Pushing Past 2021
My son (7) in virtual school in my office, Ottawa, 2021.
I’m breathing differently this week. It’s my first week working without children interrupting me in 549 days. Today I reflected on the road ahead and the road left behind. The past year-and-a-half was rough.
The road ahead, does it involve photography? I have had this thought many times in the past 20 years. Working in a creative field means stumbling into roadblocks. It’s not a stabile job, mostly a never-ending hustle, but the job-satisfaction is immense and hard to give up.
Every time I hit a wall I take a look backward, both far back and not so far back. When I look far back I see a 20-year career built on the tiniest bricks. No big boulders, no shortcuts, just brick by brick, image by image, job by job until the foundation I’m standing on felt steady enough to make some leaps. I’m a tortoise and at times it’s felt like I wasn’t going anywhere. Taking a minute to reflect I can see that every single thing has moved me forward, wether it is a personal milestone or a professional win, they all add up.
Graduation ceremony at University Of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, 2006. Photographed for the Norwegian business paper Dagens Næringsliv.
My three kids watching my husband graduate with a PhD in Biology, Vancouver 2019. Photographed for my own joy.
Today I’ve spent the day thinking about what this year brought, this 2021 that fed on the anxiety and shattered expectations that was 2020. It’s been easy to fall into the well of disappointments and grief, and while I’m giving those two all the space they want in my life right now, I wanted to put all my wins out into one place. Because this year wasn’t just a slowing business, a string of constant interruptions, family loss, health loss and an overwhelm I haven’t ever felt before. This year was also a bunch of small wins. Here are some:
I’ve taught 45 women. I have had the privilege of watching them make some groundbreaking work for themselves, and they have filled my bucket in the process. Teaching gives me a sense of purpose, it brings me joy and being of service is my best place to be.
I was accepted as a member of Women Photograph.
I won an honorable mention in the Julia Margaret Cameron awards in both the Children Series and the Children Singles categories.
I got two of my images featured in Too Tired Project’s online show Winter.
I got one of my images featured in the group show Maternochronics.
A series of images made from my office window about how the pandemic has me working on the weekends was exhibited in a group show in my homeland of Norway. It could be seen by family and friends I can’t see myself.
I asked a publisher I admire to publish a book with me, she accepted and it is expected to come out in 2022.
Last week the Norwegian arts foundation, Fritt Ord, gave me a grant to help publish this book.
While so much of the past 18 months felt as if I was stuck in the Doldurms, the past nine offered up quite a few small wins. New bricks to add to the foundation of my photographic practice, helping me grow and evolve further into this craft I love so much.
I hit a wall every few years in this profession. The kind of existential wall where I think: Why am I still doing this? Why am I still pursuing a craft that is so saturated, so hard to survive in and so unstable?
The answer is usually pretty simple: Because I love it and I’ve been lucky. I’ve been able to make it work. As long as I can make it work, I’ll keep doing it.
Tell me about your year! The hard parts and the good parts. Did you hit a wall?