It went about how you would expect. The Donald arrived on his private jet, and spoke about how he will build a wall to keep out immigrants and vowed to “never eat Oreos again” after Nabisco moved a plant to Mexico.
I have seen my version of paradise. Fresh air, passionate storytellers, uplifting community, autumn light, helpful critique, great food, bonfires and even a couple of wonderful dogs.
Much has been written about the Eddie Adams Workshop, a long weekend where professional storytellers from all over the world gather on a farm in Jeffersonville, NY to share their vision with 100 eager young photographers, and the experience holds true to the hype. It’s a truly inspiring, magical (and yes, tiring!) few days where you could be crawling through mud at 8a.m. and sharing dinner with your photographic idols at 6p.m.
It can also be a point of stress with students of visual journalism. The admission is famously selective, but not meant to be exclusionary. To that end, I would like to point out that I applied multiple times before receiving word that I would be a student, and I encourage my peers to keep applying! It may not make or break your career, but you may meet a best friend or a future colleague and return home refreshed, inspired and ready to get to work.
The community surrounding this special event is what makes it so special. I found myself surprised at the lack of competitiveness between the students and surprised at how willing the seasoned journalists were to talk to us newbies. There was no ill will, only the desire to lift up young storytellers and encourage open and honest mentorship and friendship. I’m so thankful for this spirit in the photojournalism community, and look forward to (hopefully) passing it on to another generation some day.
And now to share some photographs. Below is the story I was assigned for the workshop. Our Green Team (fearlessly lead by Carolyn Cole, produced by Alicia Hansen, edited by Nancy Andrews and tech support provided by Gabriel Biderman) had the theme of change. My assignment was to document Shannon and Andy’s wedding day and how this ritual would or wouldn’t affect change in their life. Our collaborative edit is below.
We also collected audio for the final presentation, which wasn’t required but gave our sources more agency in their story which I loved.
In addition to the assignment, I also photographed some new friends and some of the events happening on the farm.
And the last image I’ll leave you with my favorite outtake from our assignment shoot. Thanks for visiting.
I’m really missing having furry friends around, but it’s just not the right time in my life to adopt a pet. To get my fix I’ve teamed up with The Pet Knot in Phoenix to help them get some pictures up on their social media sites to attract potential homes for their adorable pups. If you notice that most of the dogs are black, that’s not a coincidence. Black dogs are far less likely to be adopted, and a part of that is because it’s more difficult to get pictures of them where you can see their friendly features than with light-colored animals. But really, who could resist these wonderful dogs? If you’re around the north Phoenix area, stop by the Petsmart at the Promenade in Scottsdale on Saturdays and Sundays to take one home.
Tonight I contributed to The New York Times’ live coverage of the Republican Presidential Debate. I wasn’t at the debate, but at a movie theater/restaurant in Scottsdale, Ariz. It was a lot of fun to see folks’ reactions to some of the candidates and questions. I hope you enjoy, too.
On August 13 I kayaked down the Salt River in search of wild horses with Simone Netherlands, who heads the Salt River Wild Horse Management Group, and Fernanda Santos, lovely human and Phoenix Bureau Chief of the New York Times. It was an absolute dream come true. Here are some of the scenes I got to witness.
Today, while de-cluttering, I found two sleeves of photographs I shot with fuji film on a 1959 Agfa Optima camera that I found in Zionsville, developed and did nothing with. Most of them have a scratch across them and are light fogged (user error?), but they feel wonderful to me. I took most of these during the week prior to my graduation from IU last year.
I’ve known Miss Emily since she was in diapers. She’s one of the kids in a few fellow British families that we created a sort of extended family with here in the Indianapolis area. We have celebrated holidays together for as long as I can remember.
This spring, she’s graduating from high school. And I was lucky enough to capture some senior shots and family photos to commemorate.
“There are certain parts of video games, especially RPGs, where the player must level up before a boss fight or go around collecting potions and items and training. Like when you train your Pokémon before you fight the Elite Four. That’s what we’re doing. That’s what being 24 is about, I think.” - Eric Ellis, my partner who keeps me sane.
May is Mental Health Month. It’s hella difficult to talk about mental health. But the more people do, the more we can reduce the stigma, be more empathetic toward one another and take care of each other. Those are some of my goals with my photojournalism and with my time on Earth. I thought it was time to talk about my own story a little bit.
On Monday, I’m seeing a doctor again to try to get my anxiety under control. It’s been two years since I stopped taking medication for it and subbed in yoga. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of managing with a healthy lifestyle. But it’s time to ask for help.
It’s not because my 23 years of life have been especially tough—I have a stable, wonderful life with a great support system. It’s just brain chemicals and the lack thereof. It’s The Thing that starts as a cold feeling in my stomach and crawls into my throat. It convinces me to sleep instead of work on my photos after a restaurant shift. It tells me I should have health insurance by now or be paying back loans. I shouldn’t eat that. I’ll never make it in photojournalism. Don’t seek out time with friends. Sleep instead.
And I’m not nearly alone. It’s the most common health problem in my county. According to the ADAA, anxiety disorders affect 18% of U.S. population. They are highly treatable, but only about one-third of those suffering receive treatment. We’re afraid of the ramifications of diagnosis because it seems different from a disorder that affects other parts of our body. It feels like we should be able to just stop the feelings (or lack of emotions). There is a shame that accompanies mental health care, but there shouldn’t be.
Part of my recent struggle with The Thing has been adjusting to life after university. I crave a life of steady, daily photography, but I’m not there yet.
In the months between internships, I’m working more than full time at a busy (delicious) restaurant and freelancing on the side. I’m not making pictures enough to quiet The Thing telling me that I’m losing my reporting muscles. The last time I worked for a daily paper was early January. It hasn’t been that long, but still I miss the teamwork and support.
Journalists my age may not ever have steady careers working for just one client. And that’s okay. It’s actually exciting. But when the anxious part of me takes over, it’s hard to get my work done.
Going abroad and working on my own project was a liberating privilege. I should have been ecstatic and filled with gratitude. And I was, but paralyzed by fear and the pressure I put on myself as well. I am proud of the work I did, but I know I missed out on making pictures because of anxiety. “You could have done more.” And since I’ve been home, the whispering has ensured my work on the editing has been lethargic as well. “If you just don’t finish the project, the failure will be more bearable.”
Some weeks recently, Liminal has been the only project I work on, and It’s mostly because I don’t want to let Eric down. This personal project has been immeasurably good therapy. It keeps me accountable and keeps me making pictures, even when I don’t want to.
Creative jobs are just that: jobs. We need to go to work daily, regardless of if we have other jobs as well. Even when we’re exhausted. Even when we’re afraid of failure.
“Fear doesn’t go away. The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day.”
― Steven Pressfield, The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks & Win Your Inner Creative Battles
I won’t let my anxiety to stand in the way of the work I want to do. It’s not weak to ask for help or to admit all of this to whoever reads it. If anyone out there ever needs an ear or a hand, I’m here. Talking about mental health is important, and we’re just now coming into a culture in this country where it’s okay to admit to struggling with it. We’re fortunate—that isn’t the case in many parts of the world.
Rock on, friends. Remember to be kind to one another and keep doing work that sets your heart on fire. Don’t be ashamed of working outside of the industry to make ends meet. Admire your peers work, but keep blinders handy to concentrate on your own path. And ask for help when you need it.
Pictures of cute kids, mostly.