Kat Eye Studio

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Reflected in my Work

When we create a work of art, we put a little piece of ourselves out in the world. Creation is expression of self; a reflection of self. As photographers, we often capture reflections of ourselves without intending to. Here is one such case for me… I loved the texture of the door and lock in this empty old theater in Astoria, Oregon. In the first image I captured, I was reflected in the door window. I noticed and moved to get another shot without my reflection, but in the end, it was the one with my reflected silhouette I liked best.

When I saw the image, it was a visual reminder that we are reflected in our work. The way we see the world, the things we choose to photograph, even the way we frame them are unique to us. Over time, we create a body of work that is an expression of who we are. We can also see our change and growth over time. It’s pretty darn cool to have that epiphany and discover yourself in your artwork.

I don’t know what my love of capturing old textured buildings and door locks says about me, but I know it does reflect a part of me. Maybe some day I’ll figure out what exactly that part is trying to say.

In The Picture

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A Gift

I’ve been given a gift. There was no fanfare, no gift wrap, and no card that accompanied this gift. It gently settled into my heart and soul last night, as I was getting ready for bed.

I was listening to my husband and son laying on the bed, reminiscing about a trip they took together to France to see a stage of the Tour de France. As they calmly chatted and laughed, I realized that I no longer feel sadness and longing in my memories of our time in Italy. Our whole family has felt the sadness and longing since returning home, but they had only fondness in their conversation.

It was then I realized the gift I had received. Through all of my recent work on letting go of expectation and filling the space with intention, I have found acceptance. Acceptance of where I am now, along with acceptance of the joyous experience that was my time in Italy.

Each memory of that time is now it’s own precious gift. Not to be hoarded with longing, but treasured and held up to the light with joy. To be felt again, but from where I sit today. To be seen in a new perspective.

I have received an amazing gift, to be able to enjoy the memories now while also enjoying the now. I have a smile on my face and in my heart today.

In The Picture

This photo is over a year old, taken last April in Italy. I’ve had it sitting in my edited images folder, just waiting for the perfect moment to use it. Now I know I was waiting for today, because here it is, perfectly representing the gift I’m writing about. While it’s not a recent photo, so I don’t quite meet the criteria for {in the picture}, there was enough symmetry with the timing of the link up, the post and the connections in the photo I thought I would share. The gloves were knitted for me by our {in the picture} hostess, Urban Muser, while we were Mortal Muses together. The Muses had a running internal joke that winter about fingerless gloves, another precious memory that brings me joy. Thanks Christy.

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Black and White with Shades of Grey

To color or not to color, that is the question. No, I’m not talking about photography, although it’s easy to get caught up in the color vs. black and white debate there. I’m talking about… hair.

This silly little question has taken up way too much of my brain space since returning from Italy. Not too long after moving from Italy I remember looking around a meeting at my corporate job and realizing that of the women in the room, all my age and older, I was the only one with any grey hair. There was lots of distinguished grey among the men in our similar age range, but not the women. Now, I know that’s not natural. I was the only one not coloring my hair.

So my brain starting working. Debating. Is it time to color? Do I need to color? What does it take to color? Would I feel better about myself if I no longer had grey hair? The arguments “against” are strong to my practical nature: Once I start coloring, I’m going to want to continue. It’s an added expense and activity that will go on and on. If I decide later I don’t want the color anymore, I’ll have to go through that horrible “growing out grey” phase.

But the arguments “for” are enticing. Coloring my hair would be another fashion choice. Something I could change on a whim, even more readily than my clothes. I could experiment. I would look younger.

I haven’t decided the outcome of the debate yet, as this self-portrait will attest. Or maybe I have. I hold out on color because of the commitment, but I also think there is more to it for me than that. I think I’m worried I might lose track of me, somewhere in the color. Lose track of some essence that says, “Hey, Kat, you are ok just as you are, hair and all.” If I’m not willing to accept a few grey hairs, a natural part of life, what other things will I want to change? Most things about me can’t be revised so easily.

So here I stay. In black and white with shades of grey. What’s you take on the color debate?

In The Picture

This month’s {in the picture} theme is “black and white.” All of my self-portraits in this project so far have been black and white, so the theme was not a stretch. The subject matter, however — me — is the stretch. I continue to be delightfully surprised at my growing ability to think of a concept for the self-portrait and then execute on it. This method of photography is different from my usual mode of operation, where I’m exploring my environment and finding compositions with my camera. I’m enjoying myself so far.

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Music in Me

Creating takes many forms. We often think of creating as bringing something wholly original into the world. We limit ourselves with this belief.

When we take some raw material and transform it into something new, we create. When we cook a meal from ingredients, we create. When we combine pieces of clothing from our closet into an outfit, we create. When we pick up an instrument and bring sounds from it, we create.

I’ve been exploring this aspect of creating through my new/old guitar. I’m not the “creator” of the music I’m learning, but I am the creator of the sounds. This guitar would not be making these sounds were it not for me. The music doesn’t exist without me.

Every day, we get to create. Every day, we start with raw materials and turn them into something new. There is freedom and joy that comes with this knowledge. I love knowing this, don’t you?

In The Picture

This month’s {in the picture} theme is “Write On,” putting words on our self-portraits in some way. I thought this quote was perfect to express what I’ve discovered about playing the guitar. I envisioned this shot in my head, wanting the view out the window overexposed and me to be dark in contrast. I set it up using a tripod and remote, and discovered it was challenging to use the remote to trigger the camera, drop it, and get my hands in position in time to take the photo. It took a few tries! The blur of my head was a total accident, I must have been looking between my hands at the moment the picture was taken, but I found I liked the softness it brought to the image. It went well with the light.

So, month two of my self-portrait journey is done, and it’s getting a little bit easier. It helped to know what I wanted to “say” with the photo, and focusing on the concept I was wanting to convey rather than the idea that it is a photograph of me. How’s it going for you?

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Putting Myself In The Picture

While I love capturing the world around me, I hate being in front of the camera. Hate it. That’s why it’s with some tredipation and fear that I join in with Urban Muser’s In The Picture project this year, gently exploring self portraiture.

I have noticed I carry a lot of biases about self-portraiture. I could list many reasons that I have kept myself out of the picture in the past. But they are all just a protective facade, designed to keep me safely away from images of myself. What am I trying to avoid?

I guess this year, I’ll find out. One image at a time.

A self-portrait opportunity presented itself to me on Saturday, while at the Portland Art Museum. I was in the Contemporary Art Gallery when I noticed the light. The sun had come out, after a rainy morning, and I loved the interplay between the light and the art. I started to capture this painting, Green One by Pat Steir, when I realized the gallery was empty, and there was plenty of space to work. I set up my camera, grabbed my remote and captured a few frames.

It’s a safe start, I must admit. I’m abstracted, a silhouette. To an outside observer, the image is not about me as much as it is about a person interacting with art, with the light. I could have taken this of anyone.

But it is about me, to me. About my love of art and painting, about being in an environment that allows me to enjoy it. The image becomes more personal, more meaningful.

Maybe that’s the point of self-portraiture? I’m not sure. It’s going to take a while to work through my biases and figure out this whole genre of photography, and how it fits for me. This is the start.

In The Picture

PS – A word about this gorgeous painting! It was so full of texture and subtle color, it is no wonder it caught my eye in the light. You can find out more about Pat Steir and her work here.

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