I've been working on a project, photographing sleeping sea lions.
The accompanying text for this project is as follows:
"Sea lions, when awake, can often seem like extraordinarily temperamental and unwarrantedly vicious animals toward their peers. They often attack each other for seemingly the slightest infractions; for example, I often see them chomp into each other's sides, leaving bloody wounds and permanent scars, apparently just to get one to scoot aside so that the other may more easily move past. Seemingly almost every encounter leads to a baring of fangs, barking and growling, snapping and striking; and they are covered with scars and open wounds, almost entirely caused by each other. Their bellicosity seems endless.
Except when they sleep. They all press together, and it's a magical phenomenon to behold. They sleep with anybody and everybody. They press into each other and make a solid carpet, so tight that no ground is visible between them. They pile on top of each other, sometimes three or four deep. They press their bodies together in the most intimate ways, face to face, face to crotch, face to belly, face to flipper anything and everything. They let their bodies be the beds and pillows for each other. They do this regardless of age or sex or relation, including with strangers, and including those whom they heatedly fought, moments ago. They hold each other tenderly, caress each other, cuddle and snuggle and nuzzle each other as close as they can, seemingly relishing close contact without boundaries. They let go of their hostilities, let go their grievances, and find peace and comfort, if just for a little while.
It inspires me and comforts me to see this. It gives me hope that kindness and tenderness toward each other always remain possible, that reconciliation can be achieved under even the most extreme circumstances, that the good still can always out."
I was already working on this project before a year ago; I've been intending to make it into an exhibit/show and eventually into a book.
Last year, this project transformed into something more meaningful and personal for me. I had a sudden, devastating loss of a relationship. I was profoundly heartbroken, and I channeled all of my unfulfilled expressions of love, all of my yearning for reconciliation, all of my hope that goodness can somehow still come through, and all of my need for solace, into this photo project, with the hope that it would be possible to touch the heart of my lost love.
It did not touch her heart. As I came to learn, it is not in any way possible to touch her heart, because she has no heart.
Nonetheless, this project, and what went into it, lead me to come to understand who I am as an artist, lead me to come to discover my artistic voice, and discover what I want to express, and how I want to express it. It has also lead me to the creation of (in my opinion) some of my strongest work.
While this body of work did not touch the intended recipient, it has truly touched some other people. For those of you who like wildlife photography, I hope you enjoy it.
The accompanying text for this project is as follows:
"Sea lions, when awake, can often seem like extraordinarily temperamental and unwarrantedly vicious animals toward their peers. They often attack each other for seemingly the slightest infractions; for example, I often see them chomp into each other's sides, leaving bloody wounds and permanent scars, apparently just to get one to scoot aside so that the other may more easily move past. Seemingly almost every encounter leads to a baring of fangs, barking and growling, snapping and striking; and they are covered with scars and open wounds, almost entirely caused by each other. Their bellicosity seems endless.
Except when they sleep. They all press together, and it's a magical phenomenon to behold. They sleep with anybody and everybody. They press into each other and make a solid carpet, so tight that no ground is visible between them. They pile on top of each other, sometimes three or four deep. They press their bodies together in the most intimate ways, face to face, face to crotch, face to belly, face to flipper anything and everything. They let their bodies be the beds and pillows for each other. They do this regardless of age or sex or relation, including with strangers, and including those whom they heatedly fought, moments ago. They hold each other tenderly, caress each other, cuddle and snuggle and nuzzle each other as close as they can, seemingly relishing close contact without boundaries. They let go of their hostilities, let go their grievances, and find peace and comfort, if just for a little while.
It inspires me and comforts me to see this. It gives me hope that kindness and tenderness toward each other always remain possible, that reconciliation can be achieved under even the most extreme circumstances, that the good still can always out."
I was already working on this project before a year ago; I've been intending to make it into an exhibit/show and eventually into a book.
Last year, this project transformed into something more meaningful and personal for me. I had a sudden, devastating loss of a relationship. I was profoundly heartbroken, and I channeled all of my unfulfilled expressions of love, all of my yearning for reconciliation, all of my hope that goodness can somehow still come through, and all of my need for solace, into this photo project, with the hope that it would be possible to touch the heart of my lost love.
It did not touch her heart. As I came to learn, it is not in any way possible to touch her heart, because she has no heart.
Nonetheless, this project, and what went into it, lead me to come to understand who I am as an artist, lead me to come to discover my artistic voice, and discover what I want to express, and how I want to express it. It has also lead me to the creation of (in my opinion) some of my strongest work.
While this body of work did not touch the intended recipient, it has truly touched some other people. For those of you who like wildlife photography, I hope you enjoy it.
