I boarded the 330 Aircraft, undoubtedly overweight carry on wheeling behind. I had taken a risk and made the tired early morning decision to wear yoga pants on my six and a half hour flight back to the islands, a fashion (or lack thereof) choice I would soon regret (we had to make an emergency landing in San Deigo which left my in my "work uniform" in front of people for longer than I'd like). Attempting to cozy up in my middle row seat, I requested a blanket and a water and made an attempt at totally decompressing. I released a heavy audible sigh and gently closed my eyes. Aching for a few minutes of solitude to give my mind a rest-heaven knows I had talked so much I was exhausted by my own voice. My lashes took solitude as they grazed the top of my cheeks for a brief moment before they were brightly stirred. I sat up, grabbed my fresh new moleskin and started scribing. Dammit can't I ever just relax for a few seconds? Eight pages of concrete plans, tailor made services for clients, and my thoughts, experiences, and conversations during the last 4 days in the dry hot desert. I'm always amazed at what I leave conventions with, the wealth of knowledge, the newfound kinships, and this one was no different. Although it is, slightly. I emerged out of a sea of 16,000 photographers with less emphasis of the social butterfly I typically am and a stricter focus on simply being an efficient business owner--with a decision to always follow my heart, not get so invested, and to shoot film. Seriously shoot film. This time I'm walking away with strengthened friendships, but an even stronger business platform. Thank you WPPI for showing me something new about myself once again. xo
A shorty Vine video that my friend Jen Jar grabbed of me while spending a short evening photographing in the desert.