Thoughts and Shots: November 12, 2017

It has been over 3 years since I marched in the Hollywood Me Too Survivors March. I vividly remember staying up late the night before Googling how to take photos at a protest/march and fueled by a mix of excitement and energy as the night wore on. A lot has happened since then and this past summer I stumbled across the photos in Lightroom. I didn't have time to edit them at that particular moment but I distinctly remember feeling a rush of emotions as I scrolled through them. On the day of the march itself, I recall my emotions being just below the surface and focusing on taking photos was a welcome distraction. Viewing everything through my viewfinder allowed me to minimize my own emotions in the same way that the images and scenes before me were reduced in size and seemingly taken from a safe distance despite my proximity to them. My camera helped me keep my emotions at bay that day but as I viewed the shots 3 years later, there was no escaping the emotional waves that came rolling in. 

Once I finally had the chance to sit down and edit my photos, I was able to revisit and process some of my emotions. As I navigated them, I did my best to stay focused on using the workflow of rating, editing, picking, etc. that I have slowly been developing over time. I have watched enough Lightroom tutorials to now have a basic understanding of what it can do but it is only as I work on the final revisions of this post that I realize I should have started with that before I even rated my first photo. If you don't start with that understanding, knowing what all the sliders and buttons can do seems pointless. As I reflect on this editing session, a desire to convey the energy and emotions of that day seems to be what was driving me subconsciously. I believe it was right there below the surface in the same way that my emotions were that day in November. My edits for these photos were mainly using Auto Tone and cropping them. Was it that I didn't know what else to do with them? Or was that enough to enhance them while preserving their emotional rawness? Maybe it was a little of both, but the next time I edit photos, I will be more intentional as I think about my desired visual outcomes before selecting any photos.  

The sky was gray that day and so I didn't have my usual measurement of knowing whether or not my shots were on track in terms of exposure. To be honest, there were very few shots that even showed the sky. The shot below is one of the few that did and I wonder how different it would have been with a blue sky in the left corner behind the palm trees. Nevertheless, I like this shot for a number of reasons: the message on the sign, the distinctly So Cal palm trees amid the buildings, and the variety of directions people are facing. I think that last part especially speaks to our perspectives and our attention spans and the constant barrage of messages that surrounds us. I was curious to see how the shot would look in black and white. I think I like it better without color for two reasons: 1) it looks more timeless (that's part of the effect of black and white, I know) and 2) I think it brings the focus to the sign and the message which really is what I like the most about the shot to begin with.

 

I developed the photos below in black and white for similar reasons. I debated cropping the pedestrian sign but then I would have lost the women in the bottom left. Looking back now, it's hard to see them so maybe black and white wasn't the best option for this one. In the other shot, the young lady's sign was on cardboard so it lost some of its pop when I made it black and white. I was hoping that doing so would bring the focus on her. I'm not entirely convinced that black and white was the right call for this one either but at least now I have some things to consider the next time I'm in the Develop module with my mouse hovering over black and white. 

 

I have also learned you can rename your exports based on the folder you move them into and I did that for the 7 photos I exported initially. I say "initially" because I forgot that I had meant to turn some into black and white. As a result of this, I ended up having to make sure that I started my second set of exports at the right number or else I'm pretty sure I would have overwritten some of my previous images. Again, something I need to consider (and write down!) at the start of my next editing session.

As I took photos, I didn't really have time to read all the signs closely. Especially this one:

I don't know what compelled me to take this shot. Based on its position in my Filmstrip and the people in the background, I must have taken it before we started marching. It was only when I sat down to edit my photos that I finally read the entire sign. I was saddened to see that a show I loved in my youth had been an unwelcoming environment for a fellow Latina. After Googling Vanessa Marquez, I learned that she was also Ana (the nerdy girl) in Stand and Deliver, and I was heartbroken to find out what happened to her. I don't know who this woman is, but stoic and strong, she stood for Vanessa that day. Knowing what I know about the protocol for being "awarded" a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, I doubt Vanessa will ever have one, but on the morning of November 12th, 2017, part of her story was told nonetheless.

