LomiMonk Photography

Sketches: Audience

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There is more to this image than meets the eye. I suppose that is why many pictures are valued more by the photographer who made them than the audience. Often images have a backstory the viewer is not privy to and this leads to the photography of self interest. I have fallen prey to it; you probably have too. We see such self-interest a lot these days of social media, especially in apps like Instagram. Most of the time I try to let – or make – the images I create stand on their own. There is something in me that believes this is the mark of good photography.

But there are also times when an image augments the words associated with it; and when words augment the image. I think this is one of those times.

This image shows a lone guitarist, on stage, playing to a single audience member who seems to be nursing his beer slowly, sip by sip. To my mind he is intrigued enough by the guitarist to draw out his enjoyment of his ale, but not enough to commit to another glass. There is a feel of sadness to this image for me – a solitariness for both men sharing this experience. One performs; the other absorbs. But each seems in their own world, with their own emotions and thoughts. I am reminded of the reality that we are each alone with our introverted nature: the thoughts and feelings of our mind.

And yet this image is anything but that. The performer, Keith Sanchez, a fantastic guitarrista from Belen, New Mexico who plays the music circuit of central New Mexico and runs the New Mexico Academy of Rock and Blues teaching children a love and appreciation for the musical style, is the son. The single audience member, his father.

This is a father and son connection. Having sons myself I can’t help but wonder at the thoughts and emotions present within the father. I’d love to know.

We spoke at length, Keith, his father, his mother, my wife, my sons, and me. I was taken with Keith’s playing style, his set list, and his choice of languages. You see, despite his heritage and name, Sanchez did not grow up speaking Spanish but rather learned while living in Ecuador with his family during his teen years. Have you ever heard “Hotel California” in Spanish? I have! He rocks it!! And he was friendly, and open, and clearly close with his parents. And he made a point to entertain my young sons from the stage. Not too big for his britches, this guitarrista.

I look forward to hearing him play again and perhaps continue our conversations. He performs at Il Vicino Cantina the last Sunday of the month, at the Luna Mansion in Los Lunas every Friday night, and periodically at Scalo’s Il Bar and Opa’s bar in Nob Hill.

On a side note, there were more audience members than myself and the father. This is a long room and the tables behind me were filled with local families and groups of friends enjoying a freshly made pint, the music, and good company.

Posted by Brian Miller in Creativity, Culture, Nuevo Mexico, Tierra Encantada

Sketches: Brothers

A bonus treat today for you: a two-fer! While I haven’t stated it publicly, these sketches on Wednesdays are an opportunity for me to practice a necessary – and very important skill – in photography: that of the edit. Edit, that is, in terms of selection rather than post-processing. These Wednesday posts offer an opportunity to ruthlessly edit my work, my play, down to one meaningful image. A little glimpse of irony perhaps, or something representative of New Mexico, of culture, of fitting in, of not fitting in, or a glimpse into my life, or your life.

I struggle with these edits. What should I show in this one image this week? What is worthwhile? And why, once the choice is made, this image?

It hurts throwing out images. This is a painful process. But it is necessary. Arriving at good images requires it. By throwing out the chaff ruthlessly we come to the wheat; the good stuff. There will be a few, I think. Not many, but a few. I am curious about those.

Today, a glimpse into my life. Brothers. A theme I have my eye on as these young brothers grow their relationship. I am curious how it will play out for them. I am curious what I can record for them. A bonding. A sharing. Differences. Similarities. Shared experiences.

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Posted by Brian Miller in a la casa, at home, Creativity

Sketches: Bells

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There is something about the Asian aesthetic that I just love. I live in a land dominated by Catholic Christian mythology, rites, and art which I am slowly appreciating. But there is always something calming and peaceful for me in Asian religious artwork. These bells were a gift to me and reside in my office.

Posted by Brian Miller in Buddha, Culture, Monochrome

Sketches: Be|Longing

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Every “in” group creates an “out” group.

Posted by Brian Miller in Animals

Sketches: Not Responsible

A Professional Bull Rider greets is family before his bull ride at a rodeo in Belen, New Mexico

A Professional Bull Rider from Belen, New Mexico greets his wife and daughter before his comeback from injury ride in the Casper Baca Roughstock Rodeo in Belen, New Mexico, Spring 2012.

Posted by Brian Miller in Culture, Nuevo Mexico, Sketches, Tierra Encantada

Why Make Photographs?

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I went to a lecture a few weeks ago at the Art Therapy Department at my Alma Mater that made me chuckle, gave voice to something I’ve been contemplating for a while, and made me think.

I chuckled at the beginning of this lecture because the speaker, Judy Weiser, Ph.D., LPAT, (a psychologist and licensed art therapist) asked the attendees which among them made photos? Everyone raised their hand. She then asked who kept their pictures? Everyone raised their hand once more. Then she asked, “why?”

Silence.

I chuckled.

I get it. That is a difficult question to answer, even for trained therapists highly skilled in introspection. We have difficulty answering that question. It’s a personal question. It is also a universal question. Why do we take pictures? Why do we keep them?

