My first blog post! Yahoo! 

I thought I would kick things off with a project that is so close to the heart. Though y’all know me best as a photographer, I have also always carried a deep love for writing poetry and prose. It’s extra special when I can combine the two. 

I wrote this poem after a series of dreams I was having. I won’t say what it’s about (yet), but instead invite you to draw your own thoughts around it first. Follow along to the end and I will spill the beans. 

So without further adieu, this is AN ORIGIN STORY. Written, designed, and photographed by me, and modeled by the magnificent Natasha Amato (@lullabyiris).

An Origin Story

Go forth on the forest floor
where it will all start to take shape.
Apex creator, 
build your home from within.
I, too, am often misunderstood.

Who is named protector
depends on perspective,
but we can all be something to someone.
And we disturb the comfortable,
to spark evolution,
to change their course,
as we stay seated in our own power. 

Stepping into your energy
there’s a lust for weightlessness
laced in with the elements.
A beautiful monstrocity 
who’s work comes for good.

So for that, 
you move along.
Present in the shadows,
admired from a distance,
anchored in skyline,
enduring in dreams. 

Well, I have to say it feels really good sharing this with you.

No matter how many years accumulate, I still get those flickering butterflies when I know it’s time for me to share my work, to be vulnerable. Can be scary…well it IS scary. Indeed. Great things tend to get wrapped up in big bow of emotions that signal transformation. The good news is, it always follows with a flood of gratitude. A reminder that this is where it counts, where the line between making “content” and making a difference is drawn, even if the only person that this work speaks to is me. But (excitedly), I know it spoke to someone else  –  Natasha  –  the model in the photos. 

So, for the backstory. Around late winter of 2023 I felt inspired to start writing poetry. Photography aside, I tend to go through phases of art making with various mediums. It’s something that used to bother me to no end, because I’d start a project and then lose interest either after “completing” a few things or just straight up dropping it mid-way through. Where’s the growth in that, right? I’d give myself a hard time after seeing the devotion and consistency that others convey through social media. LOL. We all have to realize at some point that the process, OUR process, just may actually be where the significant, potent, magical sh*t comes through (I had that slow burning light bulb moment by having honest conversations with myself and others who also thought they were alone in that sentiment). My advice? Literally if it’s fun or exciting or feels like you’ve got a little bird sitting on your shoulder whispering for you to create something in this very moment, listen to it. Frig what the you of tomorrow may feel, because the you of time beyond that will make sense of it all. 

So anyway, I said, “heck with it, I’m going to be a poet today and see what happens.” I decided to write about a dream I’d recently had. It was one of those dreams that remained so clear in my mind after waking. One of those dreams that was so chock-full of seemingly nonsensical symbolism that you can’t help but to pick through it again and again and wonder what on earth (or rather, the ether) is going on in your brain when the veil of consciousness recedes and the inner workings of whatever the heck happens in that state comes out to play. 

In short, the dream was about spiders. Big ones. Luring me into the woods. It wasn’t fear that I felt though (something I’d DEFINITELY feel if it happened irl) but instead a sense of welcoming. A feeling of likeness. Once I crawled my way onto their path, the ground behind me set fire. These terribly massive spiders were taking me to safety, to the woods. A place we both call home. Albeit it seems in hindsight that I had something to do with that fire following my path but unpacking that will remain for another day 🙂

So I went with them. Once I was awake I did understand…well…how we both can be misunderstood. 

*Sips coffee* Yup, I talked to my therapist about it. 

And she brought up a good point (as always). One is that the “seemingly nonsensical symbolism” I tried to write off because I was afraid to confront it, is actually a powerful message. Spiders are the ultimate creators. Their home starts from within, and from there they build their web. And gosh are they beautiful. Not to mention, they benefit the ecosystem in countless ways. And when I see a spider, something that is a fraction of a fraction smaller than me, I stop and immediately consider my next move. That my friends, is evolutional prowess and dazzlingly humble power. Undoubtedly admirable. 

I found myself wanting to be a spider, or at least, tap into the spidey vibe haha. Because of that dream, when I see a spider now I stop and smile. I receive the message. Because, we too, have everything we need within us. And we too, have the ability to shift the course of whatever lies before us, by simply being who we are. And who cares if they don’t understand. What we are capable of is exponentially greater when we release misguided labels and see to unsung fears. 

And while all these thoughts were swirling around in my head, Natasha’s message appears in my DMs (thx universe). 

We wanted to create something, and after mustering up the courage to send her this poem, it was without a question that we were destined to illustrate it together. The best part is, it once again reminded me why art is so dang essential. Her thoughts around this poem took had an entirely different, wonderful shape.

Here’s her take: 

“I came across Origin Story, and the decision was very clear. A poem about a change in perspective and seeking for love and appreciation rather than judgment. The concept was inspired by spiders and the way they don’t necessarily fit within the beauty standards. These shots truly embody how strongly I resembled with the poem. Growing up, I spent time and energy finding the most creative ways to hide my arm. Somehow the sight of surgery scars and bulky tissues was too much for the people around me to handle. Imagine being told as a child that all the scarring from the surgeries needed for your tumor are offensive and making others upset. It becomes engraved in your brain, and you begin to see yourself as a defect. You find yourself in the crossfire of an internal battle. Appreciating everyone for the way they are but yourself. You apologize and feel guilt for the way you were born. So ashamed with yourself that you’re scared to meet new people, dragging the same old question:”what’s wrong with your arm?”. It took years to come to terms with how ridiculous it was to compromise my own happiness to shelter others from a part of me that needed no apology nor explaining. While in college I went through a surgery that came with complications, one of the many, I should say. A skin draft was done but it resulted in rejection. In the past pictures showing the discoloration and uneven mapping of a procedure that went wrong would have never made the cut. No matter how much I wanted to convince myself, there was no chance of having such a big insecurity of mine out in the open for everyone to see. While this is still an aspect of my condition that I still feel very self-conscious about, we’re not going to hide it. The days of shame and people pleasing are over, this version of me finds validation and acceptance from within.”

Lastly, and oh so friggin’ importantly, beauty exists e v e r y w h e r e. Beauty that goes beyond what we’re told. It’s up to us to choose to see it. It’s up to us to choose to share it.

Noticing, experiencing, and making beautiful things is at my very core. Me, you, spiders…we’re all not so different after all. 

Anywho, thank you for stopping by. I know nothing about writing a blog so any tips or advice are incredibly accepted. Any PLEASE, any remarks on if/how this project spoke to you will be welcome with open arms (8 fuzzy spindly arms).