by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Process, Work in Progress |
You know sometimes you hear something and it resonates as an AHA! lightbulb moment and all of a sudden you UNDERSTAND? You know what I’m talking about?
Well, I had one of those AHAs! today.
It revolved around the work-in-progress I showed you last week.
This puppy. It’s a big canvas, 4 x 4 feet. The image is based on an iPad painting I created back in January for a 30 paintings in 30 days challenge. I let it sit all week because I was busy. And when I made it to the studio yesterday, I found myself having way too much fun with landscapes and oil pastels. That canvas was soooo last week.
And today there was FaceBook. And e-mail. And all sorts of interesting stuff on the interwebs. And Facebook again. And all the other stuff I had to catch up with…including an online interview between Catherine Just and Rita Rivera Fox about being connected with ourselves. And how we find distractions to keep from feeling what’s really going on.
Ohhhhhhhhhh…LIGHTBULB!!!
So I sat and asked myself if I was really hungry for those chips. And my body said, Hungry? Helloooooo– you’re just scared shitless of that painting. What if you screw it up and it isn’t any good?
Well, logically speaking, that’s not a big deal. Screwups happen all the time in the studio, I just paint over it. Not worth eating that whole bag of potato chips over.
So I said, Hey fear, here’s some breath for you. Then went into the studio and painted. Spent a few hours putting paint on, scraping paint off. One step forward, two steps back in search of the creative voice this image wanted
I couldn’t find it but I wasn’t eating chips either.
Just when I was getting ready to stop for the day, I said what the hell and began smooshing the paint around with a rag and my fingers. And got just the look I didn’t know I was going for.
Rough. A little edgy. One hundred percent listening to my gut, not my head.
It’s a start. Perhaps there’ll be a finished painting to show next week. And if not, that’s okay, da Muse is happy and life is good.
Even without potato chips.
(But I didn’t say anything about chocolate!)
As always, I’d love to hear what you have to say about this in the comments below. And remember—
by Susan Lobb Porter | Photography, Portraits |
Shadow.
Shadows. Mystery of light. My airy doppleganger.
Shadow Portrait, Hay Shed
Susan Lobb Porter
Moi, captured against the wall of the hay shed. Rough wood in the glare of a single compact fluorescent bulb.
Shadow Portrait with Trees
Susan Lobb Porter
Moi again. Striking the cameo pose against the late afternoon sun.
I am becoming emboldened by these shadow portraits, by these images of me-not-me. I’ll be sharing more with you from time to time.
Technical info: These were created on my iphone 4s while enrolled in Catherine Just‘s online class, In Plain Sight. Do yourself a favor, check out her classes. It’s not photography, it’s transformation.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Photography |
“Summer in the deep South is not only a season, a climate, it’s a dimension. Floating in it, one must be either proud or submerged.” ― Eugene Walter, The Untidy Pilgrim
Last week the weather was so HOT, so sticky sultry all consuming miserable, I could’ve been in Florida. Or Texas. Or some place sane Yankees don’t venture to in July. I know because back when Daddy was alive and my parents retired to Florida I used to have to go there every summer for his birthday. For his ‘this might be the last birthday’ guilt-trip vacation.
I’m NOT a fan of Florida. NOT. At. All. But my children have fond memories of those southern summers: beaches with holy roller baptisms and alligators all in the same day, giant grasshoppers and cute little armadillos squished into the pavement alongside the highways and back roads.
But the thing that impressed them the most was the exploding cow.
She was dead, lying in a field and puffing up in the summer heat like a bovine balloon. Until. She. Popped. I kid you not. And let’s just leave it at that, okay?
So I know something about summer. Sultry heat. Know something about what Eugene Walter means by that quote up above. And last week, in the hills of northern California, far far from the deep south, I let the heat get the best of me. Let it wring me out like an old sweaty rag and leave me shuffling through life limp and cranky.
I’d walk into the studio, look around and walk out again. Over and over and over. Couldn’t think of what to do, couldn’t get the creativity rolling when simply being worked up a sweat.
Just when it looked like my life was one big creative sputter (drumroll please) ta-da… I started another online photography class with Catherine Just, In Plain Sight.
Handsprings! Backflips! Da Muse is back in town!
The assignment: pick a topic and photograph it for 30 days. Well, you know what happened the last time…the pony series. Which is still going strong 170 something days later.
I had to pick a new subject for this class. But I was hot and cranky, remember, and wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. On the first day I had to run an errand downtown and I came across this.
Shadows and Reflections #1
Susan Lobb Porter
The lines and shadows intrigued me. I thought of all the ways I could take that concept. Shadows. Paths that I walk. Lines. Convergence. The possibilites were making me crazy until I decided to let the photos lead the way.
Day two took a slightly different turn. I woke up early, around 6. The sky was yellow and heavy with smoke from a distant fire. I lay in bed thinking so much for shadows.
But I was wrong.
