New Year, New Project

Day 1. Just me. Plain and simple.

Day 1

A huge part of me doesn’t want to write this blog post. My brain is a swirl of anxiety, it’s trying everything it can to avoid failure and rejection. It doesn’t want to face the fact that my craft needs re-honing. It wants to curl up in a little ball and keep hiding from the world.

Screw that part of me, let’s do this.

I’ve decided that, after about a decade since it’s first emergence in my life, I’m going to do the 365 Days Self Portrait Project in 2019.

When I first went to SMFA, I wasn’t quite sure where to start with my photography. I didn’t have a lot of art experience, I’d spent most of my early years shooting sports and self portraits. After a slightly unstable first year, I bounced back my sophomore year with this project, which worked like this:

I took one photo of myself every day for a whole year. That first year, I was strict about the rules: the photo needed to be taken on that specific day, it needed to include my body in some way and if I cheated, I had to own up to it.

It’s a lot harder than it sounds. A LOT.

There were days that I hated this project. There were days where I took one photo at 11:59pm and another at 12:01am to minimize my daily impact. There were days I set photo timers so I didn’t even bother thinking about what the image would be. There were days I phoned it in with Photo Booth shots (remember that old school Apple program?!). There were even days I used my garbage flip phone camera from high school. I took shots I loved, I took shots I still hate are recorded online, I took shots that ended up being part of my school portfolio and I took shots that later produced other projects down the line, including my senior thesis.

This project changed my art school career and accidentally turned me into the self portrait chick at school. I still look back at it fondly, even the bad days, and remember how much it taught me about photography and myself over that first year. Now, a decade later as I just hit my 30th year around the sun, I’m going to give this another go.

My 2018 was rough, to say the least. While it will always be one of the happiest years of my life with my engagement to Ed, it’s tested my mental and physical health more that any other year. I’ve been in more doctors’ offices, I’ve seen more mental health professionals, I’ve experienced my worst panic attacks and my deepest lows of depression. It’s been… yeah, I’m gonna stick with ‘rough.’

This project is what I need right now. I need to remember why I loved photography in the first place. I need to stretch my creativity again. I need to do something for me that doesn’t involve my day job, my apartment, my partner - I need something that’s MINE. 365 Days of ME.

To make some things a bit easier on me, I’ve come up with a few basic rules (because let’s be honest: I’m not a 19-year-old college student whose job was literally to take photos anymore.) Here’s how it’ll break down:

1. One picture must be produced every day of 2019.

2. That picture must include some semblance of “me,” however I’m going to be a touch more liberal with that definition this year. “Self Portrait” can include:

   1. A mental representation of “me.”

   2. Clothing or personal objects.

   3. My partner or pet (however this is only to be used sparingly).

3. To challenge myself, I must create THREE “mini projects” inside my 365 Days. This can include something similar to my 2008 mini project, “7 Secrets in 7 Days.”

4. I need to produce at least one blog post a month with updates on the project. This can include interesting photo specs, editing processes, outtakes and “mini project” descriptions.

5. I am allowed TWO lost days. Because shit happens.

6. I must post in Instagram every day, with these allowed exceptions:

   1. Travel restrictions.

   2. Family emergencies.

   3. Work conflicts.

   4. Mental or physical health concerns.

7. I can’t rely solely on boring iPhone selfies. I need to strive for using my DSLRs as often as I use my iPhone.

8. If I use film, I’m allowed a placeholder until the film gets developed. Then the photo with be swapped out.

You’re probably laughing at this absurdly serious list of rules, and I get it. However, what I learned my second year of doing this project (which got lost many years back and is only partially finished): I need real rules or I just won’t do it. I’ll make excuses, push the project aside and forget about it a few weeks into the year.

Not in 2019! This is the year of finding my photographic voice again. I want to produce one photo a month that I’m proud to have shot. I want to up my lighting and editing game, both of which have slipped since I started working professionally. I want to end 2019 with a bang, the complete opposite of 2018, which ended mostly in quiet mourning.

Let’s do this bitch.

To follow what I’m up to, you can sign up for my blog newsletter and follow me on Instagram at liz_lepage.

To see my original 365 Days project, you can visit my Flickr page here.

