The Everyday Genius of Your Artistic Voice: Episode 8: Storytelling

Welcome to the final episode of “The Everyday Genius of Your Artistic Voice”: Storytelling

Wow! Today’s the final episode of our 8-Part series about artistic voice in Photography. We’ve been all about turning what might seem like an ephemeral concept – into practical application. My fondest hope is that it’s the beginning of a great conversation – one that’ll last a lifetime! Continue reading “The Everyday Genius of Your Artistic Voice: Episode 8: Storytelling”

To Restore Order, Instill Hope

Saving Mr. Banks

The hubs and I saw “Saving Mr. Banks” the other day. LOOOOOOVED it. Bawled through about a third of it, truth to tell – which we didn’t expect AT ALL! But when something rings true in music, film, theatre, art… well, turn on the waterworks! I’ve always been like that.

There was section of the movie, where Tom Hanks’ character is talking to Emma Thompson’s. (can you say “perfect casting”??). He’s finally “gotten” her. Understood why she’s been so difficult. Is eye to eye with her, talking quietly, from his heart. He’s sharing his deepest purpose for what he does.. and says,
“…That’s what we storytellers do. We restore order with imagination. We instill hope again and again and again.”

My heart soared. My breath stopped. My eyes leaked. Yes! Yes!! That describes it perfectly… from the joy and sense the world made when my Mother read us stories as kids… to the way I feel about my art now, 50+ years later… that’s a beautiful summary. It’s what keeps me coming back, pouring my heart into the work I do – whatever it is. Because everything I do is about the story. But not just any story… the story of Uplifting.

SheSmiled
Continue reading “To Restore Order, Instill Hope”

Her New Coiffe

HerNewDoo

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Her friends thought her new doo was a tad overdone for everyday, although it definitely DID make a statement.
She assumed their stares were that of envy and admiration, so she struck the pose and imagined it immortalized in People magazine.

Oh, Snip-Snap!

Dramatic. Glamorous.

dramatic.glamorous_1

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Sometimes nature is so very dramatic and glamorous. She’ll just go for it. Break out her finery and sweep into that sky like the MEGA star that she is.
I love it when she does that.

I caught her this day in her explosionary finale of an intricately choreographed dance that took about an hour or so to create. She was deliberate. Detailed. Left no swish unswirled, yet no one could say the effect was overdone. No, it was… perfect.

When the grand finale finally burst into living technicolor oranges and reds with just a touch of peachy goodness, I swore I could hear the final strains of Ravel’s Bolero. Oh my. It was dramatic. And most definitely glamorous.

Convict Lake

My first visit there. I love that feeling of the first time... your heart quickens, your eyes get all sharp and darty at the new sights, even my stomach jumps around a little at the excitement of NEW. I'm big on the story too - and I love hearing them about the places I visit. Convict Lake was named after an incident in 1871, where a group 'o thugs, er, 'convicts' escaped from prison in Carson City. That's 200 miles away. So a buncha lawmen, er, a 'posse' chased those buggers all the way down here, where they had a shootout. The sheriff was killed, as was his Indian guide. They named the lake after the convicts, the mountain (Mt. Morrison) after the sheriff. Nobody named anything after the Indian guide, which strikes me as just pure ungrateful. It was a moody, weathery day... kinda fitin' with the story that goes with it. But I just went with the vibe and took this photograph to remember it all by.

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My first visit there. I love that feeling of the first time… your heart quickens, your eyes get all sharp and darty at the new sights, even my stomach jumps around a little at the excitement of it all.

I’m big on the story too – and I love hearing them about the places I visit. Convict Lake was named after an incident in 1871, where a group ‘o thugs, er, ‘convicts’ escaped from prison in Carson City. That’s 200 miles away. So a buncha lawmen, er, a ‘posse’ chased those buggers all the way down here, where they had a shootout. The sheriff was killed, as was his Indian guide. They named the lake after the convicts, the mountain (Mt. Morrison) after the sheriff. Nobody named anything after the Indian guide, which strikes me as just pure ungrateful.