Shadows and Reflections # 2
Susan Lobb Porter
I caught sight of this on the wall as I went to take the dogs out. Aha! Heat, dull sky…mystery. Time to sacrifice another chicken to da muse. (Disclaimer: No chickens, except for the one that went into last night’s chicken salad, were sacrificed to the cause)
Day three dawned bright and sunny. And hot. I did say hot, right? First thing in the morning, probably between 6 or 7, I went down to feed the horses. But my shadow wouldn’t cooperate, she stayed behind me.
Shadows and Reflections #3
Susan Lobb Porter
No matter how fast I moved, how much I twisted, she was there where she wanted to be. As long as I remain in the light my shadow self will always be there.
Day four. 6 AM. Same time of day, same wall but look at the difference between this and day two.
Shadows and Reflections # 4
Susan Lobb Porter
The sun was bright, the light against the wall shifting and changing by the minute. I hurried to take a few shots before taking the dogs out. But the windows needed to be shut against the promise of the morning heat as well.
Dogs won.
Day five. Puppy potty break before bed. I never noticed it before but the lights on the patio cast two shadows. Two illusions of me connected , overlapping at the lower legs like a couple of conjoined twins.
Shadows and Reflections # 5
Susan Lobb Porter
Bean decided to come between them. Did he prefer one over the other, I wonder? Did he even know they were there? Oh man, getting way too existential here. Whatever. I think this is an interesting image.
Day six. Early morning. On my way to feed the horses. I stopped at the top of the front porch steps and thought holy crap! Visions of good stuff all around me!
Shadows and Reflections # 6
Susan Lobb Porter
Shadows. Lines. Angles. I was AWASH in creative inspiration.
Day seven. DearDaughter’s birthday. It was evening. I was in her old room, the one she painted hot pink the year she was 16. The only light came in through windows to the north and east. There wasn’t much, just enough to catch me sitting on her bed.
Twenty-six years, almost to the minute, that she was born.
Shadows and Reflections # 7
Susan Lobb Porter
And here I was twenty-six years later, sitting on her bed taking pictures of my shadow. Thinking about the time that passed. Wondering where it went. My baby’s milestones…learning to walk, learning to talk. Going to school. Graduating from Berkeley. Where she’s been. Where she’ll go. Future milestones she’s yet to define.
And then I realized those memories were like the shadows, shifting and changing over time. The only thing about them that remains consistant is the love. And that’s good enough for me.
Because no one need the daily reality of exploding cows, now, do they?
Technical info: All photos were taken using an iPhone 4s. There was a little tweaking involved in PhotoShop with some of them but not too much.
So that’s it, m’dearies. What I did on my summer vacation. Oh wait, I’m not on vacation. Okay, what I did the first week of July, the first week of In Plain Sight. There’ll be more next week. Perhaps some painting as well. So come on back and check it out.
Meanwhile, as always, if you liked this post please share it with your friends the world the whole freakin’ UNIVERSE. I’ll give you a pony if you do. Or chocolate, yes, chocolate. Which I’ll eat for you and enjoy very much.
XOXOXO Heart emoticons here because you are my best best best beloveds.
But you KNEW that, didn’t you?
Now go share this post, okay? And thanks for the chocolate.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Photography, Ponies, Ponies in the Morning |
We’ve been together a long time, two horses, a donkey and moi.
We’re all getting old. One of the horses is at the DMD stage, damn near dead. Except even at the overripe age of 33 she’s as healthy as, well, a horse.
The other one isn’t far behind. At 26 he’s pushing the age thing. And the last few years he’s had skin problems that make his life miserable every summer.
The donkey came to me as a rescue 13 years ago. I knew she had issues but I signed on for the duration. At 17 she’s the baby of the bunch. Just recently her gray coat has begun showing signs of the other kind of gray.
Just like me.
Last month I began taking their photographs every day. It was an exercise for Catherine Just’s Soul*full eCourse. I signed up for the class because I love love love love LOVE Catherine’s photography. And philosophy. And great big BEAUTIFUL heart.
This is not your average photography class. The word aperture has not been mentioned once. Then again, with a tagline of deepen your mind*body*spirit connection what was I expecting?
I wasn’t expecting to resume my long dormant daily meditation practice. Or take up Qi Gong again. I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with my gray hair or to feel comfortable enough in my own skin to take self-portraits.
Often. Like every time I whip out the camera. Just because I can.
Even though I always did my best to avoid being photographed. Even though I cringed at the toll age has taken on my face.
The first week of class we were given an assignment to photograph something in our daily life. And to keep photographing it every day. I decided to photograph the horses every morning when I fed them. Simple enough. Throw the iPhone in my pocket, snap a few pictures, post ’em online.
But it turned into something much more than that. First I began arting them up in one app or another, turning snapshots into something more interesting. And I began including myself in many of the photos. My first thing in the morning self. Pre-shower. Pre-coffee. Sleepy eyes, puffy face, uncombed hair and all SELF.
And as I documented this ritual, as I studied the images, I realized I was falling in love all over again. In love with old horses who will break my heart soon enough.
And in love with myself. Because I’m no longer afraid to love old horses. Or anyone else.
You can see more of these photos on my FaceBook page. And if you like what you see, please share with your friends. And say hello in the comments below. I love to hear what you have to say. As always, heart emoticons here. xoxoxo
