Story telling – Page 5 – Journeys of a Hybrid

March 24, 2014March 24, 2014

Connections

clem and kennedy — Clem Taylor (background) with Ted Kennedy, early in Clem’s career.

I lost a good friend this week, Clem Taylor. The world lost a “good” man and a great storyteller. Clem was an award-winning producer for 60 Minutes, no doubt his dream job. Clem loved “the news” and he loved “the story” and had a long and rewarding career in broadcast journalism. Looking around the room yesterday, at an overflowing crowd of people, I saw many icons of the industry. It was like the “who’s who in broadcast news”. Clem’s stories have touched millions of people over the years. He was a connector of people and a curious lover of life. His life threw a large net.

I’ve known Clem for over 40’s years. There aren’t many people in my life that I’ve known as long as Clem. Clem was a family friend of Tom’s from Doylestown, PA. I met him in the early ‘70’s, when was I was living in Santa Barbara, California. Tom’s brother Tim had driven out to the West Coast with Clem and his BC college buddy, Steve Kolbe during spring break one year. We always stayed in touch with Clem, he made sure of it, and my mind is full of memories of the times that I got to spend with him. He always brought a smile to my face.

In a way, meeting Clem was a huge twist of fate in my life and Tom’s and it led to the “big break” in our careers. When we moved back to the East Coast after graduating from Brooks, Clem connected us with his father, Adrian Taylor. Adrian had also just gone “back East” after living in the San Francisco area and working as an art director in advertising. He had taken a job as art director of Travel & Leisure Magazine in New York City and Clem, knowing that Tom and I wanted to shoot for magazines, made the connection happen. That connection changed the course of our lives in a richly rewarding way. With Adrian’s encouragement and his willingness to take a chance on two young kids straight out of school, we learned and grew under his mentorship. That first meeting with Clem was a fateful day.

The thing is, what I remember most about Clem is that I always had a good time with him. He was fun to be around and incredibly interesting to have a conversation with. I have a lot of memories of Clem that have accumulated over the years but it’s the simple and sometimes silly ones that seem to surface in my head. But isn’t that what life is made of – the everyday moments? Clem knew that and his stories reflected that.

As I get older, I realize that life is all about our connections with people. Some of our connections may be short lived and some may last through the years, but I’m sure that each person who enters our lives is meant to play their part. Yesterday, I saw a lot of old friends who I hadn’t seen in decades. We all “caught up” on those missing decades and shared regret on letting the years slip by. But we shared a connection through Clem and always will.

The last line in one of my favorite movies, It’s a Wonderful Life, is a quote by Mark Twain: “No man is a failure who has friends”. Clem, you’ve got George Bailey beat as the “richest man in town”.

March 14, 2014

Commitment

Commitment is everything. It’s what makes us get things done. It’s what makes relationships work.

Gail in bamboo hut in hill tribe village, northern Thailand

It’s what makes us not give up, no matter how bleak it may look at times. It’s what gets us to stay focused on “the story” and be true to ourselves.

To some people, commitment can be frightening. Their heads are filled with negative “what if” thoughts of failure that hold them back. So, they plod along through life letting things happen to them instead of going after what they want. Those are the people who let resistance win.

I’ve always been a determined and committed person – if I say I’m going to do something, you can count on me to do it. It’s tough sometimes though, to stay committed to myself and to what my true purpose is – it’s far too easy to get caught up with the regular flow of work and life. But every now and then I get an idea for a creative project that just won’t go away. When I finally decide to stop ignoring the idea and do something, I have a mechanism I use to help me make the commitment – I tell someone about it. I’m the type of person that feels, once I’ve told someone I’m going to do something, then I have to do it – just to save face. I call it “forced accountability.”

Seth Godin writes today about commitment: “One way to play in the digital age is to appeal to those that browse, the window shoppers, the mass audience that can’t and won’t commit. The alternative is to focus on impact, not numbers and impact comes from commitment. “ He says: “ price is more than an exchange of coins. Price is a story.” Essentially, Godin is saying that in our noisy digital world, where ideas and content are free – we’ve got to be better, to make an impact. In order to connect with the buyers on an emotional level, we’ve got to be “better than free”.

Every commitment that I’ve ever made has come with tremendous personal growth. When I traveled around the world a couple of years ago making a feature length documentary, Opening Our Eyes, I not only challenged myself physically and creatively, but spiritually as well and I feel that I became a better person because of it. I would not have been able to endure the hardships of that journey, nor the intense workload of post production had I not been committed to the idea.

