Elle Effect Photography

What inspires me? A question that seems to be floating around quite a few places. It seems to be popping up in almost every conversation I’ve had in the past few days. I’m here to attempt to answer a bit of that. At least what’s been inspiring me in the past week…

A hodge podge of the small things:

My window cracked every so slightly at night so I can listen. My room on a Sunday afternoon with that particularly blue sheet hanging on the window for extra coverage… how it feels, the blue hues that bounce off the walls, the stillness it brings (funny how colors do that),

curling up in my t-shirt sheets and flannel cover, my lips getting stuck together and slowly parting, slow blinking, smiling with not a soul in the room, waking up in the morning, waking up in the afternoon, waking up at three in the morning, waking up, the smell of new books, the smell of old books, realizing how much skin I have and laughing about it, putting your feet up on the dash, secret places, docks and rivers, watching the trees change in every season, attempting to document those changes, the feeling in the wind when it communicates that spring is coming, walking alone and knowing that you’re not alone, that crazy out-of-body experience that can happen at any given moment, dirty cityscapes, the country, getting dirty, the knowing of being beautiful without a mirror, breathing someone else’s breath into your mouth, knowing your loved in an embrace, communicating without words, realizing that you will never, ever be four years old again - and desperately wanting to be, the obnoxious sun at noon, the soothing sun at dusk, living, living, living, breathing, alive, alive, alive, breathing, wow. Feeling it all, taking it all, aching in it all, screaming, fear, panic, calm, comforting, reassuring, encouraging, gasping, joining, loving, moving, stripping, joying, enjoying, learning. Face, hands, feet, body, soul, journey, direction, maps, paper cuts, dreams, visions, fingertips, lips, eyebrows, expression, large, small, medium, stocky, thin, healing, whole, journeying, color, movement, touch, words, language, communicating, capturing, moment, time, timeless, old, young, lovely, blue, white, grey, black, scent, scene, change, five, sixteen, eighteen, twenty, twenty-one, thirty-five, kids, trips, money, fifty, change, seventy, long, one-hundred, finish, legacy.

I just completely and utterly let go and jam wrote. I’m sure all of my high school teachers thought I was the crazy one in class when I had to read my jam writing aloud (as you can see). Maybe it took you somewhere. I want to feel life. Every single thing. I want either my heart or someone’s heart captured in every photo I take. And the photo doesn’t have to even have a person present. Someone built the building I took a photo of and they linger there in heart, or an old home where many lived, or a place packed with so many that hearts are just… everywhere. I feel my heart and soul expanding in my visions of photography. I feel somedays that too much yeast was put in the bread and I’m about explode. I’m trying to take every moment in stride, not skipping needed steps - only leaping when necessary.

I was asked if I wanted to be some famous photographer. I couldn’t answer. This is what I think of: if I can change or better the person I am currently capturing and better the world in some small, odd or large, great way with that photo, I’m accomplished. I have felt invisible - the most horrible, aching kind of invisible - when I needed just one person to see. Just one. Now, I am more than blessed to have those certain few who really see me. Who truly cherish me. Who protect and further my heart. I am more than blessed and pray to God Almighty I never take it for granted. I want to see people. Present them simply just the way they are whether through a portrait in Vogue or a shot of a child in South Africa. Everyone wants and needs to be seen. I want my lens to capture souls - to capture and allow others to see, to be inspired, to change, to want to change, to want to further and be furthered.

So yes, I believe those closest to my heart inspire me. When the good, bad and the ugly in me is seen by them and exposed, I am kept humble this way. They are my foundation, my anchor. You mean the world to me.

Even with all this said - there is still one missing. That person I visualize experiencing every moment with me; the good and the bad, the horrific, aching, joyous and incredible moments. The person I see when I roll over after an afternoon nap and stare into. The person I laugh with. The person I cry with, grow with, joy over with, enjoy with, love with. I’m not asking for that person now, now, now… but it’s something that does cross my mind. My heart cannot rush its process. When the time is right, it will be. I will be seen, he will be seen, and we will see. Yes, I sound somewhat like a hopeless romantic - and that may be true in some cases, but I’ve seen what love looks like. I’ve seen the struggling family without enough resource and how the man and wife grow, ache and love to make it through each day. How my Grandpa still looks at my Grandma after almost 60 years of marriage. She has been there through it all with them. Through, it, all. The depiction of what love is today is… unreal. Exploiting and not cherishing or protecting. It is not all that and a piece of pie all the time - and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want to experience pain - without it, there would be no appreciation or balance.

I’m ranting. A lot. This is… hmmm.

To add even more length and potential confusion -  but it somehow fits. Take what you can from it.
 Straight from the journal:

Winter is such a vulnerable season.

This is the first time I’ve been here in the winter. Surprisingly, it’s 52 degrees on December 19th. I’m in a light sweater sitting on old timber overlooking the dock. It’s about dusk, or just before. The sky is light blue and a bit golden, reflection ever so slightly on the dirty-hued water below.

Last time I was here, it was the end of summer, beginning of fall. The trees were just changing, hanging heavy over the water waiting to let go of the leaves they held.

Right now, the trees are completely bare. They’re naked - not so heavy as before. I can see across the river to the road… before, it was nonexistent due to the foliage. I feel naked and bare, too.

I honestly don’t like winter very much. Snow huge once (or a few times) and let spring come back. Everything is uglier in the winter, too. Brown, dead, awkward. The water at the end of the summer was an emerald green. Now, it’s tone is a light, musty brown; leaves everywhere.

Every tree is different. Without the other, you would never know. They all bring out definition in the other by standing next to one another. This one has more of a rough exterior - this one is smoother. This one is taller, this one more limbs, this one… and so forth. It’s a continual definition. Others show you who you are. Iron sharpens iron. Without community, we would never know who we are.

Somehow, that fit. I’m hesitant to post it, honestly. I feel too exposed. But, maybe that’s exactly what I need right now. And… just a thought… community is not necessarily one specific community geographically. Community to so much more than that. Anyone who is in common unity, there is real community. It’s hard at times dealing with it, though, but I would never change it for the world. Being relational is never easy, no matter how much you love the person/people, etc. It’s difficult and rewarding. The community (common + unity) that I’m in currently is shifting and changing - I feel myself drifting into new communities and back to old ones. It’s a good thing.

I’ve said a lot, too much, too little or just enough. Hopefully just enough.

-lauren