Lessons from WPPI | Personal Reflection

Well, I did it! I hung with the cool kids for a week. And if you can believe it, I survived. In fact, I more than survived. Or at least, I'd like to think I did. Because not only did I manage to leave with my self-esteem intact, but also took home with me a head full of lessons and thoughts and hopes to fuel this creative life and business.

Well those things, and little sleep to my name. And no, it wasn't because of the parties (I only went to one hosted by Pictage) or because I was out cruising the strip (because it was three days in Vegas before I actually set foot outside the MGM Grand - and that was to get In-n-Out and ride down the strip and back in the car belonging to some new friends... priorities people). It was because the days were long (up at 5:30AM - in bed by midnight) and full of platform classes, waiting in line for the platform classes, browsing the trade show, conversing with old friends and new friends over meals, and a whole lot of walking.

But let me tell you, it was worth it. Because over the course of a couple of days, I had the opportunity to meet and hear from and share with people whose vision for their work just blows me away. And in a place like that, in classes with people like Jesh de Rox, Tamara Lackey, and Dane Sanders, and more - I found myself both affirmed and challenged in the direction my work has been heading and where I want it to continue to go.



Jesh's session, in my opinion, set the tone for what was most crucial to focus on throughout my time at WPPI. And seriously, I doubt I've ever been that engaged - that moved - that inspired at 8AM on a Monday morning in my life. But not in particular by the photographer, but by the person and the heart and the purpose behind what we as photographers have the ability to do in our connections with the lives we touch and take pictures of. Fortunately, my further class choices during the week - for the most part - echoed some of the same concepts with such poignancy that it's all that continues reverberating in my head and heart.

Here's what I need some grace on, though. As I mentioned before, I had intended to share a little more in-depth on each of the major sessions and what was taught, but stopped short today when I remembered you're not all interested in that. And even then, there's just some things about these sessions that don't make full sense when written out in this format. For those of you that are interested, I'd rather connect with you by e-mail or over coffee to really give you the full scope and converse through the predominant elements of the conversation. I will gladly share my notes with anyone who asks for them!

If you're a photographer and you've never been to WPPI, I'd encourage you to go at least once. And not because of Vegas. Or because it's WPPI. But because it's the one opportunity I know of every year where as many photographers as possible make it all to one place to be together - sharing and learning and providing context for the work and lives we live.

And, most importantly, inspiration for the lives we have the potential to change.

New Year's Show-and-Tell | Personal Reflection

I wish pictures were enough.

Granted, sometimes they are, but more often, it's our stories - our interpretations of the context within which those images exist - that bring an added and sometimes necessary touch of life to an image's liveliness. That's why I love the pairing of the two so much. And I don't think that will ever change.

So, class, gather round and consider this my New Year's show-and-tell.

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If I had to show you one thing, one image that represents the coming transition of a new year to me, it would be this one.



If I had to tell you why, I'd start with the surge of both relief and hope that flood my heart every time I see it. And then I'd tell you about all the times that it has nearly brought tears to my eyes. Because this picture, without me knowing it at the time of capture, says everything about who I am becoming and who I want to be - not just as a photographer but as a woman - as a believer, as a mentor, as a friend, and as a wife.

Photographically speaking, it is, of course, the people which have made this year of 2009, this journey into commerce and art, what it is. The tiny babies and darling children, the families who've opened up their homes and hearts to me - honoring me not with their business but with their trust. The couples with whom I have celebrated some of their most important days, thanks to my work with Gray Photography. The joys of those expecting and those marking the passing of time. It will always be the people that make this an incredible joy for me.

I'd be lying, however, if I told you that was enough and that in many ways, I've done both myself and my clients - my new friends - a disservice for the better part of this year. Not because of something I've done wrong, but because of everything I haven't been doing. Those things which this picture inspires me to do - starting with loving and honoring a particular person.

This picture evidently isn't that person. It also isn't some well-known landmark or travel photo. And it's not an award-winning wedding shot with my name imprinted on it. They're just berries. But at the time, they mattered enough for me to stop in the middle of a long hike and see something microscopic in all of the grandeur of an overlook of the Savage Gulf. A simple red berry in the company of blues.

I didn't know quite how much it would matter in the end though, as I've found myself reflecting with the approach of not just a new year, but a new decade. At the core of this image is all of the stuff about identity, worth, simplicity, courage, and beauty within which I hope to relish, in 2010. At the core of it, I see me. And not in a self-centered way, but in a way that recognizes how much I've bashed - belittled - belabored myself on so many levels. How much I have discredited my abilities by being the voice that compares, criticizes, and is careless with my own heart.

And so with 2010, I feel the call to do much with myself. To not bury the treasure. To dig so deeply into the center of who I am that I end up letting go of the needs I have to... control. be perfect. be noticed. be complimented. be... busy. second guess myself. live in fear. To remember, as often as possible, what my (to steal from Coelho) personal legend is. And mostly, to remember that "When you are loved, you can do anything in creation."

I matter. What I do matters. No matter what anyone tells me, either, including myself. Because at the end of the day, I am here and I am loved by Love Himself. And I will always be noticed like a red berry hanging on a stem of blues.

So the gift, then, is calling that truth out in others as I learn to do so in myself.

With, and without, my camera.

Just An Aside

I love how things, in life, can sometimes come together in a way that is almost eerily fantastic. Most of this morning, I've been reflecting on how crazy last night was for the Neeley household. And all because of a website.

I realized this morning that I forgot to mention one of the coolest things about the experiment. It should be stated that in the process of building my site yesterday evening, all of the home page animation was built and timed before a song was even considered.

When Cliff pitched the prospect of placing music (which is, again, just one of the wonderful things about Showit) I toyed around with a variety of options, while he coached encouragingly from the sidelines. So back and forth I went. I'd painstakingly modify a song and embed it, feeling steadily more discouraged that nothing fit.

Four songs into the process, the final one was placed because when it was...

it matched the animation perfectly.

Needless to say, it was chill bumps and bug eyes all around as we sat there stunned. Speechless, actually.

And as ridiculous as someone might think this is, it was confirmation that somehow all of this fits into my greater story. The one where I am riding on faith and seeing pieces brought together in a way that only my God could orchestrate. This isn't just a business - it is a gift.