What are you willing to commit to? Commitment may be frightening, but without it, you may be spending your later years wondering, “what if I had”

February 24, 2014February 24, 2014

How to Sustain a Long Career in Photography

I came across this old “tear sheet” in the process of cleaning out the attic. Tom and I have dozens of boxes containing over 35 years of printed collateral with our “work” in it.

This brochure cover was from a shoot for I Love NY. Clearly it was a low budget job, based on the fact that we were also the “talent” in our own photograph. When this photo was shot, we were just starting out in the business of photography. It’s hard to believe that it’s been over 35 years since we started Kelly/Mooney Photography, because it seems like yesterday. As I sifted through decades of work, I started thinking – “What is it that sustains a career?”

Some thoughts:

Don’t let age define you. Let’s face it; we’re a youth obsessed culture. It’s not easy getting older, especially when you’re in a creative business like photography where “fresh” is equated with “young”. But there’s absolutely nothing you can do about your age. You can’t change it. It’s like your height – it is what it is. But you can choose how you think about it. If you tell yourself that you’re old – you will be.

Take more risks – not less. Why not? What is the worst that could happen? Am I the only one who thinks this way? I guess I was lucky that my mom and dad put those types of thoughts in my head a long time ago and they’ve served me well. Why should I change my outlook now, when I have fewer years on the planet?

You’ll fail more than you succeed. I sure have. In the last couple of years I’ve been rejected more times than not, but only because I have been challenging myself more than at any other time in my career. I have always “been on the move” in my life and my career and I am not one to stay too complacent or static. There are just too many things left to explore.

Fear comes with the territory. Fear is what motivated me to start writing. For me fear would often visit in the wee small hours of the morning. My mind would bounce from one unfounded worry to another and I couldn’t turn off the chaos in my head. So rather than toss and turn for hours, I got out of bed and started to write down my thoughts. It’s amazing how trivial some of the worries looked in the light of the day, written on a sheet of paper.

Listen to the ideas that don’t go away. We all have ideas. But how many of us act on them? Less than 5%. When I have an idea that just won’t “quit me”, I take action. The first thing I do is I commit to the idea. Then I tell someone – someone I respect, because then I have to carry it out – just to save face. I call it forced accountability.

Don’t take things for granted. Nothing stays the same or lasts forever. Be grateful for your loyal clients and show your gratitude. Business is all about relationships and it is amazing how people seem to pop in and out of your life. Doors are always closing and windows are eternally opening in a well-lived life. Recognize those times when they happen.

Always wonder. My spirit has not aged past 25 years old. I still have dreams and they are vivid and real in my mind. My dreams are propelled by my insatiable curiosity about everything. Many years ago I made the choice to become a professional photographer because I knew that my camera would give me access to a rich and rewarding life and to interesting people, places and cultures. My cameras (“my tools”) are still a means to a life of wonderment.

February 4, 2014

How This Beatlemanic Became a Photographer

It’s hard to believe it’s been almost 50 years since I took these pictures off of our TV screen. I remember that night like it was yesterday, in vivid detail.

The Beatles had just come to America for the first time, and I was counting down the days until they were scheduled to appear on the Ed Sullivan Show. I had been soaking up every bit of news about the Beatles all week. In those days that meant listening to the radio as DJ’s gave a blow-by-blow account of what those “crazy lads from Liverpool” were doing.

My family and I were living in Rochester, NY at the time. I was not quite a teenager, and it was the very first time I fell in love. First with Paul, because he was the cutest and non-threatening. Later with John, because he was a bit rebellious and he appealed to the adventurous part of me that was emerging.

The day the Beatles were to appear on the Ed Sullivan Show just dragged by. Dinner was particularly excruciating and each minute seemed like an hour. My sister and I had commandeered the TV set and no one was getting near it to change the channel. It was a black & white set – a color TV was prohibitively expensive in those days. I don’t remember who had the idea to take pictures that night but luckily we had some film in the Instamatic. I took just four shots that night. It was the end of the roll and each click was precious and I remember waiting for the right moments.

I can see by the date stamps on the prints (March 1964), that it took us a month to get the film developed. That was record speed for my family. We usually had a year’s worth of holiday pictures on one roll of film when we dropped it off at the drug store for processing. Luckily the film in the camera was at the end of the roll that evening – otherwise it may have taken months to see photos.

