Tuesday, June 30, 2009


I am always going.

This is the condition of almost everyone my age, at least in the world of university. Every year, I pack up 95% of my life and relocate it. Now that I've just settled into my new home in Athens, I must venture off into the unknown for a two-month internship. Chicago awaits. Charles and I leave in the morning. He is a doll and is helping me move/adjust to the city. When he leaves next Tuesday, I will be confronted with an unknown fear of facing a foreign city on my own.

Friday, June 26, 2009


I'm cleaning out my folders. I realize I am too much of a perfectionist. I went back and re-edited a few frames from my trip home a few weeks ago. I modified and substituted. Hardee's sort of breaks up the monotony. They have great french fries (pictured) as well as fabulous chocolate malts (not pictured).

Wednesday, June 24, 2009


It has been awhile since I have been alone. Not the feel-sorry-for-me type of alone. Surely there is plenty of love in this home and in this town. I moved into my new house last week, and for awhile, it was filled with people. I kept myself busy with unpacking, housekeeping, and random bouts of social activity. But Carrie left a few days ago to prepare for her summer-long trip around Europe, and Charles left today to visit home until the end of the month. Emily is never here because she works/lives in Columbus. I have a big, empty house in which to toss around my thoughts and feelings until I leave for my internship in Chicago. Charles is staying with me for a week, and then, once again, I will be living alone... only, this time, in a stranger of a city. I have not really had so much space in years. During the hustley bustley quarters of the past two years, I rarely found the time or desire to isolate myself. It is healthy, I know, but I got antsy. During breaks from quarters, I avoided the space because I feared delving into self-pity.

I have experienced so much warmth and so much growth this past year that I no longer fear space like I used to. I know the facts: I am loved. I am supported. I am safe. I don't need a room full of people to remind me that life is beautiful.

I don't have a problem bearing all. Getting personal.

I dyed my hair blonde and, after a sort of therapy-influenced epiphany, realized that light hair it is sort of symbolic of how I feel about myself, or how I want to feel, at this point in my life. I had bright and artificial red hair from October to early June. Eight months is a lifetime when you're 21. I wanted to be loud and on fire and in charge. It is easy to put on a costume and instantly transform, I guess, but it goes away. What a curious little juxtaposition to feelings of cowardice. Last year, I fell in-love with the idea of instantly and easily making myself feel better when I seemed an unworthy wreck of a woman and impulsively cut months-worth of grown-out hair off. I started the past school year off in a tender place, and I ended it in a confident place. But now I can be soft. I can be gentle. And all the right people will still pay attention, and I will still feel alright. That isn't to say that I will never be red again, or green or hot pink. My reasons will continue to change, as most things do.

Now that I've confused the hell out of you, goodnight.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009


I went home this past weekend. Charles came with to meet the family/cats. Typical new relationship ritual.

It was a beautiful weekend celebrating my sister's 24th birthday with my immediate parents and grandparents. She and her boyfriend had just arrived back in the state after a month-long road trip around the country. I don't get to see her too often now that she's in grad school in California, so I cherish the moments that we are in each other's company.

As Charles and I bummed around my hometown, I realized, with the help of some outside perspective, that Bucyrus isn't really that bad of a town. It's clean. It's simple. The people, for the most part, are friendly. I could've grown up in much worse places.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009


I realize I just blogged, but to get the ball rolling, here is one of the six images I created for my final in Portraiture.

The model is Skyla, an artist and a nude model. I will post more from this series later.


Hello. I am here. Here I am.

I gave in and created an "official" photo blog. 

I will try to be faithful to this one for a change, though my various blogging ventures have been scattered throughout cyberspace for the past nine years.

I will post photographs in this blog. Odd though, very few of my commercial counterparts have blogs. So, I apologize if all of this seems a little out of trend. I realize that this might be a photojournalist venture by custom. Of course I document little happenings here and there. Nothing monumental, but at least now I have a proper place for them.

There are far too many talented photographers at my school, and I am guilty of creeping around their blogs and portfolios... but I refuse to creep anonymously anymore.

Welcome aboard... me.