"Purple Flowers and Green Grass", Prospect Park, Brooklyn, NYC, 7/2012. Juliana Beasley
For the last couple of months, perhaps longer I have wanted to begin a series of self-portraits as part of a new project. But, how to photograph myself? I had so many questions... everything from the technical to how I wanted to represent myself as I am right now at this time in my life.
I had fleeting glimpses or sketches in my head of myself posed in various locations, in various costumes or even without clothing at all. I feel the need to expose myself as honestly and as intimately as I have tried to photograph my subjects. And to revel in all my flaws and imperfections... that which like the word vulnerability has become an intrinsic part of my vision.
I have yet to go out to the Rockaways and perhaps, shoot what I have said to my closest friends would be my last summer working on a very long term project...a project that has much significance to me.
Lately, my creativity is sharing a space in my mind. I have begun to concentrate more on my health. One gives life to the other. Without my emotional, physical and spiritual health, I am not only worthless to myself but to my photography and even more importantly to others.
Just yesterday, I took a walk with Howard. I took him to our special place in Prospect Park... a quiet nook where few people gather even on busy summer weekends. We lingered in the shade on a sweltering summer day-- Howard to hot to be bothered to run after his ball. I poured some water into a travel dog bowl I carry in my bag for him. He lapped away as I wiped away the sweat dripping from my eyebrows with a worn bandana.
I was wearing my new skirt... one that is shaped so stylishly and in fashion this summer. A pattern of purple flowers dappled on white fabric covered my thighs. When I looked down to my knees, calves and toes extended in front of me, I noticed how lovely the colors of the skirt, my skin and the green grass played of of each other so naturally. I felt very feminine. A rare and rich moment. I felt the quiet and solace of being alone with my dear friend, Howard whose lack of conversation felt like a simple hushed blessing.
And this is my first self-portrait. I picked up my phone and took the image and loved it right away. I posted it on Facebook. I hoped that my inspiration was finally rekindled.
Today, I went back today with my digital camera and restaged the image. As with all redramatizations, I'm not sure I got the same sprinkling of sunlight upon my calves or the fall of my skirt but for now, I am satisfied.
7 comments:
Inspiration is such a fickle mistress. I hope you've gotten some back - I love your photography and writing.
Thanks Rich!! I love it when I am inspired and take pictures and write. I need it. With that thought, I will take the first step which is always the hardest and harness my camera and put it into action today!! Warm regards and wishing you inspiration. It comes, it goes....
I like your picture. It has an upswept feel (and perhaps its the angle)..I can almost imagine the next moment as melange/series/progession of aerial fantasy's ala Lewis Carroll. Very pretty. Very girly. Very content in the way that content happens after there's exhaustion..and yet I get that you're engorged with a supple and ready energy. Im reading a little about a mathematician by the name of Gödel. He's famous for a theorem that asserts (for one) that a system or group can't define itself by itself. Can't define a car by saying it's a 'car'. Have to bring in geometry, mechanics..etc..oddly enough though when one says 'car' with the mere intention of meaning it, folks usually get 'it' and at the very least understand the archetype...and interesting might be might when specific moments perfectly embed that 'notion' in such a personalized geometry that the receiver is touched in a way that may beyond the senders intention. Really, (now that I think about it), when I looked at your legs, I wished they could be mine...(essentially)..it's been a while since I felt good, and tired, and ready, and open..unfussing about what's natural about 'me'..it's subtle (and maybe because feet have so much to 'carry'), but this shot is about as 'letting go'/'letting good' as I know..and that patch of grass might as well be a the sky.
Thank you CJS for posting a well thought out message. I appreciate you took the time to think about my simple self-portrait. I'm still trying to figure out how to continue from this first image which in itself feels like any viewer could build a personal storyline based on the image. It is much more subtle than many of my images or most actually.
My personal storyline based upon inspection of this image is that when I looked through the camera and took the shot and later looked at it, I felt very girly and feminine (whatever that might mean in this gender specific world). I hadn't felt that way for a long time. I hadn't seen myself in that way and still don't even now. When I look at this photograph I think about everything that I do not see in myself. And I was in awe when I saw the result... I do not know myself this way. The image felt less like a photograph but a piece of fiction. A very sad piece of fiction about a young woman sitting in the grass, somewhat lost and yet also illuminated by the remnants of light in a shaded area of grass. I know my story or at least, I would like to think that I know it but this simple image was a revelation to my soul. Simply, it made me question certain notions I attribute to myself. Thanks again. Warmly, Juliana
Looking forward to seeing your upcoming works Juliana! Hope you're doing well! xoxo
Thanks Troy!! Is this Troy from New Zealand? xoxo
A couple days ago with the knowledge that this this photo is an image that has pried it’s way into a tucked away corner in the back of my mind, I was chatting with a friend, talking about ‘doors’, and the thought was it wouldn’t be a bad idea to actually take pictures of different kinds of doors. Walking around, in the city, in the suburbs, there are so many interesting and different types of doors.
And then, I was thinking some more, and it seemed doubly intriguing to fantasize what might be behind any particular door. And it seemed most compelling to me to consider activities or stories that contradict what one would intuitive associate with a particular artifice of a particularly styled door.
But what dawned on me unsuspectingly was what if there was something wanting to get out. It seemed to be a more vulnerable type of idea with more personalized implications and perhaps more of an indication of what one really feels about themselves versus being a variation of a peeping tom. For me it was a case of when concave becomes convex, and I almost instantly remembered what I initially associated with your photo, and your basic intention in creating a storyline of who you are, and then rather than this sensation of being swept away, upwards, and beyond into some kind of celestial realm it occurred to me the opposite can be found here as well. Where you you are being sucked, or pulled into that rabbit whole (so to speak) beyond the picture fame, and into ‘now/here’. It becomes intestinal, earthy, and mining like.
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