As an artist, inspiration is my drug.
It flows through my lens, is absorbed with my eyes, and enters my brain as if administered by an intravenous needle. My body tingles and an uncontrollable grin spreads across my face. I release strange sounds of excitement, overwhelmed with the feeling of getting that perfect shot.
For me, the initial high of that shot is not about fulfilling any expectations of the viewer. Rather, it is about capturing the exact spirit of my moment.
I used to struggle with considering myself an artist. Anyone can take a photo, everyone has a camera.
It’s not the paintbrush that creates the painting, right?
“Artist” seemed like a title that should only be bestowed on the worthy. Was I worthy? Of course, my friends and family would always be there to support me. Though, I felt I needed validation beyond that.
I studied the works of those farther along in the craft than me. I would strive to be as good as them. After endlessly seeking approval from my more developed peers, I came to the most basic of conclusions.
The validation I sought was my own.
As long as I believed it, it was real. Being an artist is a state of mind. Allowing the world to enter my thoughts in creative ways.
For me, it’s feeling that inspiration from a pebble resting in sand, the sound of a child laughing, a smell that passes through my senses, or a beam of light that catches my eye.
Everything I see becomes light and shapes.
It’s looking through the lens and allowing that high to take me over. Without opening myself up to see, it’s just a snapshot. It’s when I allow the drug to enter my mind, when my art is created.
The art is mine, it’s my emotion, it’s my moment.
If I am able to elicit an emotion from the viewer, it just keeps the high going that much longer.
Right now, my inspiration comes from being here on this remote Isola del Giglio in the Mediterranean Sea. It’s witnessing my children in a state of bliss and having the power to capture that emotion in a frozen image. When I see the photograph, it isn’t my child’s emotion that I feel, but rather my own.
Ultimately, it is I, the mother, who feels the emotion of the moment, knowing what courage it took for him to finally jump off that rock.
As his mother, it is I who knows just how much that uninhibited smile really means.
As her mother, it is I that caught her lost in that moment of thought, wishing I could crawl inside of her head to see just what she was thinking.
It is I, the artist, who was able to sustain that emotion in my image.
As the viewer, it is you who I hope will find some connection to your own life, bringing out an emotion of your own.
I often find myself staring at a photograph, taking a little bit longer in the editing process, just to get a little piece of that high back. That feeling of euphoria I felt with a simple sound of a click.
What are your thoughts?
Did you enjoy this post? My guess is that you will enjoy this one too. Are You Living an Extraordinary Life?