A few weeks ago I watched a clip of Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat Pray Love, speaking about the creative process. She made many interesting points but the one that I've been rolling around in my head was the idea that truly inspired creativity comes THROUGH the artist, not FROM the artist.
Of course I had considered this concept before. A few years ago when I was deep in self doubt...overwhelmed with the fear of photographic failure...a friend, who was attempting to help me, asked if I could look at my photography as a gift. From God. Well, first of all, my ideas about God probably aren't so mainstream. And also, it seemed arrogant to think that God would bring Art to the world THROUGH ME. I mean come on. Wouldn't she pick someone less messy? More capable? Someone who could just get the job done without a creative meltdown every five minutes?
But every now and then, especially here in this wildly prolific time of Art Camp...an image causes me to reconsider. Or at least to wonder. Butterfly is a good example. I saw this oversized butterfly made out of feathers in an antique shop. As soon as I laid eyes on it...I saw the picture in my mind. I came home, put Olivia in soft light, shot maybe three frames as she moved on her own in different positions. I knew when I held the contact sheet that I had the shot I was after. That's always a nice feeling.
And then came the print. Its no secret that when I like an image, I'll like it way better printed big. Usually 16X16. But since I loved this one, I decided to go 20X20 and hang it in my office. Donnor and I print 20X20's together. Wet fiber paper, that big, is more easily managed with four hands rather than two. We had finished for the day and Donnor was doing what I call the Squeegie Show. He pulls the prints from the washer, squeegies off the excess water, and holds them up for me (sitting in a barstool on the opposite end of the darkroom), and I either declare it a failure or wildly applaud our brilliance. On that day, when he held up that huge print of Butterfly, I literally cried. I was overwhelmed with the joy of having made something so beautiful. And couldn't even begin to think that something like that could have come from me. Joy.
If any of this sounds like bragging...let me say, everyone won't love Butterfly as much as me. I don't even need them to. And for every good photograph I've ever made, I've made HUNDREDS that sucked. But FOR ME, this image (to borrow a phrase from Keith Carter), met all my requirements. It was universal. It was organic. It was sensual. It was feminine. It said what I wanted it to.
I guess I'm always looking for another tool to keep in my how-do-I-keep-going-when-it-feels-too-hard box. This idea that if I just open myself up to the Art Gods and let them do all the heavy lifting...well, its a tool. It takes a little pressure off. Frees me up a bit.
I hope they're hovering today.