I pasted those photos into my scrapbook almost 50 years ago and they’ve been there ever since, along with my other Beatle memorabilia including my ticket for their performance at Shea Stadium in 1966. We had moved to the NYC area about a year after I shot these photos, and I actually got to see the Beatles perform twice at Shea – ’65 and ’66.

As I look back at that night on February 9, 1964, I can see where my passion for recording moments in history came from and I’ve been photographing them ever since.

January 6, 2014

Letting Go

This past weekend our film, Opening Our Eyes, had its premiere in New York City. We have been in dozens of film festivals and events all over the world but for whatever insignificant reasons, we had never screened in New York. I think of NYC as my “hometown”, even though I have never lived inside “the city”. It’s where many of our friends, clients and colleagues are and it has been our “home base” for over 35 years.

Despite the fact that the temperatures were in the single digits and there had been a major snowstorm the night before, so many of our oldest and dearest friends, along with some new ones, showed up. Even Nisha, a young Nepalese girl who is in the movie – came out on that cold night. I have been in front of many audiences over the years and have enjoyed it immensely, but I can honestly say that this was the most meaningful experience I’ve ever had. To be able to share my film – a body of work that I put a lot of hard work, heart and soul into – with my peers and people I’ve known since my beginnings, was pure joy.

In a way, the night brought things full circle in regards to the film. A lot of filmmakers “open” or premiere in their hometowns. Once again, I did things a little backwards, by “closing” in my home turf, as this may be the film’s last festival screening. I don’t have plans to pursue more festivals – but I never know what’s lies ahead, in the way of opportunities, and am open to possibilities. This project and this journey have rewarded me in hundreds of ways and no doubt will continue to enrich my life. The film will still be available for screenings at educational venues and community events. It’s also available on DVD and streaming. My daughter, Erin and I made this film to inspire and motivate others to create positive change in our world, and we hope that message continues to spread globally.

A young filmmaker I met at one of the festivals I attended told me, “a filmmaker never finishes a film – he(she) just knows when to let go.” I am able to “let go”, because I know that this experience has set the stage for the next events in my life.

“Everyone has Oceans to fly, if they have the Heart to do it. Is it reckless? Maybe. But what do dreams know of boundaries?”

– Amelia Earhart

December 10, 2013December 10, 2013

The Advantages of a Disadvantage

My gang of friends. I'm on the top step. — One of my early childhood tribes, Rochester, NY (I’m on top step)

I re-connected with an old friend last week. We hadn’t seen each other in 43 years! Other than my family members, I have known this friend longer than anyone else in my life, except for one other. But we hadn’t been in contact with each other, until a few months ago. We’ve had a wonderful exchange of emails and a bit of serendipity that led to an in person reunion. It’s been a cathartic experience for both of us.

We were teenagers, who used to “hang out” together. We went to different schools and we lived in different neighborhoods but for a couple of quick years, he, I and a few other friends, hung out together, on the warm spring and summer evenings of our youth. Until I moved…..again. It was probably the tenth time that I had moved and changed schools, and I was only 16 years old and mid-way through my junior year of high school. I suppose you could say that I had lived the life of a rolling stone. But it was what I knew. In one of our dialogs, I reminded him about that move, and he looked at it, as tragic.

In a way, I suppose growing up in a transient lifestyle was a bit tragic. Just when I would make friends, and feel like I was part of my “new school”, we would move again, to a new community. My dad was climbing the “corporate ladder” and with each promotion came a series of moves. I was the perpetual “new kid” and I guess I was always in search of a “new tribe”. I grew up, a product of change.

I recently finished reading Malcom Gladwell’s new book, “David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits and the Art of Battling Giants”. He talks about people who have turned the disadvantages that they’ve had in their lives, into advantages. Each chapter unfolds into a story about a highly successful person who had to overcome obstacles or disadvantages in their lives – everything from losing a parent to being dyslexic. One example Gladwell cites is about a high profile Hollywood producer who had worked his way from his impoverished beginnings to fame and fortune. His children had everything, but he was worried about their future. He knew that if they didn’t have to “work” for something, they wouldn’t know the feeling of accomplishment and success. They would not have the “advantage” that he had growing up, the advantage of being poor.

I realized after reading Gladwell’s book that what I might have looked at as a disadvantage, my nomadic life, was probably the biggest advantage I had. It has made me take chances in my life and not be afraid to initiate an interaction. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have made friends. It made me love school because I knew that was where I would connect to people in my new community. I learned to adapt to change. If I didn’t I would have been miserable all the time or afraid – or both. Instead, I have lived my life, continually exploring my curiosities, whether it is visiting a foreign country, embarking on a new creative project or expanding my craft.

