Mine

Every time I log in here, I'm always shocked that there are even more visitors than there was the last time I posted, because honestly, I've been crazy busy and I know I've been like that annoying girlfriend you had in high school who you only really saw when she wasn't in a relationship, because the minute she'd get a boyfriend, she'd disappear and you'd kind of forget what she looked like for a while.

That was rambling and a little incoherent, but I'm sorry I've neglected you for a new boyfriend, dear readers.

Things have been a little hectic.  I got into this photography thing thinking Who in the world is going to pay me money for this?  Aren't there photographers on, like, every corner now?, and it turns out that yes, there are photographers on every corner, but it's still pretty hard to be a good one, so the demand is more than one would think.  There's a fair possibility that my recent craziness will die down in a few months when I'm no longer the new girl, but for now it's all weddings-and-seniors-and-homecoming-and-bright-shiny-new-lenses-oh-my!

It's been a lot of fun playing and learning and metamorphosing - I've gotten very lucky in finding some great people and opportunities along the way.

One thing about this photography thing, though, is that you tend to take fewer photos of your own life, while you're so busy capturing everyone else's.  I'm not sure if it's lack of time, or perfectionism (grainy Instagram snaps make me shudder now.  SHUDDER, I SAY), but my kids--who were the instigation for all of this lunacy--are now logging fewer and fewer hours in front of my camera.  Using a photo challenge as an excuse tonight, though, I managed to sneak in some snaps of them.

Since implementing an eye contact protocol at the age of two, little C has been relatively good at making (and maintaining) eye contact, for the most part.  When I got my camera, though, I began to notice that the camera's eye was somehow more intimidating than the human one.  He is game, upon prompting, for squinting, saying cheese, and baring his teeth for me...but that's about all that I get.  Maybe part of the reason I don't take as many photos of the two of them is that I dread being forced to face how difficult photos still are for Little C.  After two or three clicks of the shutter, he inevitably declares, "No more pictures, okay?"

It's not really a request, but he has the tact to frame it as one, at least.

For the photo challenge "Eyes" tonight, I couldn't help but be struck by the juxtaposition of my two children.  For one, attention is a natural attraction.  He craves it--is on a constant, inexhaustible quest for it.  Positive, negative, doesn't matter.  Look at me, look at me! is proclaimed in every skip of his feet, every flashing grin.

Little C, though, wants to do his own thing - Things to do, Mom, things to do.  The camera comes out, and while Big C is leaping in front of it, Little C retreats...and my heart breaks a little.  It's a constant balancing act between stretching his boundaries, and respecting his need to feel comfortable in his own home, for me.  In the end, I get photos of him doing what he does--and these are the images I'll have in my head for years to come, anyway.  He is happy here--working hard all day to make the progress he has, I tell myself he deserves to kick back with his iPad and run from the camera when he gets home, dammit.

I guess a photo of my baby's big, beautiful green eyes is going to remain sort of my great white whale for a while, though.

“It is not down on any map; true places never are.” 

― Herman Melville, Moby-Dick; or, The Whale

Home Again, Home Again

As excited as I get about how this photography thing seems to be working out for me, now and again I have a moment that grounds me a bit, and reminds me why I really pick up my camera as often as I do.

You know how when you get a diagnosis, you go through all of those stages of denial, and you start listing all of the reasons he couldn't be autistic to make yourself feel like there is absolutely nothing wrong here?  And then, as you start reading things and meeting other people who deal with the same issues that you do, things start clicking and you're left staring numbly into space because you start realizing that all of the "little" things that you've brushed off for so long actually mean something, and then you feel horribly guilty about everything and you should have known all along?

Just me?

(Nope.  Pretty sure it's not just me.)

Photos were one of those click-y things for me.  Little C's eye contact, when evaluated by therapists, flunked the test--but not horribly so.  With patience and therapy, it came around, and he started really looking at us--checking our reactions when an unexpected situation arose, smiling at us when we'd pick him up at the end of the day.

Photos were something weird, though.  When I was taking snapshots of him, I never noticed that he didn't look at the camera.  It was only after our diagnosis that I became stunned, looking through photo after photo taken since his birth, and ached--because I had an album full of photos with his face turned away, or down, or with him giving me his back.  He was included in one memorable Christmas photo only because the techs at the local studio Photoshopped him in.

They had to snap a picture of him while in my arms, hands planted firmly over his ears.

Since I picked up my "big girl" camera for the first time, I've been attempting to get really memorable photos of him.  While he is comfortable around my camera, he's still not overly enthusiastic about looking into the lens for me.  His eyes dart up and down, left and right, and while I know that if I set up a protocol for him--set parameters for success, and all of that--I could probably get him to smile and say cheese...I don't really want to.

