Welcome to: Uncategorized

Welcome to Uncategorized:

That Wedding Where My Hair Caught on Fire

When I was 6 or 7, I was bestowed the honor of being Flower Girl in my Uncle Charlie’s wedding.

I don’t remember much about the day. It looked enchanting. An elegant garden wedding in NYC.   I am wearing a pretty dress that looks slightly too small, as though I’d grown more than my mom expected. (I believe I paired this ensemble with a hemp necklace my sister had made, bringing a sweet Vermont flavor to this occasion.)

I am the husky gal, front right.

My memories are foggy or nonexistent from this time of my life, I think, as a self-protective measure. Where there are lapses in time, I can sometimes remember a feeling. On my uncle’s wedding day, I felt white hot embarrassment and deep shame.

I often felt embarrassed for behaving like a child, despite being one. I believed I was an adult, and that I was held back by the awkward limbs that betrayed my identity as a growing girl. Or by my naive brain, that didn’t understand the news story my parents discussed at dinner. If I trained myself, I could distance myself from all things Little Kid. I aimed to act Sophisticated, Adult, and Charming at all times. If I succeeded, the adults around me would love me! They’d understand that I was special.

Later in the wedding day, we sat down to a fancy dinner. As always, I was eager to please the adults. I knew they’d be charmed by this performance: I closed my eyes and learned over to sniff a flower on the table. Instead of approving smiles, the dinner guests reacted in horror.

While leaning, I’d dipped my hair into a candle, and I was on fire. (My hair had been doused with hair spray that day, so the fire spread very dramatically.) Attention I wanted, and attention I received!

My uncle, the groom, hit my head repeatedly to extinguish the flames. There was lots of yelling.  Just as soon as the fire started, it was out. (My haircut afterward was crazy, but at least that was the extent of this damage).

I find it hilarious that this was the first wedding I ever went to. Chaotic and embarrassing as it was, clearly it didn’t scare me away from a long career in the industry. More than that, it proved to be a vital lesson. It’s almost too literal. People pleasing is playing with fire. It doesn’t serve me anymore.

After being a professional photographer for years, I felt like something was missing. I was always frustrated, and I was creating art based on what I thought people wanted to see– rather than what I wanted to create. Like when I was a child, I was crippled by the desire to be seen as Sophisticated. I wanted to command respect with my Art. That seriousness was a huge impediment to my process. Operating out of fear is never the way toward growth.

In my 30s, I realized something was missing in my ambition of being an artist: play. Letting myself be embarrassed. Making things no one asked for or wanted. I hadn’t played as a child, teen, or an adult. I was too busy, too wracked with anxiety. I didn’t know how.

In the Creative Act, Rick Rubin posits, “The object isn’t to make art, it’s to be in that wonderful state which makes art inevitable.” Enjoying life, creating channels that invite whimsy, and loving the process is my aim now. How can I infuse this lesson into my work, and not catch my hair on fire?

My new blog concept, Uncategorized, is a bridge toward connecting myself to my work, and enjoying the process. Watch in real time as I keep learning how to play.  I’m not optimizing these posts. I don’t care if I have a run-on sentence or if my husband is the only reader. But I hope you follow along as I write about the more personal side of my business as a wedding photographer. The meandering, sometimes funny, and often stupid ways I fumble my way through life as an artist. It’s all a beautiful journey, and I’m glad you’re here with me.