lori vrba photog blog

In Your Own Backyard

Ok, let me tell you about my own backyard...its ridiculous.  Thank god that yard is in the back because it is neglected and ugly.  Last January, my husband set up a trampoline while I was away for the weekend.  Unfortunately, he chose to do this literally, two feet from the backdoor.  You open the door, step outside and bump into this gigantic eye sore of entertainment.  I was not happy.  

But the kids are on it every single day and interesting things happen on a trampoline.  Static electricity, toys that do cool things when they are bounced, acorns and leaves that fall from the surrounding trees, somebody decides to nap on the warm sprawling space.

So occasionally I grab my camera and shoot...not knowing how or if any of it fits in my working projects.  Then I got my big idea.  I'm going to collect everything I shoot on, over, under, around the trampoline and call this series "Tramp Art."  I don't have enough keepers yet to put the gallery up on my site but I'm excited about it and I'm calling Dibbs.

TRAMP ART

Life 101

October has been thought provoking.  On the tail end of Atlanta, facing a schedule that is quickly over-flowing into the new year, and printing the January show with images I have made through out the last 16 months...well...a good deal of reflection is going on inside my head.

 I realize I'm speaking in generalities when I say, the forties are an interesting time in a woman's life...but I believe that its often true.  Babies have turned into young people who can dress themselves.  There is ample room to consider oneself as more than the mama bear.  Time starts rushing by and the empty nest becomes a future reality rather than some unimaginable, distant impossibility.

So here I am.  With an awakened awareness that no, I don't know everything.  For awhile there, I actually thought I did.  I had lived long enough, had plenty of life experiences, put a few demons to rest and figured there wasn't much left to learn.  Arrogant and stupid...yea, I know.  The universe was cracking up, and apparently this year, decided to bring me back to the classroom.

I'm trying to figure out if its possible to learn without making mistakes.  Is the mistake required?  Cuz I would prefer to be spoon fed the lessons and skip the messy stuff.  I'd like to avoid the remorse & guilt that lingers too long after such mistakes.  Yea, a pain-free learning environment sounds better.

Doesn't seem to work that way.  This year...misguided trust, ignoring my own intuition, and losing sight of my personal priorities and sensibilities have been the biggies.  And I have only myself to blame.  Its time to own it.  Learn.  Move on.  

Coming out of those mistakes...landing on the other side...there is reward.  The prize is...you get to be a better person.  And isn't that the whole idea in life?  Isn't that what we're supposed to be doing?   

Knit A Life

Hey People.  Full day here.  I planned on setting up chem first thing after getting the kids off to school.  Plan was derailed by my youngest son's tummy ache (we were up all night)...morning trip to the dr. and then an x-ray to rule out some swallowed foreign object.  Reminds me of the time we had a plummer out, to retrieve a Superman toothbrush that had apparently been flushed by some innocent looking child...reeked havoc on the pipes.  So the x-ray was to eliminate those kinds of suspicions.  Ya never know what those kids are up to.

Finally had the darkroom up and running this afternoon.  I'm printing for the January show in Durham.  I've put off the tough stuff for last.  I have 20 20X20's to print.  But its going better than expected.  And it felt good today to see some of these images for the first time BIG.  Oh yea, I like 'em big.  

Nata brought dinner over and we sat out on the porch for awhile.  You can actually SMELL fall.  Musky, earthy fall is all around.  I have wood drying on the porch because it is almost time to START MAKING FIRE.  So maybe you're asking yourself..."How can this crazy girl STILL get so amped up over every. single. change. of. season."

I went my whole freaking life without it.  That's how.  Leave me be.  I'm busy with Fall

Road Trip Revelations

Just back from Atlanta.  I saw two wonderful shows running in Jackson Fine Art...Mona Kuhn and Shauna & Robert Parke Harrison.  Both were thought provoking and inspiring.  

I had portfolio reviews all day Saturday and then made the six hour drive home on Sunday where I spent most of the time processing the entire experience.  By the time I pulled into my beloved Chapel Hill...I had some real clarity regarding my work.  