While it still kind of breaks my heart a little bit to see the contrast of his brother dancing a jig and shooting a cheesy grin at me the second my lens cap comes off, I know that that's just not him.  The prospect of forcing it feels wrong, and in the end, I don't want an awkward pose and forced smile out of him.

This weekend, though, I got what I hadn't been able to quite place my finger on.  I got what I had wanted to capture, without having quite the words for it.

This is him.  Pure, unadulterated him.  Face forward, full-on grin in all it's breathtaking glory, captured forever in twenty glorious megapixels on a camera that is proving to be one of the best purchases ever made for me.

You just don't get this kinda stuff on a smart phone.

Updates Galore

The past few weeks have seen me turn into a crazy woman, trying to get this photography thing off of the ground.  Shockingly, it's going pretty well.  You can now find me on Facebook, and on my website.

I know, right?

There's still a lot of work to be done all around, but I must say that I've kinda surprised myself with this one. I really enjoy doing this, and other people seem to find my services appealing...at least so far.

I'm not killing myself over it at this point--no plans to quit my illustrious day-job, or anything.  If the market turns out to be too saturated in my area, or my particular skills just not enough in demand, I'm okay with not getting big paydays out of this.  It's rewarding enough on a personal level that I just love doing it, and that's enough for me.

I hope this is okay to share, but this is a photo that sort of encapsulates what this whole thing has been meaning to me.  The special needs event I photographed a few weeks back affected me in a lot of ways, but I just keep remembering this kid.

Let's call him A, hmmm?

His mom is an incredible woman, who does a lot of great things for a lot of people.  Photography is his passion, and he spent the greater part of this event wheeling after people with his camera, snapping away.  He and his mom are one facet of disability--unique, like all of the others, and one that many may not get the chance to see.  

I only spent a short amount of time with A, but it was enough to convince me that he was not the type to feel sorry for himself, or let anything stop him from doing the things he wanted to do. I love, LOVE that attitude--the Move-Or-Get-Run-Over outlook.  

He had things to do, places to go.  Who cares about a little old wheelchair?

I'm enjoying portraits, and kids, and bridals, and landscapes--but people like A are what really fascinate me.  I wish more people would have the outlook on life that this kid did in the scant thirty minutes I spent with him.  I want to take photos that make people see the camera and the passion first for people like A--and see the wheelchair as just an accessory.

Weddings are HARD, y'all

Whew.  My first wedding as a photographer is DONE.  Well, sort of.  There's another round of editing to be done before the final photo delivery, but I have now shot bridal photos, couples photos, macro shots, "getting ready" shots, ceremony shots and reception shots.  ALL IN THE SAME DAY.  Then, I went home and edited for what seemed like an ETERNITY.

I got some REALLY great stuff, and I was so excited to do this.  It went as well as could possibly be expected--the "first" shooter and I worked well together, the couple was super fun, and the bride had not one bride-zilla moment.

But y'all, I am TIRED.  Even though this wedding was on the small side, it turns out you still have to take the same shots of the main events that you would at a larger wedding, just while covering (slightly) less ground.

I know, right?

I even got paid, even though the money has already been spent on (more) equipment.  It's so much fun doing something so personally fulfilling, and I can't WAIT for the bride to see the photos!

Now, time for a little break.  I'm about one Photoshop layer away from going cross-eyed.

A Few Updates

Strap in, folks.  This is gonna be a little schizophrenic (I know.  Contain your shock, K?)

1) The "1 in 50" Parenting project has been sidelined, perhaps permanently.  I got a letter from the editor last week, announcing that the company had been bought out by a rival, and the magazine would be discontinuing publication after their July issue.  Aside from my initial disappointment at my article going *poof*, I really was pretty saddened by all of this.  This was a great company, with editors who had been kind and encouraging during my interactions with them, and with employees that had apparently all been given very little notice before being let go.  Yet another casualty of the digital age, I supposed, but a sad one.

2) Facebook is an even bigger @sshole than I thought.  Not only will it still not allow me to create a business page, it's locked down my personal account because it's pissed at me for trying too many times to create a business page.  I now have limited Facebook access for the next 30-days.

3) I refused to accept did not realize how addicted I was to Facebook until said lock-down.  It has not been a pleasant 24-hours.

4) Google+, however: Not an @sshole.  I was able to create a business page there with almost zero effort.

5) I kinda <3 Google+.  It's much easier to navigate and interact with, and the photos are gorgeous compared to Facebook's compression-riddled mess.  It is, however, still kind of a ghost town.  But, my page gets prioritized search results, so there's that.

6) 48 hours of working on logos and watermarks makes me realize that graphic arts designers earn every penny that they make.

7) I need a website.  No, strike that, I need someone to make a website for me.  I've just dipped a toe in this overwhelming pool thus far, but I am already feeling extremely ill-prepared for this.  I haven't touched HTML since the days of Geocities.

