Shannon Reed

Sometimes I wonder whether or not it's a good idea to share my vulnerabilities here, but I think I'd like to remember certain things down the road that I might otherwise forget, so...

I've mentioned that 2014 was not a good year for me, artistically speaking.  I felt dry and void of anything even remotely hitting a creative nerve.  I met Callie and was certain that she was my muse and I think I was subconsciously looking to her to sort of pull me out of my funk. Obviously that's not the job of a muse.  In fact, a muse has no job - she (or he) just gets to be - gets to inspire simply by existing.  

I kept thinking, "Why isn't this working?!"  I felt broken and discouraged - it was pretty damn depressing.  I've been moving some files around this week - archiving and whatnot - and came across some of the work Callie and I did together last spring/summer and can see something that I really rather like and feel connected to now that I wasn't able to see before.  

It's no secret that what we feel on the inside eventually manifests itself in some manner, shape, or form.  I can look at the pictures I've made and know exactly what I was feeling when I took them. Everyone I've photographed in the name of creativity or art has been instrumental in that manifestation piece, so, I see these images above of Callie - both swimmy and unclear (as well as reflective, and trapped, and stuck, and and and...) and, well, that's exactly how I was feeling at the time.  It's (almost) never intentional when that happens, and most times I'm not even aware that it's happening. Only later (sometimes, much later) can I see the correlation.  Makes for some good "a-ha" moments, that's for sure. ")

Callie has moved off to Canada to realize her dreams, but I offer bucketfuls of belated gratitude for what she gave me here; it turns out she was the perfectly perfect muse after all.