Photos, Fear, and Timing

One of the things I have struggled with as an artist is how to "capture" the items I create. I have felt totally passive about this since I started creating art back in 1982. I never seemed to make it a priority to buy a camera: I had other more important pastimes (like riding and the upkeep of owning horses) that ate up what little money I was generating. So I reluctantly would have to beg, borrow and steal to hire someone to take photos of my artwork.

When I launched my Etsy shop, Kentucky Girl -- I made do by either scanning my oriel pendants, or even xeroxing them, then scanning those copies and uploading them to the my shop. I agonized over what type of camera to buy. I searched the online groups, the Etsy forum, asked friends who were camera buffs their opinions, and it all just drove me crazy. Hyperventilation even. I couldn't make up my mind.

Finally last summer, my brother Jesse (who is less video/camera/computer challenged than me) came in town and held my hand metaphorically, and we went out together to find a camera. A friend had recommended Seawood Photo in San Anselmo (CA), and we hooked up with the salesman Don Kennedy (who actually was at one time a real-life jewelry photographer -- imagine that!). Dan recommended the Canon Powershot, which I bought, and a "Photo Studio In-A-Box" set that included lights, camera stand, backgrounds, nylon diffuser screen -- everything I could possibly need to take plausible photos of my jewelry.

Have I unpacked the box? NO! Have I studied the manual of my Powershot? NO! This is serious -- we are talking drag your ass as long as possible here!

But tonight I'm making progress -- I unpacked and set up the photo studio. I've got my camera manual and I'm ready to rock! Let's see what happens!

What would it feel like to not be so concerned with timing? What would it be like to just feel my mane blowing in the wind?