And the most important aspect to all this: help keep me in line as I work throughout the year. I’ll need it.

Lots of love,

Liz

What We Do For The Shot

Last week, I drove up to middle-of-nowhere, Washington to photograph a horse show. The drive from Portland, along the Columbia River and then up through central Washington, was amazing. After weeks of wild schedules, working non-stop and pulling in some big projects, I am completely exhausted. My inbox has 1,300 unread emails and counting, but I'm muddling through. 

On the drive back home, I left so I could photograph the sun going down over the Washington scenery. As it started to fade and the colors began to intensify, I saw a shot. Like THE shot that I wanted. So I slammed on my breaks (no one was behind, don't panic), pulled off into a small spot off the highway and ran out the car. 

I'll show off the sunset shot later, but I had to take the photo of my car haphazardly parked off a 2 lane highway. I keep laughing maniacally at how ridiculous this is, but then I thought: how often do we, as photographers, do crazy things for the right shot? 

I know I'm not alone here! How many of you have leaned in giant puddle of mud just to shoot at the perfect angle? Or pulled of onto an unknown road to find the best shot of that beautiful mountain? Or slammed on the brakes to capture that perfect moment? We've all done it, and if you're dedicated to your shot, we've probably done it A LOT.  

For a short second, I want to acknowledge the crazy things we do for what we love. You can see it in the images we shoot, and I think that's the best part: when you're passionate about your photography, you can feel it.  

Cheers to you photographic badasses out there, and keep doing crazy things to get the shot! 

Michelle + Peter's Wedding

You guys, I've discovered the definition of "dream wedding couple." If there are any photographers reading this, you'll know - sometimes, you end up with tough clients that test your limits. Lately, I've been able to get some perspective and realize that these harder jobs just make me bulletproof in the face of ridiculous odds.

For the love of all that is holy, though, you NEED dream clients to keep spirits high. For me, that's been Michelle and Peter; relaxed, calm, excited, open-minded, completely in love, qualities I couldn't have checked off better if I had a pre-made list in my head. The best part? When you have great clients, your images end up better than ever.

For now, here's a taste of their wedding photos, including a few of my favorites from the day. Some quick details:

Getting Ready Shots: Hilton Executive Tower

Ceremony & Reception: Jacobsen Salt Company

Bridal Shots: Tillikum Crossing & the Classic Sash & Door Company

That's all for now, folks! Lots more to come, though! :)

-liz

Pushing Forward

If you’ve spent any time reading my blog in the last two years, you’ll know that I’ve struggled with drive and creativity. These are two of the largest themes I deal with here and they’re two of the biggest issues that I fight on a daily basis. Not just in photography, but in every day life - drive encompasses more than just wanting to pick up my camera, it engulfs the ability to wake up in the morning, to get out of the house, to go to work every day. We have moments in our lives that push us to move forward and moments that cause us to halt. This is about those moments colliding.

About four years ago, I met John. I’d moved back to Portland, had been living in a house with three of my closest high school friends and was spending my time split between work and hanging out with my ill mother. My job at ON1 software was just kicking off, I was getting more work by each coming month and my bosses were allowing me to have more artistic freedom. While I was struggling with developing new personal projects, I was still picking up my cameras quite regularly. My 4x5 film camera had dozens of slides run through it, I was eating rolls of 120 for breakfast and my digital SD cards were constantly being rotated. 

John was a surprise, to say the least. When I met him, through a mutual friend, he irritated me to the core. He was awkward, yet overly cocky. He thought that talking about disgusting facts he learned in paramedic school was normal conversation. When he asked to take me out for drinks, I remember wrestling with the decision to cancel or to go get to know him better. Despite my hastily formed opinion of his personality, he charmed the pants off of me. On our walk home from the bar, John grabbed me in the middle of the street and kissed me. I knew my annoyance had turned into another feeling - warmth. 

As an EMT and CPR instructor, he was a polar opposite to me in almost every way. My room was full of photographs, handmade artwork and quilts. His apartment was full of textbooks, a TV/VCR from the early 90’s and paintings of ships. While my fondness for him grew over the coming months, he was also endlessly fascinating. He became a regular subject for me and was a perfect guinea pig for any photo project I wanted to work on. The awkwardness he showed in everyday interactions disappeared when I pulled out my camera, a rarity when photographing people. It was a constant surprise to see the calm, gentle demeanor I witnessed in our every day lives captured on film. He had a remarkable talent for pushing me to succeed, for believing that I was worth more than what I sometimes felt inside. While he struggled with his own demons, he never ceased to find ways to foster a sense of trust in myself and my work. 

