I Can't Paint

I remember once when I was eight, a kid brought a pencil drawing to school that her cousin (who shares my name) had done. I don't remember specifically what the drawing was, but I remember that it was quite astonishing. All the other kids couldn't stop gushing about it and kept paying compliments to me for my wonderful drawing. I repeatedly said that I didn't do it to all the kids dishing the accolades, until finally I got caught up in the misdirected praise and just started saying "thank you" as if it were my own. Of course, I was soon found out and made a fool of. The owner of the drawing set them all straight by telling them that her cousin by the same name was the actual artist. That was the last time I took credit for somebody else's work. I was so painfully emabarrassed that even still today if I work on a collaborative project, I am sure to only take credit for my personal contribution.

I've always been an admirer of art, but more importantly, I've always wanted to create it. I've always craved the self gratification of manifesting my ideas into something more tangible, and with equal relish, the affirmation and validation that comes from other people appreciating my art.

A few years ago I unsuccessfully tried my hand at painting. I had beautiful visions in my mind that sadly would not translate to the canvas. My skills were grossly deficient. So instead I take pictures. Not being able to make it happen by my own hand does not limit me from actualizing my artistic vision.

As a photographer, my creativity gets stunted at times, and I just stop producing anything (likewise, it happens in my writing as well). I find myself caught up in some sort of inner conflict about art. To me, a true artist is one who creates versus one who regurgitates. It's kind of like the difference between Britney Spears and PJ Harvey (among a bevy of other differences, of course). While both may have a natural talent for music, one is a performer and the other is a true artist.

That's how I feel as a photographer. Sure, I can take a pretty picture of a church, but what gives me a real sense of accomplishment and pride is when my photography is more conceptual. When it's art. More often than not, my photography is not art. Sure, it's nicely framed and composed and captured from a unique perspective, but it's not what I really want it to be.

Lately I've been creatively stagnant. I haven't shot anything in a couple months now. I keep wondering when the inspiration will resurface. In the meantime, I appease myself by looking back at the images I've created in the past year and remind myself that it will come back to me when I am ready. Here's how I remind myself:

The Alphabet Book Series
Lonesome Cowgirl
Dancing Barefoot (ode to Patti Smith)
Broken Heart
Untitled

~ the lady love