Would I have wished my nomadic life on my daughter? Probably not, it wasn’t easy. But it certainly had its rewards.

October 28, 2013October 28, 2013

The Value of Photography

The who’s who of photography gathered last night, at Carnegie Hall to honor the “masters” of their trade at the Lucie Awards. The Lucies are like the Oscars of the “photographic industry”.

2013 Lucie Awards, Carnegie Hall ©Thomas Kelly — 2013 Lucie Awards, Carnegie Hall
©Thomas Kelly

I had been asked to step in to present the “2013 Deeper Perspective Photographer of the Year Award”. on behalf of the ASMP when Executive Director, Gene Mopsik and President, Ed McDonald couldn’t attend.

I don’t usually get nervous about things like this, but I was last night. As I stood in the wings with photographer John H. White, who was waiting to go on stage to accept his Lucie, for Achievement in Photojournalism, I was mesmerized as I watched John. He seemed to glow and I felt his grace, his humility and his gratitude. It was a moment in my life that will stay with me forever. It was calming. I watched and listened to his acceptance speech on the monitor backstage, and I was deeply touched. So was the audience, as evidenced in their standing ovation.

John H. White is not a “rock star” type of photographer. His images don’t “shock and awe”, not in the way a war photographer’s images do. John’s photographs capture the subtle moments of the human experience. His legacy of images show us life as it really is.

This past spring, after 35 years with the Chicago Sun Times, John and the rest of the newspaper’s photographic staff were fired. It was a huge blow to the photographic community, magnified by the fact that even John H. White, the “chairman” was “let go”, without even as much as a thank you. John wasn’t bitter about it though. Michelle Agins wrote a wonderful article for the New York Times where she quoted John: “A job’s not a job because of labor law,” he said. “It’s just something you love. It’s something you do because it gives you a mission, a life, a purpose, and you do it for the service of others.”

All he had wanted to hear from the executives who let him go was two words that never came: thank you. But even then, he did not respond with anger.

John spoke more about the Sun Times’ firings in an interview with NPR where he said: “I will not curse the darkness. I will light candles. I will live by my three “F” words: faith, focus and flight. I’ll be faithful to life, my purpose in life, my assignment from life. Stay focused on what’s really important, what counts.” He repeated those three “F” words last night as he accepted his award. The audience was humbled. John had shed his light.

I have been thinking a lot lately, about the value of photography and the value that a professional brings to this craft. John H. White and his archive of work is a stellar example. His images, capturing the subtleties of life stand out amongst the noise. They make us take notice of what is often over looked – the quieter moments of life.

As far as what a professional photographer brings to the world, I think John stated it best: “Every day, a baby is born. Every day, someone dies. Every single day. And we capture everything in between. You think of this thing called life and how it’s preserved. It’s preserved through vision, through photographs.”

As John walked off the stage and back into the wings, I felt enveloped by his glow that had seemed to magnify. I caught his eye for a moment and said “thank you”. He nodded, and flashed his wonderful smile and in that moment, we connected and shared our understanding, of the “value” of photography.

July 29, 2013July 29, 2013

One Million Miles

Yesterday, I took a look at my United Airlines frequent flyer statement, and realized that I had flown 822,571 miles with that airline!

United Airlines Boeing 777–200 landing in the ... — United Airlines Boeing 777–200 landing in the Blue Tulip livery. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was 177,429 miles away from a million lifetime flight miles. And that’s just the miles that I’ve flown with United! It doesn’t include all the miles I’ve flown on other airlines, nor any of the miles I’ve flown using reward tickets. And it doesn’t include the miles I flew traveling around the world during the making of my film, Opening Our Eyes.

As I looked at that number, and thought about all those miles, I couldn’t help but think about the destinations, the purpose and the motivation behind them. When I set out to live the life of a “traveler” at the young age of 19, I had absolutely no idea of how that would mold my life. As a professional photographer, I’ve gone to the corners of the globe on dream assignments for magazines and corporations and loved every bit of it – my work has always been my pleasure. When I wasn’t working, I’d still find a reason to travel, whether on a press junket or simply exploring the world with my husband and daughter. Some of my favorite family memories are from our travels to Peru and Egypt.