Our relationship ended long before we officially called it quits. In the last year, while working through all of the emotional chaos surrounding break ups, my photography began to slip. Images of him started to vanish from my hard drives and were replaced with work. The confidence he still tried to foster began to wane and we both felt distance grow. John and I formally split over the summer.

The swells and breaks in my productivity fall in line with the moments of joy and sadness in our relationship. This seems like a pretty basic concept and I know that many people recognize similar symptoms. One of my closest friends is an unbelievable chef and has (unknowingly) been a perfect example of this notion. She cooks less when she feels depressed and tends to find more love in the kitchen when she’s in a better mood. Simple, right? 

Breaking up doesn’t automatically mean you’re throwing dishes at an ex or posting sad lyrics on Facebook. When John and I broke up, we held onto the warmth we had always felt for one another. Our lives may not have meshed well for a planned future, but the tenderness we shared lingered. Friendship can blossom out of a failed relationship if you’re willing to hang onto the pieces that are worth saving. As we tried to reestablish a baseline for what we are to each other, confusion grew. How can you miss someone, know it’s right to be apart, yet still attempt to find common ground? 

When I talk about moments colliding, I’m talking about this exhaustion of the ability to process what’s going on. Confusion in life tends to result in uncertainty in ourselves. The happy memories I have of John still exist and continue to make me smile, but now more strongly conflict with the painful ones. Since we’re no longer working towards a common goal, everything we felt for one another has fused into a ball of anxiety. How the hell do you generate a desire to create anything in all this mess?

2015 has been a year of searching for an unknowable entity and fighting for its very existence. Desire, drive, creativity, productivity, certainty, confidence, love - they’ve rolled into a cluster of ideas that I’m trying to find. Depression, self-hatred, frustration, confusion, dullness, weakness - all feelings I’m trying to rein in, fight against. Breaking up caused a large rift in my capacity to thrive, so these thoughts feel further away than they used to. While I recognize that time will help propel me forward, it can be hard to remember that some days. 

In the last few months I’ve started seeing someone new. As a writer, he’s revealed an old love I once had for poetry, so I’ve spent quite a lot of time lately sifting through anthologies. I came across a Max Ehrmann quote that seems to be just what I needed to read at just the right time:

"You are a child of the universe,

no less than the trees and the stars;

you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,

no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should."

I don’t know where I’m going or what my future holds. I can’t seem to grasp everything that’s happened to me in the last year. My feeling are messy and crazy and don’t always make sense.

What I do know is that John made an adventurer out of me. I know that I didn't waste three years of my life with someone. I know that his belief in me still holds, as a good person and a good photographer. I know that even through tough times, he is a friend above all else.

And I’m certain that I have the capacity for something better, and that even though things aren’t completely in focus, life will unfold as it should.

-liz

Where Did All The Creativity Go?

Has anyone else noticed that finding the time to be purely creative is nearly impossible these days? 

I'm imagining that many of you are nodding your heads in agreement with me right now. I'm nodding my head as I type this, which is an odd sensation in itself.

My buddy Nathan is unabashedly one of the most artistically stimulating people I've met. Years after the college spark has faded and we've picked up jobs in cramped offices, Nathan consistently makes time to be creative. That word, to him and I alike, is exceptionally vague; it includes crafting elaborate Halloween costumes or writing poetry or even cooking a new, highly detailed recipe. He plans whole nights around creative consumption, gathering friends to talk and make 'things,' to keep their minds churning in a forward motion. 

It's unbelievably exciting to see people make time to step away from the drudgery of every day life and create something new. Out of all of my friends, many of whom proclaim they're 'artists,' Nathan is truly the only one that still makes such an amazing effort. Not for the sake of Instagram likes or others to fawn over his accomplishments, but entirely for himself. How rare is that these days?

