Nana's Birthday, Always in August

Every year we travel to our hometown of Charlottesville, Virginia to celebrate my mom's birthday - we eat, drink, play and just do our thing. I kept my camera close, maybe too close. And this Christmas Eve, we watched our slideshow together for the first time: arms locked and tears dripping.

Oh and it's long and full of John Denver who bounced off our walls before we could walk. So, please watch with a full glass of wine.

Abrazos fuertes, Elena

http://www.vimeo.com/9651181

Promises, Promises

Sometimes, I’ll do just about anything to quell a crying child. And this fall between the hours of 6:30 and 6:45pm, while on the phone with my weeping girls, I promised to take them apple picking, to make a pie, that I’d arrive home in five minutes with an ice cream cake and then read four books each at bedtime. This phenomenon is very similar to the spewing that someone does just before they are about to get shot in the movies.

And later in the week, while doing a Farewell to Boston shoot with the Novack Family, I saw a pattern as I told little Henry that a purple butterfly would come out of my lens, to get on the big duck sculpture before he waddled away…. I stopped myself just before I promised that he would be accepted to Harvard if he gave me one last smile.

I made some mental notes: not all children are as gullible as my own, some remember promises however small and some, like Henry, are way too sharp to follow a silly photographer’s antics. So we just relaxed, absorbed the sun, wandered, fed the ducks, read a book on the bench, kicked back in the grass, chatted with a policeman on horseback, got chased by some geese and ran around in circles. It was just my kind of day.

Thank you Novack family for spending the day with me. I wish you a wonderful new life in Miami and hope that these images will help you remember this nice chapter in your life.

So that’s all for now. We’re heading out to go apple picking. Really, we are. I promise. Next year.

Not Waking Up

To a fault, I’m a dreamer, even when it comes to photo shoots. Once I pencil in a shoot, I quickly begin to imagine the possibilities…big rays of sunlight streaming through trees and landing softly diffused onto faces, relaxed, natural expressions (an invisible camera), treasure hunts for little creatures that we actually find, wide-eyes waving me into little worlds. Oh, please you sound ridiculous. It’s not that I ever expect to accomplish any of this, it’s just that when I drive to each shoot, I’m pumped with the adrenaline of what could be (I can’t help it). And that is what I was daydreaming about on my way to visit the Ruttger family who I hadn’t seen in one year since our last shoot on Duxbury beach.

We reconnected quickly and warmed ourselves up with some tame, sunroom photos and then took the party outside to find a new spot. When I heard about their hammock in the woods, we quickly aborted the grassy lawn and bushwhacked our way along the path to find streams of light pouring through the trees and a hammock located in a small clearing. Score. Jackpot. Score. Okay, calm down. Big brother, Griffin, now my new BFF, was all about climbing in and listening to the trees creak. We considered the possibility that the noises were monkeys and if we were still, we could hear them. That’s when the shutter started to click madly and I found myself straddling a small pine tree. We nuzzled 3-month old Nolan in who was so comfortable that he continued his nap in the crook of Griffin’s arm. Soon enough, it was the whole family suspended quietly in the hammock below the creaking trees. I don’t care how silly I look on this pine tree; I’m taking more.

Back inside, our next mission was to get a few shots of baby Nolan in all of his folded baby glory. He was so relaxed and easy that we decided to play with some props, an antique French bread bowl and some hand-knitted hats and blankets. Just as we were getting comfortable snapping the baby-in-the-bread-bowl shots, mommy Trish and I both dodged a fountain of you-guessed-it that went arcing straight up into the air missing the camera and us by fractions. You really know nothing about boys. After laughing off our near miss, we took the queue and called it quits.

And so logs a new entry into the Daydreaming Photographers Field Guide and all thanks to the lovely Ruttger Family. Dream on.

Seeing the Light with Zack Arias

Somewhere between ZZ Top and a big teddy bear stood our muse for the weekend in NYC, the talented Zack Arias. Zack is well known for his music photography and now, with his national sold-out OneLight workshop tour, he’s mastering a new title by guiding others to see and to make the light.