I will always be a traveler. I am a nomadic creature and I have a huge curiosity about our world and its people. For me, travel is more than going from point A to point B. Sure, there are plenty of times, on corporate jobs when I travel somewhere to photograph a particular person or a place and I’m never there long enough to get a sense of the place I am in. But, for the most part, I travel to a destination to find out more about that place and tell the visual story of that particular place and its people.

As I thought about all those miles traveled, I started to think about reaching the “Million Miler” status with United. I was only 177,429 miles away! That may seem like a lot to many of you, and it might seem like no big deal to others, but to me it seems like a very attainable goal. In fact, when I started to think about reaching that goal, I thought that I could easily attain that in 3 year’s time – just in time for a milestone birthday. That’s something to consider and I shall. I certainly have the motivation; I just need to define the destinations and more importantly the purpose.

Any suggestions? I’m open to your thoughts.

July 3, 2013July 3, 2013

Karma and Being Real

I had an awesome night last night. My husband and I had tickets to a Jackson Browne concert. The seats were way up in the up most reaches of an old theater in New Brunswick, NJ. They weren’t great tickets, but nevertheless, they were tickets to a concert by Jackson Browne, my favorite singer/songwriter.

During intermission, a guy, who had climbed four extremely steep flights of steps, walked into the “gallery” and announced that he had one available ticket in the third row and asked “Does anybody want it?” After a minute of trying to comprehend what the man had said, I spoke up and said “I’ll take it” and then asked “Is it really in the third row?. He confirmed, and then I asked my husband “you don’t mind do you?, gave him a kiss and flew down to my “new” seat.

It was an amazing night, to sit so close and be able to see and feel the music. Jackson is one of the most intimate and real songwriters around and I got totally absorbed into his performance. I thought about my stroke of luck in getting that seat. I thought perhaps my luck was changing after a very “trying” month. It was like a karmic blessing.

As I watched and listened to Jackson, I saw an artist whose talents and music have endured the test of time. His topics and lyrics are just as relevant as they were when I first started following him, some 40 years ago. That’s because he writes about the human experience – the triumphs and the failures that we all have. He strikes a nerve with his truth and honesty. Some say his music defines a generation. Perhaps. But Jackson’s music certainly defines who he is. He’s about as authentic as you can be.

Jackson inspires me to create from my true self and do the work that I am meant to do. He also inspires me to be a better person. After his encore, he waved to the audience and said, “Be good to each other”. That said it all.

From The Pretender, by Jackson Browne

I want to know what became of the changes
We waited for love to bring
Were they only the fitful dreams
Of some greater awakening
I’ve been aware of the time going by
They say in the end it’s the wink of an eye
And when the morning light comes streaming in
You’ll get up and do it again
Amen

May 27, 2013May 28, 2013

Condensing a Life

I have lived in the house that I am in for 19 years. For a kid who grew up going to a new school every year until the fourth grade, this has been the longest I have ever lived anywhere. My husband and I raised a child in this home. We also work here, running our photography business out of a separate section of the house. What that means is that we’ve done a lot of living in this house and with that comes the accumulation of “stuff”.

When you live the kind of life I do, always moving forward with new projects and exploring the world, you don’t realize what a past you’ve had until you begin the process of getting rid of things you no longer need. That’s what I have been doing recently, sorting through years worth of “stuff” and tossing what I don’t need anymore.

I spent the day yesterday, taking on just one small corner of my office, going through folders that contained everything from old stock photo delivery memos, caption information for dozens of destinations, financial information, old contact info, lists of goals and good intentions and LOTS of correspondence.

And that’s where I got totally sidetracked from my mission, looking through almost 20 years of correspondence. There were many letters from a friend who died long ago. My friend had also been a mentor to me, and his letters were thoughtful, insightful and full of encouragement. I suppose I have kept those letters all these years to remind me of where I was at during that time in my life.

There were plenty of other letters and note cards from people who have been part of my life, including a card from my daughter with a crayon drawing inside that she had made. It brought back of vivid memory of when I had received it. It was my birthday and I had been on a very long assignment, shooting in France, and as great as that sounds, (and it was) it was also hard because I missed my family terribly.

It was a bittersweet experience, going through decades of correspondence, but I’m grateful that I kept some of it. It was like tangible evidence of chapters of my life and it somehow felt more real than my electronic archives do. And so, while I spent hours shredding documents, feeling like I was in the movie Argo, there’s just some things I’m not quite ready to let go of. For now those tangible memoirs will stay in that corner of the office until the next edit.