I’m a bad auntie! My beautiful niece came into the world a month and a few days ago and I meant to post this earlier but finals took me away from the internets! My bad! 
(the good thing is, during the holiday I got to shoot a few more photos of her. I’m sure her parents will love that!)
More photos to come! She’s such a great baby and my nephew is such a good big brother!
A few years ago, a friend asked me to photograph her wedding. I remember how nervous I was, how I planned almost a year in advance with her, getting advice from many mentors along the way, and praying that I’d be able to provide images for her that would last a lifetime. Prayer, prayer prayer, and lots of prayer. That day, I felt like adrenaline, and good feelings, and especially love kept me going. I didn’t even feel exhausted when the evening ended. To this day, I still feel that way. When my equipment’s packed up and I’m hugging the bride and groom and wishing them well on their honeymoon. Love keeps me going.
Truth be told, weddings are my favorite moment in life to photograph. I get to meet such amazing couples, hear their story, and get challenged to document their love story. No two stories are alike.
I always pray before I get out of the car and lug my equipment to where the bride is getting ready, that I will be able to use a talent that God has blessed me with, to help the couple always remember their day. Prayer, prayer, prayer, and more prayer.
Here are some of my favorites along the journey…
Click here if you can’t see
There’s a saying I believe in: if you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life. My ‘work’ has been a journey of love stories. Love keeps me going. My only hope is that the journey continues. Prayerfully, of course.
There are too many happy moments in our lives, fueled by love, to dwell on the less than savory ones.
I hope love keeps you all going as well.
It is sometimes difficult to write from a place of grief, so instead I will write from a place where the memories are still as visceral, but definitely not somber.
My earliest memory ever involved Uncle Robert. I don’t remember exactly how old I was. Definitely not old enough to form explicit memories, for all of you Psych nerds out there, and I am amazed at how vivid this memory is.
I remember crawling, unable to walk, across a dark carpet in a blue terry onesie, with a Winnie-the-Pooh appliqué sewn on the chest. He used to live with my family, and I remember being curious about what went on in his room, this big tall man that looked like my Daddy but not quite. I would crawl to his door, and peek underneath the crack, aching to see what was going on. Often times, I would see his feet in his shoes, shuffling about, and then sometimes I’d see nothing. Sometimes, I would stick my little fingers underneath the doorjamb and wiggle them, because well, that’s what babies do.
One fateful day, my peeking adventures came to an end. I saw the shoes (always polished, always clean shoes), coming towards the door. Perhaps in my baby mind, I didn’t yet know to back away. The door suddenly swung open, and I looked up to see a towering figure, with a face like my Daddy’s, and beady eyes staring down at me. A voice boomed ‘WHATAREYOUDOINNNNNNNNG?” with a huge grin and thunderous laughter. Terrified, I scurried away as fast as I could crawl to my parents, who in turn laughed at me.
In later years, Uncle Robert was nomadic, but a constant presence in our lives, if that makes sense. He would call a day or so in advance, and show up on our doorstep. He always rode in style, be it a tattered Lincoln, or a beat up Cutlass. Sure, the leather seats were worn well, a few dusty Bibles sat on the back dash, and a cluster of tattered and faded air fresheners dangled from the rearview mirror, but his vehicle of choice was always clean. Uncle Robert always was a sharp dresser. His pants were creased to break at the top of his polished shoes. He always wore a hat, usually a fedora with the black ribbon, tilted to the side, and aviator shades or sunglasses with amber lenses. He was sharp, undoubtedly sharp, the birth, life, and legacy of the cool.
He and my father shared such a deep bond. Without getting into too much detail, my father and uncle left home at a very early age, but they were always together. My uncle always looked out for his baby brother. Even miles apart, sometimes continents apart, my uncle found a way to keep in touch with all of his siblings. To this day, this is how my extended family communicates. Uncle Robert had a knack for calling at odd hours of the morning, and playing a musical intro (presumably some Otis Redding, or Sam Cooke), before saying his hellos.
My uncle was not a perfect man. But what I think struck me, and I’m sure, many others in my family was that he was unapologetic for who he was. He was the definition of being genuine.
A week ago, God called him home. When my dad called me to deliver the news, I could not process it. It was finals week, I was in my usual form (attached at the hip to the large format printer), and I could not process it. He had called my dad a few days before, and said he was ready to go. He had made his peace with JC.
It is hard to imagine someone with such a presence, such a personality, not being around anymore to teach you things, to make you laugh, but I’m so thankful, for the memories, of him. Uncle Robert always wanted a family reunion to happen, and although it was in the shadow of such a somber occasion (for us, because I know he is with God), he got what he wanted. My father, brother, and I flew to Belleville, right outside of St. Louis, and had an amazing time. We met so many members of our extended family and laughed, laughed so hard until our bellies ached, as we all remembered Robert James Hawthorne. And oh, how his presence is indelible in so many of our memories. That’s how you celebrate a life. He was the birth, life, and legacy of the cool.
