to have you! And today, you are invited to share yourself and your enoughness here in the comments.