I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it a million times again. Own what you do. Have confidence in your passions. Just because someone else doesn’t understand it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pursue it or that you should hide it.
I recently read this article. A man rediscovered his childhood love of miniature soldiers during quarantine. With his job back on, and Zoom meetings in full force, rather than let his coworkers see his miniature war build behind him on Zoom, he stored away his passion. But then, he wrote about the experience. Some part of him is proud of it, but he wanted to distance himself a bit. Maybe his coworkers don’t look up his name or read his articles, it’s hard to say.
There’s been multiple articles about people discovering miniature photography in quarantine, and they’re being praised – here for example, and rightfully so, but shouldn’t that open the door for more people to, at minimum, pursue a similar passion?Continue reading “Keep Doing You”
I love toy photographs that make me do a double take. The ones that just look so very real. Bringing toys to life is such an intriguing ambition that many of us share and finding new ways to do so really gets me motivated.
The six image narrative project has me thinking about images I’ve created in series in the past. Some I plan and then shoot all at once, or in sequence over the course of a day, week, month, etc. Others develop more slowly. I have an idea I return to, or a figure that turns into a muse. And with that figure and idea I create one image, then some time later another, until a series forms.
At one point, this took the form of melancholy, and in that a doll and her toes. Or maybe the key is that most of my work is self portraiture, and I insist on bare feet in my real life as often as possible. Continue reading “Focusing on Toes”
On the heels of my ‘Own What You Do‘ post, it only seems appropriate to talk about my bonds formed with photo props (in this case toys).
Each of my pieces is in some way a self portrait, feelings vomited onto the page (or maybe the camera sensor, the miniature scene, however you want to see it.) The items I use to create those moments, especially the ones I use over and over, come to hold a very high importance.
My dining room is my art studio, and by art studio I mean 2 tables, one with 2 dollhouses, the other with a pop up table top photo studio. Underneath is storage, mostly contained in plastic drawers, but some being larger parked toy pieces. Now, picture a small child coming into that space. Are they going to see it as a hands-off artistic space? Absolutely not. It’s a toy room…
While certainly not the only images of note that I created in 2012, I began this blog in July of that year and am going to go with the assumption that the images I chose to share here were some of my best. I have delved deeper in my collegiate and prior photo history, and while I appreciate those images for where they’ve led me, I can’t say they’re good, so I’l stick with showing off the below.
2012 was my junior year of college. I had firmly decided that miniatures were going to continue to be a part of my photographic work, but was largely creating for course assignments. That summer I studied abroad in Italy, and prior to arriving, knew my main photo goal was going to be photographing the street-sold souvenirs alongside their full size counterparts.
2012 was also the year that my dad wrote a book and had me create the cover. Only my second ever book cover, and I enjoyed having relative freedom with how I chose to depict his words.
Photography is all about light, composition and, most importantly, emotion. – Larry Wilder
I aim to make emotive photos that elicit an emotional response in the viewer. Whether I’m successful in that or not is really up to you, but I feel, to a degree I am.
It starts with emotions I feel poured out into the photo. Lighting, color, blur, setting, posing, all play their part to then make that vision a reality however.
So here’s how I go about this task.
I tend to return to figures without facial expressions and with limited detail. The more blank the figure, the more I feel the viewer can place themselves within the story. The human mind is wired to find faces, and human features. So as the photographer, I don’t have to offer much in the way of human iconography in order to get the viewer involved – bringing their own experiences to the scene before them.Continue reading “Creating Emotional Toy Photographs”