Shattering the blue

"To create one's world in any of the arts takes courage. I have been terrified every day of my life, but that has never stopped me from doing everything I wanted to do.
To make your unknown known - that is the important thing."

- Georgia O'Keefe

I am afraid of my own art.

Although I like to tell my wife that she's got a lot of great stuff - that she will succeed as an artist, I scoff at the same idea for myself and my photography.

I define myself as a high school teacher. Yet I also love the art of photography.

Take this cloudy sky. I shot it during a very brief moment at a wedding we had a month or so ago. I had a moment of stunned disbelief at the beauty of the clouds and the sunlight violently shattering the blue. I imagined myself out somewhere, in the country, taking photos at that moment, the breeze gently rolling through a valley, breathing in the beauty around me.

I love those quiet moments with the camera. The scenes I find sometimes literally takes my breath away - and all I can do is stand there for a moment taking it all in. Then I frame the photo and capture it for others to see.

The thing is, and I don't want to sound conceited, but I'm pretty good. But for some reason I don't want others to know it...
























I laugh when we do art shows because my "photography never sells."

This isn't really true - and it's always my wife who reminds me of this.

I've had individual people pay hundreds of dollards for my art - people who find my captured moments of beauty close to their heart.

Yet... doubt and disbelief settle in like good friends coming over to talk about old times.

The truth is that I've never really tried. It's staggeringly easier to say to myself, quietly, "I'm not good enough," and let it be. And although I want to scream at my wife when she has some self doubt (because her art has always succeeded), I don't follow my own advice, even if I can say that I am pretty good.

There is an artist inside me, waiting.

Lurking.

Trying to get out and be something - to say something true.

Maybe some day I'll have the courage, like my wife, to speak.

This Tuesday.

Epic.

Dreaming

Some days my life does feel like a dream - a good one. I came home last night after a long day, stressed out and tired beyond words. School has been pretty hectic for me, and there's just so much going on, it seems hard to catch up and spend some time just enjoying life.

I stay up at night thinking about all the things I have to do at school, and I wake up earlier every day because my restless nights are filled with the same thoughts. It's sick. I know it.

But last night, as I walked to the door, my wife had put a "Welcome Home" sign up. It instantly made me smile.

I walked in and saw here at the table, candles lit, and dinner on the table. Music played in the background, and all my worries and stress just oozed off my shoulders. Her dinner was fantastic, and we sat together and talked for a while, just enjoying each other's company.

It feels good to be loved and to live a dream.

Thank you, Casey.

Together

This is a "photo poem." It's a photo I took matched with my wife's writing. What's cooler than that?

My wife is, without a doubt, the most talented person I've ever met. Her writing is filled with so much emotion and truth - with hope and passion - that it brings out new and exciting views of my photography.

Her art and writing inspires me. Her outlook on life, even in a dark world, gives me hope.

Her love makes everything worth it.

Catie

Shooting with Catie was amazing. It started off with us just experimenting with some flash setups, but when I couldn't get things to work like I wanted, I abandoned the flash and just took photos. Catie was a rockstar, and I can't imagine having more fun!