He didn't know he was inspiring me...

I sat on the edge of my bed in my new apartment and glanced around the white room. The beige carpet floors were freshly vacuumed, a walk to  the apartment gym was a few hours behind me, and my 3-month-old daughter was already asleep for her second nap. The clean laundry was neatly folded and the two bedroom apartment was precisely cleaned and deafeningly quiet. I didn’t have a car and my recent relocation to Indianapolis was far from desired.

I was alone, in many ways; physically and emotionally. I was away from my home, Clearwater Florida, where my family has always lived. The only friends I had even known live there. I was married at the time, and my then husband was working an 80 hours a week job, and I was there learning to be a mom.  I found myself  spending most days constantly ”emotionally cleaning”, as a way to cope (well… refolding hand towels everyday did not feel like coping at the time, it felt like self diagnosed OCD or just sincere desire for straight folded towels). The days ran together, each had the same routine. My creative soul felt nothing. I had not taken a photograph in nearly 12 months…. until this one day…..

Nap time meant I had a moment to myself. I grabbed my Apple laptop and went into the living room. I sat in the burgundy recliner we had just bought for $30 at salvation army and it creaked when I sat down. The chair was strategically set by the large double sliding doors that over looked the lake. The recliner laid back slightly and I sat in my usual stature, legs crossed over each other. This was the place. There was only one spot in the apartment that the internet would work and if I moved the computer, I would have to restart it and try to get connection once again. Each day was hit or miss depending on the weather and each day I sat very still…and I would hope and pray…

We couldn’t afford internet so I had to ‘borrow’ it from the free network. I balanced my laptop on my knee in just the perfect spot.

There don’t move. Turn on wireless internet. AH YES!!

I clicked on my bookmark. My favorite one… there was only one place I would go…. (this was before Facebook, or even Myspace) I only knew of one photographer, an old friend of mine whom I once had helped put together his portfolio for art school. Matthew Priestly.

He was a writer, a photographer and his photography blog was so incredible it inspired something inside of me. His written words were splashes of color in the gray of my day and I watched at a distance as he pushed himself, tried new things and created images that were stunning and raw. One of the most beautiful things about his writing was his boldness, and it mixed with his images effortlessly. He was fearless in his words, saying things that most would be embarrassed to, but his eagerness to be real, had me entranced. His wife became his photographic muse and he used paint, dirt, water, lighting and make-up to break out of the box and the results were incredible. I remember the moment, the precise moment, after months of following Matthew and watching him grow…

I shut my computer, went to my walk-in closet and stood on my tip toes to see past the high shelves. The box was high up in the closet in the comer, out of sight. The kitchen chair aided the rescue and I pulled down my Canon Rebel camera. It felt strange in my hands, like a weight, heavy in every aspect.  I hadn’t held it in so long, since college, a few years prior.

In that moment, I didn’t feel creative, I didn’t feel like I had anything in my spirit to let shine…..but his images, his creativity, his willingness to do new things, made me want to create again. The first few months after that day felt similar to learning to ride a bike for the first time- unsteady and a lot of creative falls. The images were not gorgeous, they were plain, not worthy of a status update, or an image gallery…… but I loved them. I was finding me again and my photographic voice.

For the first few “photo set ups” I used a wrinkled white sheet as a backdrop (Hand. Face. Smack.) and let my daughter be my subject. To this day, she brings out a happiness in me that is unique only to her blue berry eyes and dimpled smile.

My mind couldn’t conceptualize anything creative or unique at that time, and yet I loved each moment I press that shutter button. It was like finding a new part of myself. I tried to push myself with my images, and stopped using backdrops that felt silly anyway.  Those images were a work in progress. Being in that place, that home, felt like a prison, not only in the physical world but in the emotional and creative sense. It’s in my nature to be happy,  joyful, optimistic and I fought for bright perspectives daily. I often found them through my lens.

A lot has changed since then. I am a new person with a  life is a rainbow of creativity and love…and yet something remains precisely the same.

Words. Rawness, beauty through real life is powerful. Matthew never knew I was reading his blog. He didn’t know I had been watching from a few states away. He had no idea that through his passion, ambition, and creative ability he inspired me to do what I love… If it weren’t for him,  his boldness, his inspiration…. I don’t know where I would be right now.

Authenticity changes people and inspires people. It pulls on the debts of our souls, and speaks to the creative spark that is longing to be a raging fire. I hope to let passion and ambition drive me and recklessly abandon the fear of what others will “think”  of my creative path. We each have the ability to inspire… we have the ability with our passion…to change people or even just one person.  That person could be the change that the world needs.

This is the reason I write. This is the reason I push past myself, my fear of rejection, my fear of what someone might think of me, because there might be one person reading that needs someone to tell them…”Your story is worth telling. Your soul is worth sharing… through whatever creative way you long to share it…”

Live boldly.
Love & Peace,
Julie

Matthew is now taking lead in fashion photography. His images are stunning, unique, emotion filled and powerful. He has been published many times and works as a high-end fashion photographer shooing models in New York, Arizona and LA. The first time I told him this story was 3 months ago. He has never heard it in this depth before. I have been a professional photographer for 6 years. I’ve never put down my camera since that day…