The August white light has mellowed into the browns and yellows of fall. I no longer wander daily through the woods seeking abandoned vehicles or woodsy sunrises. My days are spent as a Jane of all Trades in an organization that needed organization. I am learning, growing, and loving the fact that I am in charge of everything but responsible for nothing. Nice gig; and I got it.
Fall colors signify patience for spring
My weekends allow some explorations for photos. I dabble in the creation of products with my favorite photos; a few a day. My followers continue to grow on Instagram and without much effort, my twitter account is gaining traction. My photos or my products get retweeted. Life is peaceful and I am waiting for what is to come. I am patient and not looking to add any stress to my life.
Creating products
I do miss my adult life now limited in lockdown. Unable to travel, I miss the sojourns and solitude, the adventures and stimulations. I feel that for now, I need to find another creative endeavor, and am waiting for the motivation to manifest yet another possible path to follow, once free of restraints. The possibilities are endless.
A weekend photo
Living in the age of lockdown has proven beneficial. A stalled world has presented opportunities once closed to me. Stopping and restructuring for a future unknown is fascinating to me.
So at the beginning of this journey seventeen months ago when I lost everything I was like someone in the balcony watching the actors and audience play their roles, and I inwardly was pleased to be a manuscript waiting to be written. I have worked since the age of thirteen, always struggling to make more money, have more power, be more influential on student minds. Ugh, what a bore.
I think post Covid what will I do? Not repeating patterns is a whole rewiring of the brain, and searching Indeed starts with creative jobs and digresses to my three degree, tons of experience past which makes me cringe, so I go back to part time garden center jobs or pottery school receptionist, anything to avoid returning to the stressful and inane world of education and to continue to be creative. Eventually I will need to make money, but building a portfolio of photos, although unclear to me yet, may help secure something that pays and allows me to continue this journey.
I have never been happier being in lockdown limbo. Going out in the early morning to pursue creativity is fulfilling my need for stimulation and satisfaction. But recently weekends are marred by people. Weekend visitors to the island who post on Instagram their vector venture as superspreaders. The silence of solitude is disrupted with the sounds of motorboats, SUVs revving on remote roads, and fit joggers on the main highway. Go away. I want to photograph in peace.
What is amusing is I traded my inconspicuous economy car for a shiny black Jeep Gladiator so I can take old furniture to the dump. I hate it. Construction workers and utility workers in general get all excited like a child getting legos at Christmas; one even asked to drive it. Go for it. But surreptitiously wandering the island for shots is stressful in this rig and having California plates makes it a topic of concern by old lady walkers giving me the look of why is a Californian during lockdown photographing that abandoned house in the ravine. Those exchanged looks make me laugh as I drive away in my intimidating ride and view the attempts at resolving consternation in the rear view mirror. Never-the-less, I have taken to parking it in bushes and taking long walks for photographic ops.
I have 252 followers now on Instagram. For the longest time I could not break 30 likes. Then after wasting an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out why fotolover38’s blurry lamppost picture posted makes 548 likes, I started to see a few ways to increase likes; not that that is the purpose of why I do photography. But I am a gamer. I sniped ho’s on Grand Theft Auto and even this skill takes some creativity to accomplish. I like figuring out how programmers make programs so difficult and addictive thus piquing my competitive nature.
Instagram has cliques. Initially I could see street_photography hashtag has followers who follow each other. So following that hashtag and following likers from that group, starts to get followers and likes once you start engaging with those photographers. So every genre has an addicted group that love to be liked and followed. I oblige. It’s a real time waster but if disciplined one can spend little time each day seeing the relationships and joining in on the analytics of Instagram.
Another change I made was hashtags. As I gained followers, I repeatedly used the same hashtags. #photography showed I had five followers also following that hashtag. But I could also see that locals weren’t supporting my art, except the local pizza place, so I changed things up by looking at what other same genre photographers were using as hashtags thus hello more cliques. So I started posting international hashtags like #fleur, #flora, and #hana. I got likes and followers from Paris, Mexico City, and Tokyo. Now some liked me, others not. But the ones I wanted to follow because I genuinely enjoy their pics, I liked ten of their pictures. In turn, they came back and liked ten of mine. Ah, like for like mentality. Well isn’t this a waste of life.
Yes, but I want to see if I can now break 100 likes and the same gaming addictive behavior sets in. Instagram is truly evil. The dark side can quickly plunge a person into not painting the house or writing that novel you always said you would write. Moderation is definitely the key to breaking Instagram barriers and still get real life chores finished.
The darkest side of Instagram are profiles that like your art then out of courtesy you like one of theirs. So upon closer examination, after a few weird interactions, private messages that are inappropriate or financial scams that are coming next, you can start to spot the sordid sooner.
Hollyhopeisalive posts five pics. Three of her dogs, oh how cute, and one at a fundraiser all dolled up, and one is Tahiti. She is only in the one at the event, standing next to an ice sculpture on a buffet table. She has 5972 followers and five posts. She sends a message, “salut belle, ou habites tu?”
Delete profile and block.
Anyone who has hashtags #likeforlike, #followme, use my hashtag messages and I will repost, or anything other than just what the photo is needs to be eliminated. One weird like described himself as a 21-year-old with a camera and had a few nice pics so I liked one. I then noticed all of them had my exact #hashtags and I, being influenced by Instagram, was flattered, oh look he is emulating me which triggered old protective and nurturing patterns as an educator. Wait, this is creepy stalker scam and logic should guide my intuition. Delete and block, and stop being human. Instagram is not human nor safe.
