Friday, June 5, 2009

Quick before I have too many tapes fire!

I've got about 100 ideas racing through my head, along the with 101 negative things that I am saying with it. We humans are so terrible at creating our own demise. That said, I've decided that I need a project. Not any project, but rather a project that challenges me, forces me out of my comfort zone, and stretches me in all directions. I tell myself that "Life begins outside my comfort zone" and yet, I've been sitting in my bubble for a little too long now. Things are too comfortable. I've become boring, in a comfortable sort of way.

Time for my Stretch Assignment.
A little background information:

1. I have a degree in photography from a tiny little university in the South West corner of Michigan. My photography classes were 10% theory and 90% shooting. My skills improved exponentially in proportion to the amount time spent behind the camera. Oh course I had assignments, but again, it was all camera-in-hand time. To date, one of my favorite assignments was choosing a subject, and taking 720 pictures of the same thing. My subject was feet. Yes folks, I have 720 pictures of feet. It was my project, my stretch (although I didn't see it at the time) and my achievement. There were tears, frustrated sighs and banging of my head against the wall, but in the end, I became better. I began to see feet in a whole new way. Feet become almost secondary to how my skills and photographic eye changed and became better.




2. In reading people's blogs, biographies and general tips about life, I've come across a reoccurring theme, time and time again. Practice makes perfect. Cliche, I know, but it's true. I look to Julia Child as my cooking inspiration: she cooked more things that were totally pathetic, before she became the American hero for French food. My photography inspirations are Richard Avedon, Annie Leibovitz, and my friend Richard Choi (among others). There are thousands of photos that will never see a magazine or light table, but that's not the point. The point is, they took so many photographs, even when they were terrible, and kept pushing forward, one photograph at a time, until they became the people they are today.

3. I have often wondered why I moved back to Calgary. I don't believe that it was my choice. It was my decision yes, but with the depth of my being, I believe that something bigger than myself was at work. I have come to accept and love (most of the time) the fact that I live in Calgary, but the lingering question as to why, still pops up every once and a while. Maybe it's time time shift my thinking and not wonder why, but ask, why not? Maybe it's time to turn the negative tape I have about living in Calgary into one of love, acceptance and peace?

4. In the last couple of days, I've read some interesting things. First, there is a Flirk group that has people take one photograph of themselves a day and post it. They must do this for 365 days. (I was presented the challenge in University about taking one photograph a day - if that doesn't sound hard, I ask you to think again. It's a lot harder than you think.) Second, I was sent a link for the 101 things in 1001 days challenge. This involved making a list of the 101 things you wanted to do in 1001 days. It doesn't have to be huge elaborate goals, but rather things you want to accomplish in 1001 days. One woman made pizza dough from scratch. You go girl!

The Assignment

Here is the deal: For the next 365 days, I am going to take my camera everywhere, take a minimum of 5 pictures a day, posting the top 5 every day on my blog and write about what I have seen through the lens of a camera. This will be a huge stretch for me, Why? Although I love the camera and what I can capture with it, it also intimidates me. And, further to this, I love taking photo's of people. So, unless I am taking pictures of myself all the time, I will be forced to talk to people and step out from behind my shyness.

Start Date: June 6, 2009

End Date: June 6, 2010

Stay tuned, the adventure starts tomorrow. I'm nervous already. Shit.

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