Bed and Blog: resting while working, the modern woman’s answer!

Right, no posts for a while now. Life somehow always gets in the way of doing nothing…. then again, who’d want to do nothing?? Having said this however, this was my aim today but I’m failing miserably. Maybe just one point for me though, as I’m writing this post in bed! Gotta love a laptop!

Anyway, it’s all happening at once. I’ve recently submitted a grant to ArtsACT to fund the costs for mounting my work in Sydney, the date of which is fast approaching (I am sort of panic stricken, if you must know – but very excited at what this opportunity could also yield!). I hope to hell that the grant pulls through otherwise it’s up the proverbial creek without a paddle. I should know in a few weeks.

It’s been an interesting process to watch from above myself but also to experience, deciding how I want to exhibit the work and of course which images to use. Naturally I will be running around right up to the very end making new images, so God knows what I’m going to end up with. So long as it’s not a dogs breakfast I’m sure it’ll be OK. (I’m honestly trying to convince myself of this! You know the Little Engine’s mantra “I think I can, I think I can…”)

At least I’m not the only person out there who has insecurities about their work. Even David Alan Harvey, Magnum photographer extraordinaire has admitted to a few of his own. What I like about him though is that he keeps going and doesn’t get too self-absorbed in such worries… it’s simply part of the creative process. Take a look at his blogs – he has 4, just follow the links – all worth a read. Plus he seems to me a great mentor, a trait no doubt picked up by Magnum as his recent appointment to their Education Development program attests. I’d love to see more of this sort of thing in Australia.

And because my battery is about to run out here are a couple of recent pics for you (the second image will be included as 1 of 12 in my show in Sydney – yep, it’s gone from 6 to 12!! Eek! But, I know this is good….).

A Steiner Family

Little Sisters

 

Seachange

Well, I’m a little bored with my own (dis)abilities when it comes to blogging and web-design. However, I’m persevering and getting there (with a little help from my friends of course!). Eventually I’ll have this blog nicely integrated into my website but for now folks, I’ve simply done a furniture shift and changed the theme. If only I was nerdier (or more patient rather) I could make a good go of tinkering with the engine, but sheesh, all that HTML code is enough to make one throw their precious Mac laptops to the winds!

Despite my obvious frustrations, I have re-jigged parts of my website to now include some groovy little flash slideshows – nothing too annoying don’t worry. Just some simple albums from Jalbum, a free software program that makes nifty little photos shows. Check it out.

Somewhere along my cybertravels I also came across this groovy photography e-mag called SeeSaw Magazine. I’m really loving these finds – it’s sort of like an easter egg hunt only better! It’s reassuring to see this proliferation despite it’s softcopy nature, particularly when the likes of Dirk Halstead are proclaiming the end of still cameras in the next 15 years (well for photojournalists at least)!! How depressing. I couldn’t use a video camera if my life depended on it!

Sticking to still things, here is a photograph to appreciate (Chandler was a finalist in the Jen Bekman Summer 07 Hot Shots comp in NYC):

Scott Chandler
from the Funeral Home Series

One of the winners of the actual competition is a photographer called Rachel Dunville. She wrote the following artist statement as part of her submission. I think it’s quite beautiful and really captures the essence of the exchange between the photographer and the photographed when making a portrait:

There is a distinct and profound pleasure in making portraits. I approach the transaction of making a photograph of and with another person as an intuitive, magical exchange; a subtle seduction between willing participants.
With striking impunity, the people I photograph can look straight into the camera, and therefore, straight into me. What is unveiled in this hushed interface is a distilled state of emotional undress; the honest curiosity to explore the conditions of looking into someone becomes something sacred and intense. We blush.