As I mentioned before, I hid behind my camera that day. I wasn't prepared to fully confront my own feelings and things moved so quickly that there was really no time to notice all the emotions of that morning. The camera caught them though. It was only when I was editing that I noticed this photo:

I don't know who this woman is or what exactly led up to this, but I caught this moment of deep emotions. A part of me feels badly for having captured something so intimate and personal--especially when I was intentionally keeping myself from engaging emotionally. I remember some of the chants from that day and there was one in particular that I remember desperately wanting to say, but fear held me back. Voicing those words would have resulted with me being emotionally swept away and I was scared to lose it on a street in Hollywood. 

I see now that my camera was both a life preserver and an anchor that day. 

The photo below was almost the mother from Titanic. I don't really remember any of the other speakers from that day and she was probably the most high profile celebrity to speak. As I went through my shots, I discovered that I had some of Tarana Burke, the founder of the Me Too movement, and I knew that I needed to share one of those instead. 

The setup of all my shots was essentially the same, but I ultimately liked this one the best for a number of reasons. I have seen other photos from that day where the backdrop fills the space behind her, but I like mine better because it shows the true odds of what we're up against. Our voices that day were competing with (and maybe even drowned out by) all the signs and symbols of Hollywood and the movie/media industry. No matter what we said that morning, money spoke--and continues to speak--louder. I like to think my shot captures this. The true background is an iconic movie marquee, a reminder of how fake much of what we see on screens is. I also like how prominent the woman in the foreground is. She serves as a visual warning: young women are watching. Back then, it felt like no one was listening, but I have to hope and believe that things are changing. After all, three years later, I'm now a boy mom who is about to watch the first female vice-president be inaugurated. 

Do I think I have any iconic photos? Nope. Was I hoping that I would take one? Absolutely. I would be lying if I tried to deny that I wanted to walk away with one shot that encapsulated everything--from the energy to the emotion--from that day. Looking back now, maybe that was never possible. I hope that, at the very least, I've captured and conveyed a small sense of what it was like to be there in November of 2017. I've grown and changed immensely since that day, and I'm truly glad that so much time elapsed between the time that I shot and edited the photos. I firmly believe that 2021 Monica was able to edit and appreciate the shots in a way that 2017 Monica would not have been able to do. Please know that the photos I included here are just a small representation of the different signs, messages, and, ultimately, stories that were present that day. The image below captures what I hope was a cathartic moment for one of my fellow marchers: 

My own catharsis was years in the making, but it started on that day.

Project 52: Shots 30 - 32

Speed (July 20, 2016)

As I started to write this post, over four years after I took the shot, I didn't remember why I was at Union Station with my camera in July of 2016. I had to search Los Angeles in my Google Photos in the hopes that I had taken some photos with my phone that would help me remember. Sure enough, Randy and I had gone there to watch The Grand Budapest Hotel on top of the Montalban Theater. 

Based on some long exposure shots I took about a year before, I knew that when I shot speed for this challenge, I wanted to do it with a long exposure. This shot may be more motion than speed, but if you've ever been to Union Station, you know that most people there are driven to catch something--some more so than others. If I could go back in time, I would have composed my shot better in order to have the vanishing point be in the actual center. Or I would have paid more attention to that in the editing and cropped it better. At any rate, it just feels good to be working on this project again . . .

A Favorite Element of Your City (July 20, 2016)

When I discovered these shots sitting neatly labeled in my drafts, I knew instantly that this wasn't Rancho Cucamonga. Partly because of the shots that were before and after it, but mostly because Los Angeles remains one of my favorite cities even though I haven't lived there in nearly 20 years. Palm trees against a blue sky are so evocative of Southern California and I love So Cal.

I'm sure I looked like a tourist standing on the corner of Hollywood and Highland to get this shot, but I'm really glad I did because I love that blue sky. When I first learned to shoot in manual, someone told me to make sure that the sky was blue in my shots because no amount of editing could ever bring that back. I have never forgotten that. I keep that tip in mind when shooting outside, and I'm thrilled to see that has paid off. I love the ombre in this shot! Even if I did something in Lightroom to enhance it, the blue sky was there to begin with and I captured it.  

Pattern (July 20, 2016)

Who looks up while "speeding" through Union Station? Apparently, I do. I'm glad I did because I love this photo. I love how I composed (or edited?) it so that everything seems to radiate outward and upward. I love the different lengths of the shapes. I even love how the light decreases as the pattern radiates out. This shot has since become part of my digital footprint. I used Adobe Spark to make it into a header graphic for my professional Twitter account. 

