My Journey.. Then and Now

Hey, I was thinking... about how much I've changed... especially since highschool. I had a whole different set of priorities then than I do now. I have one particular epic remembrance of that particular period of my life, like a tomb, an artifact, a chronological exploration of the teenage mind: My sketchbook.

Oh, it's funny. And sad. And scary. And oh so angsty. I *remember* FEELING so intensely, and being drawn to that power, the turbulence, the angry little art kid. I remember being so cerebral and talking in really abstract ways about my Art. I remember searching for and imbibing what I thought was MEANING to the chaos that is a teenage girl with the power of an imagination onto paper and bits of this and that and whatever else I was molding to try to SPEAK. Some of what I created was brilliant. ALOT of it was crap. And I look at it now and try to imagine how all those art teachers and other art creatures I encountered took it all so SERIOUSLY and how they didn't literally burst into tears LAUGHING at the ridiculousness.

And it does have a certain longing. To have the time and energy to create such ambiguous but potent things, to explore and allow creativity to leak into everything you see, making paintings and portraits and sculptures and frenetic beauty in everything you see. Not that I'm not able to look through that eye now, I just don't have the energy to carry it out. There's a certain freedom in that sort of experimentation that allows people to think that the most mundane of things is considered Art. That says that angsty teenager doesn't have to grow up. That says that you can chase your Bliss. Whatever.

Now I realize that my Bliss is a tiny body snuggled under my chin, draped around me in an embrace and just happy to be molded to me in that moment. Those enormous blue liquid pools framed in spider-leg thick, long lashes looking at me with unadulterated trust. A set of voluptuous (thanks to his Daddy), full, puffy lips making a miniature mushroom cloud in an imitation of a kiss leaning towards me waiting for me to mush my lips on his and get a sloppy wet kiss. White and golden blond hair and perfect fat little fingers on adorable chubby hands and rolls behind knees and pinchable round cheeks with the perfect little nose. Ticklish ribs and thighs, a rolling, pealing laughter and the look that it puts on his face. That is mine. I created that, from love, and trust, and it's perfect. That's my bliss.

I am a mommy.

And I have a Nikon D80. I have the ability to produce incredible, beautiful photography and the ability to edit said pictures in such a way that amazes people who find out I have absolutely no editing training (and, in some ways unfortunately, gives them a false sense of trust thinking I can do more that I currently know how) and only fundamental photographic training. I can sculpt and draw and paint passably (I never was great, but I can fake it decently).

But what's really more important to me now is that snuggly, whiney, stubborn, brilliant little boy snuggled under my chin. And the baby growing by leaps and bounds inside me. And that's almost shocking to me. Because I'm not that angsty teenager anymore. I'm a grown woman with a growing family and a whole new set of worries and thoughts and triumphs.

And my photography is now all about capturing and finessing and refining true, natural beauty. I love portraits and that's now what I do best. I love finding what's TRULY beautiful about a person and making sure EVERYONE else sees it. I've long said it's hard (if not impossible) for me to take a picture of someone I didn't love or at least LIKE because I have to have something I like about a person to take a picture of it. Or to bring it out in the editing process. But that's okay. I got my first, original digital camera with the main reason being that developing the zillions of pictures I would inevitably take of my future children would be astronomically expensive and completely prohibitive. So my pictures are about that moment in time that shows the essence of my subject. Even if it's just a snapshot.

And that's me now. Maybe I'll develop more as an artist and actually learn some real skills (I do need a minor for my Bachelor's, after all) but first and foremost I do what I do now NOT to give it some existential meaning, but to capture the life around me. And I'm okay with not being completely engrossed and enthralled by the darkness that was so important to me just a few short years ago. It can still be an aspect of my personality, but not the most important part. Wanna know why?

'Cause I'm a mommy. And that makes me happy. =)

Jennifer Glass
5-1-08