Getting my hands dirty makes me a better photographer.

In clay, in mud, in soil. Building something, growing something. 

I haven’t done much of the latter lately but the feeling is similar. Whenever my hands are in the earth, I feel the most at peace. There’s science to that.

I’ve discovered the beautiful balance between having a creative practice that is tactile and led by the body versus one that is led by the mind. Tactile creativity taps into intuition in such a different way than photography does. I simply let my hands and the clay guide the outcome. In turn, my mind becomes a buzzing source of white noise, hopping from one thought to the next but rarely lingering longer than necessary. The next thing I know, the clay is forming into a curving vase right before my eyes. 

I first experienced this with polymer clay back when I made jewelry a few years ago. The way my mind went into meditation while my hands created. It was a kind of bliss I didn’t know existed. But something felt off for me. It was the medium. The elastic plastic “clay” dyed all the artificial colors of a candy store. When I started pottery, that missing piece that ultimately made me leave polymer clay, clicked right into place. “Ah, I knew it.” I thought. 

Soon enough I found my groove, I learned the clay. What an honor. How she moved and formed and dried. How she cracked and warped and wobbled. It really is the art of noticing - an “art” I likely developed as a trauma response at a young age. I’ve always been the observant type, for better or for worse. In art, in nature, it’s surely for the better.

When my hands are in clay, in mud, in dirt, I slow the fuck down and listen. It’s that slowing down and tapping into all the senses that then translates to better intentionality when I pick up my camera. Photography is often very cerebral for me. I can get lost in the tangle of thoughts and ideas and imaginations of how to create the scene, and realistically they could go on endlessly. I’ve come to learn that I always instinctively KNOW when to press that shutter and when not to. A practice of tapping into intuition in other creative areas, only makes my photographic intuition that much stronger. 

Every creative practice in my life informs and inspires one another. They are intertwined. Photography is a constant, as it’s now my full time job, but I allow it to always change shape. My other practices dance and flow in and out of my life when it feels right, creating this beautiful, juicy, balanced creative life.