In November of 2015, I bought a set of gallery frames to hang on the wall by my stairs in my condo. It came with super artistic black and white photos, and I remember thinking initially that I would never be able to fill them with photos of my own like that. About two weeks, prior to shooting this, I finally hung some of my own photos in there. I'm proud to say that one of them was from this project and the others were just from other day trips to LA. Most of those have been replaced with family photos (which now need to be updated since our family has grown) but we still have some of the artistic stock photos in two of the frames that are hanging at the end of the hall. As I look back at this photo and some of the others that I have shot, I finally feel like I'm capable of shooting artistic photos of my own.  

Project 52 Work In Progress

 I started my Project 52 back in 2016. As I reflect on when and why I started it and the ways I made it work, I'm excited to get back to it even if it is almost four (4) years later. A lot has changed in my life: I got engaged, sold my condo, moved, got married twice, and had a baby. If you had told me back in 2016 or even 2017, that my camera would sit in my bag for most of these big changes, I probably would have been a little sad and disappointed that I hadn't captured those moments. 

The 2020 me is okay with it though. My self-talk has gotten a lot nicer and I've started to meet and accept myself where I am in so many ways. That is not to say that I won't change anymore. Becoming a wife (again) and a bonus mother changed what I wanted for the future. Progressing through pregnancy and becoming a mother (again) reshaped my life in ways I never imagined for myself. 

As my baby approaches his first birthday and 2020 comes to a maddeningly slow close, I'm hoping to finish this challenge. I am neither the same person nor photographer that I was when I started this project and that's okay. 

Project 52: Shot 29

A Goodbye (July 12, 2016)

If you read this blog post from February, you know that I put Moochie down earlier this year. He was cremated and his ashes were scattered in Point Loma. So when we were in the San Diego area earlier this summer, I wanted to go take some photos of his final resting place and try to get some closure. 

Things didn't start out well. We drove down to some cliffs where the water and waves were crashing and splashing on the rocks. While I love the ocean and admit that this was a spectacular display of its force and power, this was NOT the peaceful resting place that I had envisioned for Moochie. As we moved higher, the sound of the crashing waves diminished but it was replaced by a pretty forceful wind. Again, NOT the image of peace and serenity that I was looking for. 

I actually began to get a little upset at the idea of Moochie--the cat who was fascinated with water until my ex-husband and I tried to give him a bath--being there. It wasn't until we drove a little higher up and climbed two hills that I was finally able to get my shot and find the peace I was looking for. 

What I like about this shot is that you can see the water, but not the waves. I also love the hill and trees. This shot is a little more like what Randy showed me the day we put Moochie down when I asked him what Point Loma was like. Seeing those photos made me feel better about having Moochie's ashes scattered there and taking this shot made me feel the same way.

Project 52: Shots 27 and 28

Tell the Story of a Landscape. Now Put a Person in It. How does the Story Change? (July 3, 2016) 

 

Earlier this summer, the boyfriend and I got in the car and headed for Mt. Baldy. I figured it would be the perfect place to take this set of shots, but I wasn't pleased with any of my landscapes until we pulled off the road and walked (read: slid) down into what I imagine used to be a river or a creek. What I love about the initial "landscape" is that you can see the light at the end of the tunnel created by trees. Once I added the person, the story becomes one of emerging into the light. 

My other attempts at this shot didn't have what I felt were impressive landscapes and then having Randy so close in the foreground lessened the impact  even more. I'm pleased with this final product because the landscape is still telling the story and adding the person doesn't silence or mute it.

Let the Shadows Tell the Story (July 3, 2016)

I have been trying to find shadows that tell a story since May. What I like about these shadows is that they show how the power of light. No matter how tall these trees are, light will always filter through their leaves and illuminate the river or creek that I believe was once here.   

Lego Gone Girly

When I was a little girl, I had--what I believe--was an impressive collection of the Lego Castle system. The bricks were gray and black in--what I imagine--was an attempt to make them look realistic. I LOVED spending an afternoon going through the entire process of building one or more sets. Looking back now, it is possible that I exhibited some OCDish tendencies early on: I would never build a castle until I had first sorted all the bricks. The joy of following the directions to ultimately build the structure was second to the elation I felt after successfully sorting all the bricks into nice, neat, little piles.