Uncle Robert, Uncle Tiny, Uncle T, will be missed on this earth, but I know where he’s gone, and I find comfort in that.
Wow where to begin?
Yesterday I got the opportunity to have my work in a group show, curated by Keith “Kebo” Brown and Dr. Karen Hennessey, and it was an amazing experience! I chatted with the most interesting people and I got a good response to my work which gives me the warm fuzzies when I think about it! I am incredibly humbled by everyone that came out to support emerging artists, it really means the world to us!
Along with my work, the show featured the work of:
David Huff
Esteban Patino
I didn’t take that many photographs last night, but here’s one (yes, ONE LOL) but I’ll probably have a link to more photographs in a few days or so. You can view the photographs that were featured in the show here.
I didn’t want to be That Artist who was snapping photographs at her own show (though I thought about it!).
I want to thank K2 (Kebo and Karen) for allowing me this opportunity! And their little dog too
Last weekend, I got to participate in the 2nd annual Worldwide Photowalk! That’s right, photographers all over the world convened on June 18 and walked, talked, laughed and photographed (Ha! Rhymed!). We got to shoot in Atlantic Station, which is a big deal because they NEVER allow cameras there (well…I guess if you live there, you’re allowed). Here are some of my favorite shots from that night:
While I was hanging out and shooting with a friend of mine, I made another two friends! Bella, an aspiring model and her photographer, David Sincere.
I think Bella will do just fine in modeling, she’s very pretty and was fierce in front of the camera.
I think these look like chess pieces!
Later that night, we set up our tripods and did a few long exposures. Both of these are quick edits, as I have a grillion dust spots on my sensor. No really, like a grillion
I had a really good time and want to thank SCAD’s own Judith Pishnery for being an excellent organizer
***
Oh yeah! Forgot to add! Duh! I recently launched my art website, and you can check it out here! Don’t laugh at my middle name, it’s my Mami’s first name (and my first is her middle name, creative, I know!). More about that in a day or so
When I was younger, my Abuela (we all called her Mamá Angelica, and I called her Mamá for short) watched over me during the summers from when I was about 4 through elementary school (I was a pre-school dropout, it wasn’t for me), and I can say hands-down, that some of my fondest childhood memories were with her. She didn’t speak much English, so it kept my Spanish sharp, and we had many an adventure those years. The last time I saw her was when I was about 12 or 13, and I was hoping that I’d one day get to go to El Salvador with my mom and visit her there.
Some of you who know me know that I also write (wrote! will write again!?) poetry. It’s been a battle trying to find the balance between the lens and the pen. My pages are usually left blank, because I’ve put so much focus on photography.
Until recently. A few months ago, I was moved to write this poem after a conversation with Mami:
It was you who first split my tongue
Blew smells of el campo into my nostrils
Pupusa, arroz con frijoles,
pepino, calabacín, elote, zanahoria, nopalito
Sopa de pescado, el gran ojo mirandome
Swimming among alphabet pasta
Me he despertado unas mañanas
Las mejillas mojadas con lástimas
Pensando que me ha dejado
Tortillas resting oiled griddle form burn birthmarks
like liver spots adorning your hands
flattening that very maseca into perfection
Tamed abursho into escova, then trenzas
Delantal catching my tears as the
comb wove its way through my tangles
me wondering
why my hair could not flow
like your silver river
Me he despertado unas mañanas
Las mejillas mojadas con lástimas
Pensando que me ha dejado
Radio Ah-Eh-meh 640 crackling
Alabanzas warbling from your throat
Smelling of Lísterina, that’s how I thought
God smelled
You affixing a velo on my head,
Bobby pins resting on the shelf of your pursed lips
Entrusting me with a pandereta during worship hour
Translating in the grocery store, 5 and on tiptoe
holding fast to check writing stand
Making eye contact with the cashier
Mama el cajero necesita veinte centavos
Isopropyl alcohol sweating your wrinkled belly
Worn from births, soft like velvet
Into it you sank insulin needles
I mirrored your wincing
The blood teardrop leaking onto the test paper
How I’ve inherited the shape of your fingers
And toes
and love for sweets
and heavy shuffle
Con o sin chancleta
Me he despertado unas mañanas
Las mejillas mojadas con lástimas
Pensando que me ha dejado
Mami says you have fallen
And your old bones cannot knit themselves well
You have refused food and drink
And I refuse to see you this way
Me he despertado unas mañanas
Las mejillas mojadas con lástimas
Pensando que me ha dejado
But I know it’s your mouth
forming besos instead.
–
Sunday, my father called me and informed me that Mamá Angelica passed peacefully in her sleep earlier that morning. And while I know that she is no longer with us on earth and my heart is a little heavy, I’ve made peace with the fact that her body will no longer be in pain. I’m glad that I got a chance to know her while she was around, and finally, I’m certain that she’s still here with us all.
Te amo Mamá.
(I have no idea why I have that expression on my face LOL)
Hello! I’m back again!
As you can see, I need a clone. Or maybe a small child that’s proficient in CS3 and Lightroom that I can pay in cookies (that’s not child labor, is it?)