GEOCITIES, folks.

8) Bubbly, effusive, grateful moms of kids you've photographed are the best.  I recommend that everyone get one, really.  Huge morale booster.

9) I've discovered the "scheduled post" option in Blogger.  Something happened with Little C tonight that I want to blog about, but I don't want to include it in this schizophrenic mess, so I'm going to employ this new button I've discovered.  This means you'll get another post from me this week, in a much more coherent format.   So, um, yay?

  Schizophrenic me, signing off.

Presto Change-O

So.  I am tired, y'all.  The good kind of tired, mind you, but damned tired.

I had my first official photo session yesterday, and I got paid for it.

Shocking, right?

I've come to the conclusion that I'm apparently incapable of going at anything at less than the speed of obsession.  Seriously, who knows if I'll end up being a whole lot of good at this photography thing, but damned if I'm not gonna know every nook and cranny of it eventually.  At least in theory--putting theory into practice is a different animal all together.

I put it out into Facebook land a few weeks ago that I needed guinea pigs.  You know, the hapless, furry and defenseless little creatures previously used for lab experiments before PETA got all huffy?

Yeah, those.  (DISCLAIMER: I LOVE GUINEA PIGS.  PLEASE DON'T THROW PAINT AT ME, PETA).

Anyway, it seems that people are perfectly willing to be hapless guinea pigs, if the price for being such is free.  I was flabbergasted, really.  Facebook comments and messages started coming in from people I barely remembered I knew, and I was all, "Are you sure?  I mean, I'm new at this.  And by 'I'm new' I mean 'Please don't get made at me if I screw up your pictures, K?'"

And then the people that said they wanted me to take pictures for them actually scheduled sessions with me.

I kinda thought they were bluffing, really.

So the first session was "booked" and as soon as I got over the giddiness of "booking" and me in the same sentence, I was all Joe Photographer.  Seriously, I went out there with my bag, and my light stand, and my off camera strobes...and then as soon as the guy showed up, I promptly forgot how to use all of the things.

All of them.  Except the point and shoot camera-thingee, so we actually ended up getting some pretty good photos.  Even if I did try to blind the poor guy with my reflector at one point.

Oh well, I'm sure his LinkedIn profile is very GQ, now.  Plus, there was last minute Mexican food afterward with a friend/stuff holder, so: WIN!

Then came the magical engagement session.  Well, "engagement session" is probably a bit glorified, since it was initially booked as a regular I'll-stand-still-and-let-you-take-my-picture session, but then the girl got engaged, so then it turned into a I'm-so-excited-about-my-new-ring session.

I planned, I Pinterest-ed, I packed a (little) lighter for this one...and forgot to check the weather.  So we ended up eventually arriving on location (which, incidentally, have I mentioned that I have no sense of direction?  Apparently this is important for finding the locations you would like to use for shoots), shortly before a monster lightning storm.  As in, I looked up at one point, and this chick's hair was standing literally straight on end.

At which point we decided that Hey, maybe we can take shots of the ring INDOORS!

Which we did.  And I got some hella nice macro shots out of it.

So if I were to tell you at the beginning of this week that I had one adult male who acts like he's been modeling all his life, one up-for-anything adult female with an exciting recent life event, and a family of five, including three kids under ten, one of which was a baby lined up...which of these would you have said were going to go down the proverbial drain?

Yeah, I had pretty much guessed the kids, too.

But wait, there's more!

This wasn't just any family, folks.  These were some of the most laid back parents ever, and the cutest and most cooperative kids--together in one absolutely beautiful location.

I'm almost kinda mad at them now, because really, they're setting me up for failure on my next session.  It's not at all reasonable to expect that kind of experience to ever happen again.

They were cute.  They mugged.  They stood still when I asked them to, Glory to God.

What the hell?  My own kids don't do that.  Ever.

(Okay, fine.  The cuteness and the mugging happen from time to time.  Mostly when other people are looking.)

Anyway--I had fun, the family had fun, I [mostly] remembered how to work my camera, and the dad insisted on paying me for what I had offered as a free, experience-building session, just based on what he saw on my camera's LCD screen.  And I've got at least one referral already lined up from them, and the dad wants my card to pass around.

I DON'T EVEN HAVE CARDS, Y'ALL.

What I do have now, however, is a logo.  A logo created with excruciatingly poor Photoshop skills, while brainstorming with a friend over Facebook, and in between editing photos in Lightroom.

BAM. 

It looks like I'm totally good at this, right?

I sure hope so, at least, because in the next two weeks, I've got one [thankfully small and informal] wedding to second-shoot, one special-needs water-park/luau event (How the hell does one shoot a water-themed luau? Anyone?), and a horse-therapy center that is supposed to call or email at any time regarding some pro-bono promotional shots.

See?  Full throttle, that's me.