Okay, a few epiphanies so where to start?

Whether it be a reviewer, collector, photographer...when I show someone my portfolio for the first time...the response is positive.  Hey, this is good.  I have had that positive experience enough that I no longer feel nervous about opening the box.  But what I find fascinating is, what happens when individual images are being critiqued...particularly by reviewers i.e. "The Powers That Be."  These are credentialed professionals who have seen it all and have the means to launch a photographer's career in the world of fine art.  And still...the response to each image is personal and swings wildly from one person to the next.  It goes like this...(Reviewer #1): "Lori, this image is incredible. Haunting. Universal.Truly one of your best."  (Reviewer #2) SAME EXACT IMAGE: "This one does not work. Its contrived. Too theatrical. Obvious. I think you should take it out of your portfolio."  They speak with authority.  And I have now had THAT experience enough that I don't even feel confused or frustrated by it.  I listen with an attentive, appreciative look on my face but I'm smiling on the inside because I finally know that I HAVE TO TRUST MYSELF.  And I finally do.  This is large.

Now here is the most interesting thing to me.  With all of the preparation that goes into going to a review...I edit, re-edit, look again, re-print, sequence, shuffle and sequence again, lay them all out on the floor...I mean its nuts.  By the time I get there, I can hardly stand myself.  I hate every picture I've ever taken.  But I've discovered that while I am repeatedly presenting my work to people who have never seen it...I SEE IT WITH FRESH EYES.  Not through THEIR eyes, but through my own.  Their response isn't even relevant to what I'm saying here.  It matters of course, but more importantly, I am able to look and consider my own work with far more objectivity and clarity than when I'm alone with it for months at a time.  

And here is what hit me in Atlanta.  This year has been prolific for me.  I have shot and printed a ridiculous amount of work.  I've tried all kinds of things.  I've questioned who I am as a photographer.  I've pushed the envelope.  I've allowed myself to be influenced by some who I believed knew more about what makes a good photograph.  Great.  But this weekend, as I was REALLY seeing my prints for the first time in a long time...I found my place.  It isn't the dramatic, staged, tweaked, and over worked ideas that make my best pictures.  It is the quiet ones.  Where I saw some subtle soft expression or slight gesture in perfect light and pressed the shutter.  Those quiet pictures are my best pictures.  That is who I am as a photographer.  Monu-Freaking-Mental.  I know.  Finally.

There is some real peace in that.  And a calm confidence.  Let the real work begin.

  

Rock To The Pocket

I'm headed to Atlanta in a week.  The whole city is exploding with all things photography for the month.  I'm doing a day of portfolio reviews and then staying for a few shows.  I am particularly excited to see a show of Robert Parke Harrison.  I've only seen one print of his in person...at the Art Institute of Chicago...stopped me dead in my tracks.

While I was in Houston, I attended the opening of "Unseen & Rediscovered"...Keith Carter's show at the Art League.  Stunning.  Rather than show his greatest hits, or even what he knows the public wants from him, he put together a variety of new work...unexpected; some color, some digital, self portraits.  It is fascinating and valuable for me to see how a successful artist keeps the work challenging and therefore interesting for himself.  I think its risky and brave...which I most admire in people...artist or not.  Guts.

On the homefront...my 8 yr. old Grayson has been taking guitar lessons from my teacher Joe.  He's been playing the electric for a couple of months now.  While I was away, Joe sent a recording to my iphone of the jam session the two of them had just done.  I stood there in Beck's kitchen, a thousand miles away with the volume on full blast, tears rolling down my face.  So last week, Joe taught it to me and Gray and I jam every morning before school.  I made up lyrics..."Me and the G-Man Are Gonna Rock This House Down", which I sing over and over while we play in my office.  Him, in a child's chair, with his wild head of curls bobbin' to the beat and his still chubby fingers workin' out the song on his bad ass guitar.  Oh it is a sight to see.