All jokes aside I’ve been extremely busy wrapped up in several projects! One, being a documentary project on Egbe Alaje, THEEEE coolest Afro-Cuban dance class in Atlanta, which is held every Thursday at the D.A.I.R. Project. I’ve gotten to know some fabulous individuals– of course, Charisse, whom I’ve followed from DC to ATL , Sekou Alaje, the ridiculously talented lead drummer, and alllll the gorgeous, graceful dancers and other talented drummers who come and participate. I’ve learned so much about the significance of Yoruba/Afro-Cuban dance and drumming, and preserving the culture and history of the Diaspora in general, and I’m grateful that Charisse and Sekou have allowed me to document their class!
And of course, what’s a blog post without photos!? Yesterday was their 1 year anniversary in Atlanta, and because my professor LOVES to make me work really extra hard and think outside the box, go where I’ve never gone before, and try studio lighting outside of the studio and make me put away one of my favorite prime lenses (the 50mm 1.4, LOVE!), here are some of my results!
And of course, this is a to be continued, because I’m still shooting this project and have LOTS more goodies on my hard drive!
Again, THANK YOU to Charisse and Sekou and the members of Egbe Alaje for allowing me up to be all up in your face with a camera!
Hey hey hey!
Yes…again I’ve been lax on the blog updates. So here are some updates on arty stuff that I think is cool and maybe you will too:
For folks in the Atlanta area, check out Heidi Aishman‘s solo exhibition “You Can’t Win That!’, it’s up for 3 MORE DAYS! at Gallery Stokes.
I recently did an interview on the Dodge and Burn blog! Woot! And check out some of the other interviews on there, it’s a really cool resource for photographers!
Next week one of my photographs will be in a group show at SCAD’s Silver and Ink exhibition next week at the River Club on the Savannah campus.
Ummmm right now…the photograph is framed and chillin in the trunk of my car, but by tomorrow hopefully I will change that! Annnnd if I can somehow clone myself I will be at the group show too! Yay!
I just finished my first grant proposal! It’s been a long three weeks of editing and re-editing and re-wording and worrying, and if things don’t pan out, you know what? I’m grateful for all that I learned in the process. It definitely will help me be less worried about the next submission
Oh and what’s a blog post without a photograph? I shot this after we had some rough storms surge through the area. It was almost midnight. Wish I brought a tripod because it was a bit breezy where I was shooting. Doesn’t the sky look like you could rest your cheek against it?
Hey there! So…I’m in the airport and I’d figure I’d share some of the stuff I did this week. I miss home, but I’m glad to be going back to Atlanta!
Of course, I hung out with this guy:
Watched my brother and father partake in some friendly pool competition:
Read a book on the Metro:
Learned that patrons gotta use faith:
Hirshhorned:
Got to meet Chance and Laurence for the first time (and again, in May! So excited!)
And hung out with an awesome couple yesterday!
More to come! Bout to board my plane!
Believe it or not…school has me so busy that I haven’t had time to shoot for myself! Amazing, right?
When I’m not in class, I live in the library, and when I’m not in the library, I’m in the darkroom. Or sleeping. Not really sleeping that much though
No complaints though; this is the first time I’m in a program where I’m truly excited about going to class, and I really look forward to learning about everything that we discuss. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my time at Howard, but I really REALLY loved my electives and running around campus with a camera around my neck a teensy bit more
Right now, I’m taking a Contemporary Art class and it’s refreshing to read about the artists whose work I’ve seen in the Hirshhorn when we lived up north. Somewhere on a hard drive are photos from the Hirshhorn I never got around to posting here; when I’m back in the DC/Metro area, I’ll definitely pay a visit
So I’ve gotten a handful of Wandering shots since we’ve been here on digital. As soon as I figure out the monster that is the film scanner I’ll post some of my shots from my large format class (no, really, it looks like something out of the Jetsons and I am afraid I’ll do something bad, like break it and have to promise my first born to offset the replacement cost).
Here’s one of the few:
And here’s one from today. My assignment for Large Format was to find a large format photographer whose work I admire and try to interpret some of their work in my own photos. Josef Sudek has this beautiful photograph of an egg on a plate (I can’t find a picture of it at the moment), and I tried to set up the shot but um…
…rolled right off the table and smacked against the wall! Luckily, the egg didn’t crack open and make a mess on the carpet, so I shot it as it was, broken but still holding it all together. Kinda symbolic, right?
Oh, and I sustained my first large format camera injury of the quarter! In my last large format class, my hair got caught on the rise and fall controls of the camera (which is why I’ve learned never to rock my curly-fro when shooting!). This time around…my finger (one of the good ones! the right middle…) decided to hang around in a bad part of the tripod and it got smushed, and it hurt so bad I yelped from under the dark cloth, and now I’m freaking out about it turning a different color! I guess things could have been worse…I could have caught my hair AND smashed my finger…:) How we suffer for our art, right?
And nope…I haven’t taken the obligatory city skyline night shot. Hopefully I can come up for air this week and get a chance to!