And Now We Rebuild

This script was written for a live storytelling event at The Bull on February 16. I'm a better writer than a talker, as I told the audience before I butchered this. How pristine is the written word??

Last month, I attended the GAZE Festival up at the Curia compound. Its organizers created an inclusive space to showcase art, music and film from artists of all identities. I worked with the organizers on putting together some press pieces for the festival, and I ended up signing on as an event photographer, because I wanted to help these talented women however i could.

Mind you, I had never held a D-SLR in my life.

I took photojournalism class at UF and used my lil' digital camera to take photos of my then-boyfriend. So I thought, I have the observational eye. I'm always staring at people and noticing little things that bring me joy. So, obviously I can translate that to the camera right?

Wrong. Fast forward to the first performance I shot photos of. It was inside, it was dark, and there were projections of swirling colors and shape against the wall. I thought, Ooh, this will lend itself to some wild shots!

But everything I took looked dull and lifeless. I wondered, what the f is happening inside this machine, and what am I doing wrong?

I took a mental break in the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, the Canon strap hanging around my neck. I thought about the themes of the festival: identity and perception. The Way You Look At Me. The ways we alter our behavior and even our self-perceptions based on what we think others are gathering from us. As I looked in that mirror, I imagined what all the other attendees thought.

That girl isn't a photographer. Who is that girl anyway? She thinks she's a storyteller? What has she seen and heard that gives her the right?

I took a deep breath, adjusted the cuff of my sock and flung open the door, determined to give it a second try. Then, I showed the camera to a multi-disciplinary artist friend of mine, explaining the issues I was having. He took a couple shots with no trouble, and they all looked decent.

I felt deflated and nearly stripped of all the work Beyonce put in to make me this confident woman who stands before you today. I put that camera back in my Buick, and a wave of relief washed over me. My identity was returned to status quo. I'm a storyteller with words for Pete's sake. But is there no room for growth? Not tonight. Where's the bar?

The next day, GAZE hosted a series of workshops. The first one was techniques for shadow work: identifying the darkest parts of our emotions and identities, shedding light on what makes them feel so terrible. We lit three candles and associated each with an emotion: one positive, one neutral and one dark, shadowy and horrible. I chose hope, complacency and doubt. As I focused on doubt, the questions from yesterday came creeping back. Then I moved to complacency.

So what if I'm not a good photographer? I've established that I'm a writer. That's my identity. My boy Sartre says the ideal existence is quiet and passive like a tree branch swaying in the breeze. Why rock the boat?

Then that little candle flicker representing hope caught my eye. Slowly, like turning over an hourglass, a cascade of thoughts came to me. What if I take the time to get these photos edited and some of them turn out ok? What if, as I continue to use a camera, my skill set develops, and one day I can point and shoot and something almost beautiful appears on the screen? What if my observational eye can evolve to other mediums of expression?

Then and there, I made the decision not to close any doors or restrict my identity in any way. One failure can't define us. Who knows all the ways we will expand and grow in the future? Also, I had to remind myself of this fact, and it may help to hear it out loud again now:

No one is looking at you and questioning you. We're all so focused inward on our own shortcomings. We have to allow ourselves to experiment and fail. #comewhatmay

We surprise ourselves if given the opportunity, if we can bust free from those chains of self-definition and narrow self-perceptions. I know I sure as hell surprised myself, because some of those photos didn't turn out thaaat bad.