On the first day of the workshop, which was hosted in the super cavernously-cool Bond Street Studio in Brooklyn, twelve curious and/or confused light-minded subjects, including my co-goer photographer-friend, Carolyn Aeschilman, met Zack and his team in the morning for bagels and coffee (from Starbucks by request – thank you Zack). If you’ve seen the OneLight trailer, you know that Zack will go for as long as it takes to answer everyone’s questions even if it’s until 2am, but because we were limited to cutting the lights at midnight, he wasted no time launching into the fundamentals so that we could get our cameras out and begin shooting. And sprinkled in between strobes, umbrellas, soft boxes, grid spots, radio triggers, exposure, inverse square laws and light fall off were some equally, if not more important, messages. One that stopped me in my tracks was that “many people will choose photography, but not everyone will be chosen by photography.”

Damn it Zack, couldn’t you have just let me bask in my euphoria with a long wish list of the hottest new gear that would change my life? I chose photography because I love it and feel that I might perish without it, but would I be chosen? It made too much sense. Who wouldn’t like to become a photographer? Who wouldn’t want to gear up, explore and capture the beautiful world around them? Creativity is limitless, learning is endless, camaraderie among photographers is magical and getting that perfectly-lit, composed shot can be as exhilarating as the first time you shimmied up to the top of the tire swing with your parents clapping down below. Ecstasy and magic aside, he’s right; to take photography beyond the hobby, you have to embrace and master many things: technology, patience, people of all kinds, faith (in yourself and beyond), knowledge of what truly moves you, discipline, resistance to buy too many $2k lenses (or to be your own accountant) and the list goes on. I have great admiration for my fellow photographers because I now know what goes on behind the picture. At one point, I might have believed that it just took passion, creativity and a pile of gear to choose photography as a career. But, I now know that it’s so much more than seeing and making the light in your pictures. Let’s just call it seeing the light beyond them. So along with a number of stars aligning, I’m out for now to work on making that happen.

Thank you to Zack for revealing more than just strobe light and peace to all of you photographers who give and share so generously to help others find their way.

{To see more of Zack’s work or attend/purchase the OneLight DVD: www.zackarias.com www.onelightworkshop.com or read his blog http://www.zarias.com/}

Thank a Thief

There are some places where people will ask you what you do and others where it’s more natural to ask, “what do you like to do?” But no matter where you live, it’s a noble exercise to dig deep, pull out your authentic self and sing loud enough for the world to hear.

Paulo Coelho, in his beautiful book, The Alchemist, wrote, “when you really want something to happen, the whole universe conspires so that your wish comes true.” And in some cases, the conspiracy may come when you’re least expecting it. Such is the case with Seventh Room, a band of four who ripped through the stages of Boston hard-rockin’ it for seven golden years in the mid 90s. Those boys lived their dream until the what-do-you-do duty called. So they hung it up and became professional craftsmen and engineers until one day they found their old recording studio pilfered, their music pirated and their past uploaded to My Space by a group thieving fans.

That Stone Age whack-over-the-head sent them back to the stage with new material and a fresh sense of purpose. After all, who could ignore such a sign? Leading the quartet is songwriter-guitarist, Rob Foley accompanied by guitarist Paul Mangiaratti, base player Ian Cariolo and drummer, Mike Dwyer. Their sounds err on the modern hard rock side with a 70s twist. To dish it straight, they just rock , as muscians and as people. No worries if you missed them at Copperfields, Church of Boston or Gillette Stadium this spring, the boys of Seventh Room will come back out of their recording hiatus to bang out freshly-recorded tunes in the fall. Stay tuned for upcoming shows at www.seventhroom.com Cds are still available for purchase on their website.

Now, back to where we started in doing what you like to do. We all either pursue it, quietly hope for it or just stumble upon it. It’s a luxury, a gift, sometimes a way. In the case of Seventh Room, it’s the only way. So believe in thy bad self, spot the signs, have some faith even if you have to thank a thief who cracked your code.