These past 6 months have been tough. While the details of my desolation aren't important, the heart of the struggle is; how the hell do I work a 'creative' job (mainly as a wedding/portrait photographer) and still find time to make photography personal to me? 

My job isn't about my needs. It's about the clients I work for. Sure, I hold a copyright to what I shoot and have some control over how images are presented, but it's not my day that I'm capturing. It's all theirs. It's their blood, sweat and tears. It's their families and friends, their dress, their tux, their cake, their everything. I show up, take pictures and then leave. They've spent months planning one day of their lives. I've spent a couple hours planning some shot ideas, location scouting and I'm good to go. 

What all this boils down to is the utter lack of control I have over 75% of the images I'm taking right now. The other 25% aren't weddings, but many are still about client preferences over mine. So an insanely low percentage of photos I've taken in 2015 were entirely for me.

That sucks. There's probably a more eloquent way to state that fact, but give me a break - I'm tired pretty much all the time these days. Despite having wonderful clients who allow me to use my creative brain in fun ways, it's not their job to fulfill my artistic needs. My work and my personal life should stay separate, for a lot of good reasons - I don't want my vision colliding too heavily with the vision of my clients. (I preach this separation knowing full well that I'm dating a bartender I met at a wedding job this summer - whoops!). 

These past two months, I've been fiercely trying to find a way to marry (wedding pun!) my photography job and my desperation for a creative outlet. While I'm not done coming up with an answer, and I don't think their truly is one, I've stumbled upon something that's been helping me a lot; EDITING gives me the control I need when I lack that control during photoshoots.

Many photographers out there are probably chuckling at me, thinking to yourselves, "Oh please, I could've told you that!" You've obviously never had to work on 5 wedding shoots at once with no assistant, had to process 10,000+ images and had to correctly remember each couple's preferences. All while working a legitimate office job to make ends meet. Let's just say it's emotionally draining, time consuming and not a hugely creative job. It's fast processing until 2am, sleeping for 5 hours, going to work and then coming home to do more of it. The next time you see me and I look tired, remember that I don't sleep that much these days. 

So amidst the thousands of photos I'm processing for each wedding, I intentionally set aside 5 images. Five photos that I shot with a little more of me in them, that speak more towards my sensibilities than my clients. Not a lot, I know, but it's the right amount to keep me happy. When I get bored or frustrated during the long hours, I take one of those photos and I go editing-crazy. No batch processing or quick fixes in Lightroom, no prepackaged presets or fast actions in Photoshop - I take my freaking time. When I normally take 15 minutes on a wedding photo, I'll take 3 hours on one of these images. I treat them like they're 100% mine, I make all the choices I wish I could make and go full-on fierce with my editing styling. These photos still end up in the hands of my clients, but I feel a little more passion towards the end result. 

For the non-wedding photographers, this concept might feel a little strange. When talking about this practice with a fellow photographer the other day, they asked, "Don't you want to treat all your wedding photos like that? Shouldn't you be passionate about all the images you're shooting?" The answer is an unequivocal "HELL NO." I just finished processing one of my recent weddings today and there are 400+ photos. Do the math in your head real quick; 400 images, 15 minutes on average for each photo, which comes out to 6000 minutes, ending up around 100 hours of work. ONE HUNDRED HOURS of editing. And when I say that's average, I mean it - a lot of photos take a lot longer than 15 minutes, so tack on another few hours for the more difficult images. I literally don't have time to be passionate and creative towards each photo. So I choose 5 (this usually ends up to be a larger number, but I always start out with 5). To me, that's a pretty good compromise.

For now, this practice is keeping me sane. I get to throw a little more me into my wedding photography, I get to hone my Photoshop skills and I get to send my clients some great final products that will hopefully end up on the phone screens of their friends and family. 

There's a lot more work I need to do to keep my brain on track, creatively. I'm currently dating another freelancer and we've been talking a lot about this problem; how do you balance the need to make money with the want to create? By writing notes down for the book you're working on while you're on a lunch break. By snapping a photo of just the gorgeous scenery during a wedding shoot. By sketching doodles on the bottom of your legal pads. By skipping one freelance gig to photograph for a project you swore you'd still be working on. 

Solutions are easy to come up with, it's doing them that seems to be hard. 

Lots of love to all you creatives out there and good luck,

-liz