In addition to my Castle Lego collection,  I also had a giant blue case that had a random assortment of bricks and people. Basically, I kept all my non-castle Lego sets in there. It was just a hodge-podge mess of green base plates and red, yellow, green, blue, and white bricks. And flowers. (Those Lego flowers really added a little je ne sais quoi to my creations.) 

I have to admit that the first time I saw Lego being marketed to girls, I bristled a little. I didn't need Lego bricks in "girly" colors. Then I saw this:

Initially, I was outraged. Decades of gender-coding have resulted in this Frozen Lego set. Does everything have to be gender-coded? If kids won't play with something because of its color, then there is something wrong with that. And yes, I interpret that as an indicator that we are failing as a society. 

Maybe I'm guilty of it too. For a while I was maintaining two gym bags: A pink one that had my pink and purple gym clothes and a blue one that had my black and blue gym clothes. Each one had Nike tennis shoes that would match everything in the respective bag. In my defense, I never thought of them as my girl and boy bags though. It was just always convenient to work out of one bag each week while washing the clothes in the other. The different-colored bags to match the clothes . . . well, there is a saying that goes "Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world." I say give that girl a matching bag!

That Lego catalog sat on my dining room table for a while and I just kept thinking about it every time I saw it. The more I thought about it though, the more I began to soften and see it differently. I love pink and purple. I didn't as a little girl, but if the woman I am today were a little girl, she would love to have so many colors to choose from in her giant Lego brick. Yes, kids today get to store their Lego bricks in awesome, giant, Lego-shaped boxes. They are so lucky--not just because of their cute, clever storage options, but because they have more colors to choose from when building. As a classroom teacher, I always wanted my kids to have as many options as possible when it came to building their futures. Sadly, I know there is no correlation between the number of Lego color options available and future success. I know that many kids with big dreams today will grow up and still face limited options as they enter adulthood tomorrow. I also know this is especially true for some girls and that breaks my heart.

Today I applaud Lego for what they are doing. "Girls" is now a category on the Lego website. Maybe some cynics out there will see it as a way to increase sales. If pink and purple bricks thrown into the mix, get more girls playing with Lego sets and building, then I'm for it. Why shouldn't a girl have to build her dream house before she plays house? Why should she have to rely on someone (notice I didn't say "man") to give it to her? If building a hair salon inspires a girl to want to run her own business someday, I'm for it. And the White House comes up under the Girls category too. 

Yes! 

If the Frozen set above is the gateway to future building, then I'm for it. Build on, girls. Build on.

Project 52: Shot 26

A Sad Moment You Want to Remember (June 29, 2016)

My grandmother passed away on December 31st, 2015. Those of you who know me well know the role she played in my life and the impact she had on it. We buried her at the beginning of the year and when I started this project, I knew right away that I wanted this shot to somehow be about Mami Tere. I also knew it would probably be my most difficult one--not technically, but emotionally. I haven't been back to her grave since the day we buried her, but I knew I would have to go if I wanted this shot.

I wanted this picture to match the emotion of the moment we buried her, and in my head, I imagined using flowers to create something beautiful and artistic. I chose a small bouquet of roses because Mami Tere would take me to offer flowers to the Virgin Mary when I was a little girl. Unfortunately, one of the first things I noticed when I got to the cemetery is that it didn't look the way I remembered it: the dreariness of that cloudy, winter morning had been replaced by the brightness of a sunny, summer afternoon. As a result, my photos were too bright and too green. My memories of that day are dark and gray so I knew this was going to require some work in Lightroom. My cousin, Alan, had passed along some tips--and I tried them--but I still wasn't getting the effect I wanted. What I wanted was a black and white shot with only the flowers in color. So I Googled it and after watching two videos, this is what I was able to come up with. 

I'm happy with this shot. I feel the black and white captures the sadness of the original moment, and the color represents the love and positive memories that are left behind when someone passes. (Patrick Swayze's words from Ghost in this scene have always brought me comfort regarding that.) There is a good chance I will look back at this shot six months from now and shudder at how bad it is based on my future knowledge and skills, but as I look back at my photos so far, I think it's a good first: my first time knowing how I wanted a shot to ultimately look and being able to achieve that as opposed to just clicking various presets until I find one that makes me say "I think that looks good. I'll do that."

You may or may not have noticed the number of this shot: 26. I'm halfway done with my challenge!

And in case you're wondering where I got the flowers . . . I went to the Urban Florist on Mountain, and I wouldn't include a link if I wasn't happy with their service. =)