Each of us knows why. We just have difficulty articulating it. It is just that the “why?” is beyond words, and words don’t do much justice to the answer. It is a feeling state that can only be pointed to, suggested, or implied with words. And even then, if using words, we depend on the other – our audience – to have experienced something similar in order to understand, to empathize. Some folks have a gift with words that way and can touch a place within us we didn’t know we had. Gifted photographers do the same with a different medium. But those moments and memories that touch the deepest parts of ourselves are usually created by ourselves – or someone emotionally near to us – and so they arrive in the world, and stay in the world, full of deep, wordless, meaning.

The photographs that illuminate these memories touch us emotionally; they help us remember; they are a crystalized representational moment of the stream of time we experience as life; they help give shape and form to those people, pets, things, events, experiences that might no longer exist (and that we know at some deep unconscious level – at the very least – will cease to exist one day); they keep memories alive; they help provided meaning; they express our inner world of feelings and context; and they are beautiful; and they are ours; and they matter.

Why do you take pictures? Why do you keep them? Who sees them? Who does not see them? What do they mean to you? How do you relate to them? Which pictures make you the happiest? Which did you not care for in the moment but, years later, were you ever so grateful were made? Which pictures do you wish had not been taken?  Which are you proud of? Which would you not part with for anything? Which anger you, hurt you, haunt you? Which bring unimaginable joy?

I started photographing in earnest only about 5 or 6 years ago in response to an inner urge to examine the unconscious material that emerges in my images. I also started because it made me happy and I needed some of that feeling at the time. I continue because I choose to not put down something that makes me happy. It turns out I was doing photography as therapy; who knew?

Ms. Weiser mentioned during her presentation that, “…if something inside is going to out, it will out! And if it can’t out through words it will out through photos and art.” (As an aside, part of one psychological theory is that if something wants to out and doesn’t have a generative way to do so, it will do so in degenerative ways, through addictions, compulsions, self injurious behavior, etc.)

Well ok, then. It will out. Best to give it a medium to out, no?

During the past 10 years, and especially the past 5, there has been an absolute boom of photography. Many lament this democratization of the craft. They call it the dumbing down of the art, that so many ships on the waters have resulted in lowering the water level. Hogwash. Sure, the economic opportunities for professional photographers has changed. But this is not what this paradigm shift is all about: it is about people claiming a voice for their experience that does not require words, or cannot be said in words. To my mind, since words are merely representational – they simply point to an idea, they are not the idea itself – giving a visual voice to millions of people is a good thing for those people. It matters. Photos matter.

Posted by Brian Miller in Photographic Mindset

On Being Vulnerable in the Creative Process

I watched a TED.com video a while ago. It was recommended by David duChemin in an article when he was talking about how to stop trying to sell through social media and rather attempt to connect with others. I usually try to follow David’s recommendations because, to me, he feels really connected. He feels connected to his readership and students; he feels connected to the photographic world at large through his social media outlets; he feels connected to the people he photographs for NGO organizations. But mostly I imagine him to be connected with himself, his life, and how life is.

Why do I imagine this? Well, it comes from something Brene Brown mentioned in that TED.com talk (see below for the embeded video). During her talk she mentioned that joy, happiness, contentment, comes from feeling connected with others; feeling as if we matter to another; that we belong and have a place in the world. And, she makes the point that to feel connected with others and with ourselves we need to be able to tolerate being vulnerable.

Now, vulnerability, as I see it, is tied to some very strong emotions, the strongest among them being fear, but also involving anxiety and shame. These are challenging emotions for many and our mental health hospitals and counseling offices are filled with people attempting to come to terms with them. (I know, my day job is in the mental health field and I deal with these emotions in others and in myself on a daily basis.)

What does all this have to do with the creative process? Well, that also comes from something Brene Brown mentioned in the video: Life is messy. Life does not go according to plan; others fail to live up to our expectations; the world betrays us at times; things are unfair; we are crippled by our own fears and doubts. Often times life just lines up according to its own-maddening-set of rules and we are often left feeling as if we weren’t given a playbook-let alone a rule book. As a result, living, and being creative, requires a large measure of courage. Courage to face our creative process in all its messiness. Courage to try things that don’t seem easy and have a high failure rate. We require the courage to be vulnerable in the face of those that would criticize our work and our efforts; the courage to dive into a creative endeavor without the promise of success at any step along the way.

And yet it is necessary, this thing called vulnerability. It is a necessary step in the creative process; it is a necessary step in connecting with others; and it is a necessary step in coming to terms with living this human life contentedly, happily, joyfully. It is a necessary part of the process in creating anything really: from new business venture to creative scrapbook, from professional power-point presentation to your wedding photobook. We throw ourselves headlong into the abyss of the unknown future with little more than a blind faith that we will be alright in the end. This is vulnerability and we are swimming in a sea of it called living. We do not create anything new by playing it safe.

So, what do you want to create? One image? A dozen? A series? A book? A canvas? An ebook perhaps? Some stock images? Do you want to create a photographic business? Do you want to create a notebook to give to others? Or perhaps a calendar? All of these involve risk: the risk of being rejected, hurt, embarrassed. All of these can also include the risk of being successful. And yet, there it is. That is what we must face.

 

Posted by Brian Miller in Creativity, Photographic Mindset