It was a moody, weathery day… kinda fitin’ with the story that goes with it. But I just went with the vibe and took this picture to share with y’all.

Humphrey Bogart Was Here

He was going out. He didn't know when he would be back. Or even if he would. It was secret. Top secret. The call came in on the untraceable phone. The message was in code. Translation;  grab the bag by the door and leave now. He learned long ago to act first, question later. Which he did now. But this time as he left, he looked back. Took a mental snapshot of door, the steps, the way the  single lamp post draped light across the railing like a wing of an angel. Like the woman he'd left in the bed. She'd awaken without him.  And wonder why.

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He was going out. He didn’t know when he would be back. Or even if he would. It was secret. Top secret.
The call came in on the untraceable phone. The message was in code.
Translation; grab the bag by the door and leave now.
He learned long ago to act first, question later. Which he did now.
But this time as he left, he looked back. Took a mental snapshot of door, the steps, the way the single lamppost draped light across the railing like a wing of an angel.
Like the woman he’d left in bed.
She’d awaken without him. And wonder why.

Dr. Who’s Time Travelin’ Time Lord Bar

acesbar_1

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Isn’t this a nutty shot? So, I decided it’s Dr. Who’s traveling time lord bar. Cause I think Dr. Who must need a snort every now and then to unwind after a long day on the Time Lord time clock. And he sure wouldn’t want to run the risk of being stuck in some godforsaken dimension of No Fun At All, seeking said snortage. Hence the need for a time travelin’ Time Lord Bar. See, it’s time-tethered to the Tardis, thus always available. Genius.

I managed to snap this just as it was taking off, about to wink out of this particular time-space continuum. Who says digital cameras aren’t fast? Ha.

Yeaaahhhhh… welcome to Mental Movies by Karen. This is what a long day of recording incredibly dry narrations will do to a girl. Tall, cool one, anyone?

Daggers and Fingers in Clouds… Oh My!

daggerysunset-2011_1

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Glenshire Pond, August, 2010. The clouds were just breaking up from an afternoon thunderstorm. It seemed like everyone who lives at the Pond had set up camp on their decks or in their yards for this light show. People driving by were even stopping their cars and getting out to watch.
Yeah, it was that amazing.
I heard cheers, gasps, laughter, “Oh my god”s and “Did you see that?”s… and for the first time, actual applause for a sunset.

I guess mother nature really is the best show on earth.
I kinda feel like her staff photographer.

Behind The Green Door

greendoor_1

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I love crazy old doors. What’s behind them? Who passes through them? How long have they been there? Now clearly, there’s alot going on with this one right here. It’s a storybook door. And judging by the individual frames on this door, the age old push me, pull me, hit me, hang me, shake me, beg me, dress me, undress me, implore me, bestow up on me, gimmegimmegimme lifestyle has been going on for quite some time now. But what is the whole story here? Who was the original artist? Who commissioned him? And why? I have no answer. This kinda bugs me. Do you know?

InSeine Sunset

thebridgeoverseine-ity

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This was my first time in France, first gaze upon the Seine river – and first full view of this gorgeous city so full of art, history and promise.

It even had proper lighting. Heavenly. So I made it look the way it felt.

I couldn’t believe this sunset. People said it was unusual, but it was my first time in Paris, so how would I know? The thought did cross my mind; “Gee, it’s just like the Glenshire Pond!”. Then realized I’d probably committed some kind of mental crime de comparison.

The bridge is the Pont des Arts. It was a tit bit nippily in December when we were there. Snapping this shot in all my layers and full length down coat I could hardly imagine it – but during the summer it becomes a “studio en plein air” – a spot for painters, photographers, and other artists, and a picnic grounds for locals. Hey – let’s go there then! Wanna?