Thursday, February 19, 2009

here we go

Ok, here we go, my first blog. I've had a hard time creating the first post. I realized today that it just doesn't matter, what matters is that I just need to start. So here we go...

The goal was to hold myself accountable for sharing more images, images of the quiet moments in my life at home (or mostly at home).

I started a two year sabbatical from teaching at the Rocky Mountain School of Photography in January. So far, its nothing like I thought it would be. I thought that I would instantly change, that I would become more balanced and that good art, any art would flow from my heart and my head to my hands. Well, dah... of course not...The first few weeks were filled with doubt, a bit of guilt, hard line expectations and a sore back. There have certainly been moments of joy and gratitude for the space and time and freedom that I have. I ran down to the basement one afternoon and made a sketchbook for myself, I wanted to draw cows in the snow (the shape of them is hard). So, I made myself a sketchbook out of old paper from a drawing pad, linoleum squares as the covers and a sewn coptic binding. I taught a book making class this past summer and its gotten me excited, really excited about making books. The process is satisfying: threading a needle with waxed linen thread, folding paper to make pages, smoothing the fold with a bone folder, cutting and measuring and then sewing the pages together to form a book. I made a sketch right away. I drew a picture of my cat Botsey who died last year at twenty, buried in a hill behind our house. I drew her curled up and compact, comforted by layer upon layer of sagebrush and dirt, sand, rock and gravel. Maybe I'll paint her today, she was grey just like the sagebrush this time of year...

And I've noticed, there is still laundry to do, relationships to stroke and maintain, oil to change in my car. I don't want to run away or creep away right now to live in a root cellar dug in to the earth with my camera. I want to find and make adventures every day at home with either my camera, a pencil, a keyboard or a knife in the kitchen making eggplant parmesan.

What is becoming clear is that my thoughts need to shift, the space that I have is mine and it can be filled with daily lists of things to do or space to pick up a book of poetry and think about bones and dirt and bunchgrass.

The sun is out and I'm going for a walk... back soon.

a few images from January with my Holga, one snowy day...

1 comment:

  1. E!

    WONDERFUL. I love your words, they bring me into your personal place - thank you for inviting us in. It is a huge gift.

    And then, your photos! Holy cow! I am floored by them. They too, are so personal. And so filled with emotion of elizabeth at home. You are producing and producing fast. The Holga is perfect. The aspen and garbage can are my favorite. I want a copy of the garbage can.

    Thank you, thank you.