Another tip off is that kid from India who has amazing pics of himself in Tibet, then a day later Michigan, then, damn, he visited Vashon Island, my island, look, he is on the beach, and just last week during lockdown too! Isn’t that photoshopping amazing! Delete, block you little scammer. Kudos for creativity tho.
I have a rental car I am obliged to hold on to since I am under Covid isolation, and the Port of Seattle waived taxes and surcharges, and I was not going to expose myself by returning it and having to walk from SeaTac Airport to my home on Vashon Island. Public transportation, emergency rooms, nursing homes, and rental counters are places I do not want to be at in this time. The problem is the rental has an Oregon license plate and islanders are definitely giving me dim views of distaste in this tight little island community. Outsiders bring the dreaded plague. History shows this to be an accurate fear. But I lived here twenty five years, left for ten, and having returned in December, I am not known as I once was when part of the community. Regardless, avoiding germs and wrath seems advisable.
I only venture out early morning to take photographs in public places when I can be first to get my latte at Burton Coffee Stand, encounter few other others on the country roads, shop fast, plastic glove protected, at Thriftway, and take advantage of the early morning light. What a weird time to have to consider if what I need is more important than the possibility of dying if I go for it.
I had been following street photographers, missing my midtown Sacramento visual stimulation, now located in bucolic woods, but the town is not an inspiration for captivating images. About four by four blocks long, lacking trees or architectural interest, Vashon must have some visual delight. I decided to give it a try.
I started to try to continue my promise to follow a life of creativity and realized that just as I am drawn to the images of other places across the globe, others might like to see what my community is like, albeit in lockdown. I see photos of what is exotic on my feed from those I follow. Vashon must be exotic to someone in Mumbai, Mexico City, or Tokyo I reluctantly reasoned. I needed to shed my western view and embrace a global view. I delight in waking to cherry blossoms from kyo_photo_t or snuggling in at night to the quirky faisal_aljunied from Singapore pics that make me giggle. Photographers around the world are liking what I saw as mundane or something I passed routinely commuting in by-gone days. So feeding my soul, I continue to create.
Photography is keeping me entertained. I am meeting very interesting persons from all over the world. Well, like Mildred in Fahrenheit 451, they are like my family, but better. Instead of parlour walls, on Instagram we compliment the creativity, the best candids, and even comment occasionally in solitary solidarity.
City photographers are risking their health, going from the role of artists of architectural interpretation to photo journalists recording the stricken on gurneys being escorted by paramedics into the horrifying Elmherst Hospital in Queens, New York. They get on subways and record in black and white images of either empty trains or social distancing. Others, less on the lookout now, show creativity from their rooftops, in the kitchen as chefs, or candids of their baffled pet as to why the human never leaves. I am lucky to be located in the woods above the beach during this time to record expansive nature for those in enclosed spaces.
I have increased hashtags internationally and met a maritime pilot who loved my container ship pic. I was going to photograph a lighthouse when this massive ship came lumbering by, close to shore. I shot it. Posted it. He liked it. When someone likes your shot, you can look at their account if not private. He had years of beautiful photos as one who pilots these ships. Gorgeous, up close shots. Now I know someone in Norway. I caught up on his whole adult life, family, travels, and an insider’s view of maritime shipping. It’s like acceptable stalking so to speak.
I am flirting with a gay and glorious model in San Miguel de Allende. His shots showed up in the local feed and he is physically fabulous. His personality shows in the multitude of outfits he dons photographed in front of buildings I photographed last September. He sends me hearts and I return flames. I hope to be able to meet up with him when I go back and do pottery in colorful and vibrant San Miguel. His photos make me wistful but I know the time will come when I can get back on the pottery path.
Instagram is an interesting interactive format that seems to have its own social code. I like your photo. You like one back. I like more of your photos; you follow suit. I continue to support your work with likes. You support mine. Some outright just follow. Bold! And if I like the work, I follow back. No dancing at all. However, I am building my following slowly with artists whose work I admire. Being a past educator I also look for emerging artists I appreciate and show them support with 💕. In two weeks I went from 45 to over a 100 followers. The respect is mutual. I enjoy scrolling their work.
But I get a lot of likes who don’t follow that dance. Some just random private accounts of non photographers who are quarantined and seeking entertainment with #eyecandy or #love. Others are local businesses who like my pics, maybe, but more likely promoting their wares. But some likes are attached to what I would call “follower whores,” who rack up to 3,000 followers. And the work is either highly manipulated with filters or pictures that would not have passed 1970’s photography class. So this I am still trying to figure out. So far, Instagram is like entering the playground at a new school and the first kid to approach you is the one who is someone from whom later you want to distance yourself. But you are so grateful that first week these bots and businesses liked your work. It takes courage to expose yourself initially to this unknown venue at the risk of rejection.
I once again cleaned up my site, becoming more discerning as to what is quality, dropping the less quality and keeping or adding better shots. I seem by talent or by situation a #naturephotographer which suits me fine. If I post late at night I get photographers on the other side of the world appreciating my work. Apparently analytics would differ and I would do better posting Tuesday at 11am, but like quality in art I prefer quality in persons who genuinely appreciate, or at least those stuck in a studio apartment in the concrete jungles, can benefit from my art.
I feel, for I am focused on learning to feel, like the world is on a precipice but I like this ever changing uncertainty. With the world held in limbo, I am experimenting with creativity and gaining on line social skills and media knowledge. Where this is leading I know not. But I am not only at peace, I am starting to feel happy. I didn’t know one could possess both.
Janegoesglobal 