The eventual goal is to get proficient enough to actually do this, and do it well--making my services (such as they may ever be) available to special needs families and organizations as much as possible.  Every time I am able to take a photo of Little C in which he makes good eye contact, or engages the camera with a smile, I am ever so grateful that I have picked up this camera.  Until I did, I hadn't gotten a frame-able shot since before we took him into a studio when he was around eighteen months old.  I can still remember the paint-peeling screams coming out of him at the pop of the strobes, the panic at the attention of the camera-man.  I remember tiny toddler hands clenched so hard to his ears that they were bright red when I tried to pull them away.

The thought of overwhelmed kids in crowded studios, and sad parents with empty picture frames depresses me.  More than that, though, it motivates me.

So.  Bayou Rose Photography for the win, K?

--

PS- I am Cydley99 on Flickr.  Also, the new Flickr is awesome.  Follow me?  Please?

PPS- I will [hopefully soon] have a Facebook business page.  As soon as Facebook stops being an @sshole, anyway, because apparently they think I'm doing something shady and won't let me create a page right now.

STOP BEING AN @SSHOLE, FACEBOOK.

Anyway, follow me at Bayou Rose Photography, eventually?  Please?

PPPS - Given all of the social media mentions in these post scripts, I feel obligated to inform you that I am Cydley on Instagram, although I should probably also warn you that I am extremely boring.  And, I'm not sure that I understand filters.  Or hash tags. Or Instagram.

There.  I'm done.

I'm still alive

According to Blogger, it's been a long time since I've logged in to post.  In fact, I'm pretty sure Google glared at me accusingly after I entered my password.

We have a very complicated relationship, me and Google.  Mostly, Google just runs my life and I'm all, "Okay, fine.  I'LL GO PICK UP THE KIDS, GOOGLE NOW, SHEESH.  I TOTALLY DIDN'T FORGET."

In all fairness, Google (YOU BULLY), I have had a lot on my plate.  I studied like a crazy person (and passed) a third test for work, among other things.  Don't ask me how to calculate a base rate using the pure premium method, because the hell if I know.  Apparently there were more questions on that test that I did understand than ones I just stared at in total bewilderment, so I passed.  Which is totally good enough for me.

I've got to take another one in another two months or so, so look for another bout of abject panic, followed by total blogger silence around that time.  Fair warning.

I've also begun semi-renovating our house, possessed by some mad urge to install new flooring and decorate a little.  You know, since we've been in the house almost six years now, I figured it might be nice for it to look decent, and all.  Apparently hanging things on walls does a lot for aesthetics.

Really, though--we moved into our freshly-built house and had a baby six days later, so decorating was pretty low on the priorities list at that point.  Add in an autism diagnosis a little over two years later, and I was all, "What do we need stuff on the walls for, again?"  Now that I'm not completely consumed with therapy twenty four hours a day, I finally feel relaxed enough to buy a damn picture frame once in a while.

It's a nice feeling, that.

In addition to studying while consuming massive quantities of caffeine, and wandering around Pier One with what is apparently a large blinking "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING" sign over my head, I have also recently become consumed with photography.

I know, right?  I think it's a sickness.  Apparently I'm completely incapable of learning new things like a normal person--I have to eat, sleep and breathe them until I get everything figured out to my satisfaction.  I mean, I'm starting to critique lighting in every random Facebook cellphone picture.  I notice bokeh in commercials.

It's BAD.  And I'm not even halfway decent at it yet.

My first official lesson is tomorrow, after which I will post all of the pictures my instructor frames and sets up for me, and shamelessly take credit for them.

What?  I'm pressing the button, sheesh.

In the mean time, know what else consumes me pretty much totally, in addition to photography?  My kids.  And autism--that fickle bastard that's never far around the corner.  Sometimes (as in the recent crop-up of echolalia that is driving me to the brink), I hate it with a passion.  It leaves me worried, stressed out, and bewildered.

Other times, though?  It's almost beautiful, the symmetry that my child just inherently feels.  I can't find my shoes most mornings (and apparently neither can he), but every single Cars 2 and Thomas the Train toy he has is constantly accounted for.  I'm pretty sure he could give me each one's GPS coordinates, if I asked.

I don't ask, but I am trying to capture this ghostly beauty that autism has brought into our lives.  On the days when I think I'm going to cry if I hear the same string of words come out of his mouth one more time, these few snapshots have been centering me, somehow.

This is what autism looks like in our house.

Cars 2 - Tractor Tipping.  No joke.

Everywhere.  Trains are everywhere in my house.  

Also: BOKEH!

A rare full-on face shot.

Who loves reading about Cars 2?  WE DO!

The troops.  Every last one of them.

Seriously, Memory played the NORMAL way is for suckers.

Lightning McQueen's number is 95.  WHO KNEW?