Diary of a piglet

I've had a hard time finding the words to genuinely describe meeting the ladies that make up When Pigs Fly.  I'm always left speechless. A month ago, our family drove to Astoria for the opening of When Pigs Fly at the Lightbox Photographic Gallery.  I had modest exceptions of meeting the ladies whose work I've poured over, admired and followed.  This fine art world is just revealing itself to me and I felt like the new kid at the first day of school.  It was intimidating, but a persistent voice urged me forward.  I merely wanted to appreciate their work in person.  Perhaps I would meet them, and if I was really lucky, hopefully take a nugget of information home with me.  That all quickly changed.

As we walked to the gallery, I heard Ann yell "There she is! Come over here, we want to meet you!"   I looked around and behind me, sure she couldn't be talking to me.  Yet, she was.  They had seen me carrying my film camera at the hotel and wanted to meet the fellow film photographer.  A fellow film photographer.  This is where my words stall.  To them, I was a fellow film photographer.  To me, they were my path.  I've searched my entire life for something to calm the burning in my heart.  Photography waters that fire.  I found it not long ago and am still carving my way.  When I look at their work, I am awed and, in some respects, envious. Their voice as artists echoes loud and clear.  I tried to soak it all in.  I let myself feel insecure, giddy, joyful and humbled.  As we talked, I was overwhelmed by their openness and generosity.  This only grew when they invited me to come shoot with them the next day.  There it was; the reason why I listened to that voice.

The next day Michael took us out to one of the only structures remaining on the water in Astoria.  It's a treasure land around every corner.  We shot, played, enjoyed the views and I tried to keep both feet on the ground while secretly (or not) elated inside.

They are beautiful, insanely gifted, funny as hell, naughty, kind and now, friends of mine.  They gave me a gift I will always hold dear.  Although my journey is just beginning, and at times my voice is shaky, I'm on the path and will one day fly like the pigs.

Thank you a million times over Judy, Lori, Ann, Gayle, Anne, Heidi and Michael.

Love, your piglet.