{Rock on boys – thank you for letting me shoot you in all of your glory}

Baring It All

Hmm, let's see. White polo with khakis? Uh, too roasted-marshmallow. Blue Gingham with a touch of navy? Not until he goes to Harvard. Denim overalls with white socks? Whoa, we’re way too far north for that. Fisherman knit? Not bad, but it’s too hot. Red Sox shirt? Oh, please no. Crew neck? Button down? Onesie? Pjs? What else we got? As we pored through Shane’s clothes, he sat there with his big, blue eyes, cherub-rounded cheeks, perfect folds, pooches, dimples. There it was staring us in the face, just Shane baring it all. We (he) had it all along. So, not to leave a fold unturned, we even took off the diaper. For those long, naked hours, he cooed, rolled, smiled, scooched, chewed as we clicked and ga-gaaed at him. We came away with some images almost as perfect as little Shane, but more importantly, the reminder to simply show the true you, to bare it all. You dig? Right on. Now give me some skin.

A Mother at Rest

Stravin Family 2009
Originally uploaded by Elena Gormley

Oh Trisha, O Trisha
What can I say?
How do you do it?
Can you show me the way?

Your girls are so precious, all pink and aglow,
Let the photos tell that story, but there’s a secret I have to know.

There’s some magic hidden within this motherly nest,
It’s not in those photos, the smiles or the pink dress.

To witness it up close is a picture of awe,
And you don’t need a camera to see what I saw.

With grace, a calm heart and a nice gentle stride,
You’re a mother at rest, deep down inside.

And I thank you for sharing not only your girls, who take from you the fair skin, a freckle and some curls.

But today what I took was a lesson for me.
If I had to name it, I’d call it “just be.”

Day with the Thorns

Thorn Family 2009
Originally uploaded by Elena Gormley

Camera? Check. Lenses? Check. Fresh batteries? Check. Blankets, flower petals, silly props just in case? Check. Sun? Not going to happen. Woo? Got it.

Of course, because I was on a mission last Saturday morning to see the Thorn Sisters for the first time since our photo shoot last summer on the beach. With all signs pointing to go - quivering bottom lips in, new-girl-in-the-house-with-camera accepted and sun (finally) pouring through the windows - we hunted for treasures room by room and surfaced with more gems than expected along with a new definition of the color blue. I could have stared those eyes all day. Forget it Crayola, that color's taken, but feel free to enjoy it in the images below.

Thank you to the lovely Thorn family for a wonderful Saturday morning.

The Sun is Setting

When I was about ten years old, I was out on an adventure with three of my best friends, Compton, Beth and Muffy. We had woven our way up hills, through creeks, into backyards, under trees, but it was late and we were all standing on the top of steep hill panicked as we looked up at the sky. We must have been at least a mile away from Compton’s house where we had to be by dinner time. Those were really the days. We could wander aimlessly for hours anywhere – no cell phones, watches or fenced in yards. Rules were pretty simple – be back before dark. But if you couldn’t follow that simple rule, you know…it just wasn’t good.

We had two bikes and there were four of us. We stared into the sky and concocted our plan. My designated spot was on the handle bars and my answer was, “no way.” The last time I rode with Compton, it was on a ride-on tractor and she rode us up a tree flipping the tractor (thanks Compton). For the next hour, all I can remember was, “Elena, the sun is setting!” Compton was shaking her arm up to the sky, Beth way lying on the ground knowing I wasn’t going to budge. They all stomped, waved and yelled, “The sun is setting, Elena,” but true to character, I didn’t budge.

We all walked home that day and we all got into major trouble. Lucky for me, they are still my best friends.

So at the last photography meeting when our group leader asked for those of us who didn’t have a blog to raise our hands and then asked, just out of curiosity, “why not?” I watched her mouth the words, but all I heard was, “Elena, the sun is setting!” Before I could uncross my arms and exclaim, “I’m not riding on the handle bars!” I realized there was no reason to resist anymore, that I just needed to climb on and take a spin.

So welcome to my blog. I’m now a blogger. I’ll be blogging about photography, nonsense, life, inspiration, stuff I think you need, who knows, but for now, I’ve got to go, the sun is setting.