Whassup niches?!?

First and foremost... I stole this blog title from James Victore's Burning Questions web-series. It was too perfect. And though it may pain my ego, I must concede that I couldn't even begin to construct a better title on my own. James Victore is an artist, activist, author and self-proclaimed firestarter who teaches creatives how to illuminate their individual gifts. I enjoy his "Burning Questions" series because he addresses topics like:

• "You're A Fraud? So Am I!"  
• "How To Trust Your Gut And Take Criticism"
• "Don't Let The Turkeys Get You Down"

These videos are helpful to those of us trying to navigate the "professional" art world; those of us who are simultaneously giving into our compulsion to create art while experiencing a constant fear of discovering we are, indeed, completely and totally talent-less. Obscene self-loathing aside, these videos are the perfect "talk you off the ledge" pick-me ups.

One of his more recent "Burning Questions" topic really jumped off the page for me. See below...

Recently, I've found myself considering the direction I am taking my art. Over the years I've tried to carve out a niche for myself (travel, architecture and nature photography) because I wanted my work to be "marketable" and "relateable". I did not have any pretensions to create "great art".  I just wanted people to enjoy my images. Photography is not my full time job, nor is it a viable source of income for me. It is passion, plain and simple; a compulsion I surrender myself over to because my DNA commands me. It has provided me with a lifetime of frustration, heartache and self-loathing. Some examples for illustration:

• Being "asked" to leave locations by police for using a tripod.
• Losses of entire rolls of film due to equipment failure.
• Repeated defeats during photography competitions.
• Outdoor art shows in the pouring rain, where no ones comes, and you don't sell anything.
• Repeatedly having to undersell for many different reasons.

All these experiences pale in comparison, however, to the reasons which keep me plowing forward.

• Having the opportunity to travel and document non-profits doing incredible work around the world and in my own backyard.
• Being asked to capture important moments in the lives of my friends and family.
• Having a creative outlet which constantly challenges me to slow down and consider the simple beauty of the world around me.
• Engaging in meaningful conversations with others inspired by the content of my work.

As I attempt to grow with my art, I find my expressions expanding into realms which don't necessarily fall into "my niche". As I tentatively share some of these "creations," I  maintain a moderate fear that it will be confusing to those who identify me with those very specific niches I have to carved out for my art over the years. Will I put those all those efforts in jeopardy? Or will a fearless pursuit of those things which make us happy and fulfilled, regardless of definition or niche, be the most honest attempt at truly living life? I don't have the answers to those questions. If I attempt the latter, however, my gut tells me I might get just a little closer to the answer than I am now. James Victore says, "when someone asks you what do you do, you say, 'I bring the party. I make powerful, sexy, memorable things that get people excited!'" I like that.

"Creatio" - Lisa Gallant Photography © 2014

QUESTION:

Niches... Good? Bad? Indifferent? Leave a comment below and let us know how the worlds we create for ourselves help us or hurt us.

Pour Charlie, Avec Amour.

 

 

It is too much. Too much hate. Too much death. Too much loss.

I had to write this entry. I write this for the 12 people of Charlie Hebdo. I write this for the French police officers. I write this for the hostages of the kosher market. I write this for James Foley and Steven Sotloff. I write this for the women and girls of Nigeria. I write this for Krystle Campbell, Martin Richard, Lingzi Lu and Officer Sean Collier. I write this for the victims and the families of September 11th. I write this for the all victims who lives were cut short by hate. I write this for all the names we never hear about. They are no longer here to tell their story, so we must take up that torch.

I write because I don't know what else to do. I believe with every fiber of my being that goodness and love truly exist in this world. I know this to be true because I see it everyday. Love exists in the smallest of gestures. We feel it in the air when a young man holds open a door for a frail old woman. We sense its strength when a pastor embraces his son after he comes out to him. We give it life when we stand together in the darkness with our candles lit, remembering.

 

Source: Flickr Blog

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a conversation about hate and love. I will not discuss the divisions of religion, race, gender, orientation, politics or class. Throughout our existence our species has subdivided itself into categories and we have reacted to them and created "rules" of engagement based upon our perspectives. We have learned these "rules" from our friends and families. We have taught them to our children. We have decided for ourselves and we have let others make decisions for us. We have grown and died a thousand times over in an attempt to "evolve". We are flawed. We are often lost. But we are also beautiful creatures, and we are always capable of choosing love.

But it frightens me how often these days we do not.

I will not write the names of the people who committed these horrific acts. They are not the ones who get to be remembered. Whatever guise, whatever mask, whatever sense of righteousness these acts of violence fall under, none can ever be justified. No conflict involving religion, race, gender, orientation, politics or class can ever diminish the act of one human murdering another. These people chose categorization over humanity. It was a choice between love and hate. They choose hate.

Now we must choose love.

 

Tonight marks the end of another spree of senseless violence. I am saddened when I think this event will probably not be the last one our species will witness during our time on this earth. So what do we do? Where do we go from here? When the crowds have dispersed, the candle wax dried, and the sun has risen on a new day, in what direction do we travel? I only know one. We must seek out the humanity inside all of us, no matter how deeply it may be buried. We must look into the eyes of our neighbor and see our own fragile mortality reflected back. We must value life beyond all things. And we must always, always, always love each other.

Pour Charlie, avec amour.

Thanksgiving - A Journey Towards Gratitude

"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it." - William Arthur Ward

 



Let's jump right in... I love this time of year! As November rolls into view a more reflective and contemplative nature seems to take hold on peoples' hearts. And in a world were there are so many half-truths and so much distrust, Thanksgiving has become less holiday and more necessity. These expressions of thanksgiving become quite prevalent throughout our social media outlets. Some people even do countdowns, listing one thing each day they are grateful for leading up to Thanksgiving. Over the years I have found these lists, at times, actually reveal things about my friends and family I had no idea were of such great importance to them. With each revelation we get a small peak behind the rose-colored glasses we so often affix to our social media persona and see what truly matters to the human behind the profile picture. In this reflective spirit, here is a list of some of the things I am thankful for this year! Leave a comment below and let us know what things, people or experiences you are thankful for this year!

What I am thankful for...

 I am thankful for this view from my bedroom window.

 

I am thankful for my brother, who I went on my
first adventures with.



I am thankful for my parents, who taught me about

true love and selfless devotion, and about being a stud ;-).

 

I am thankful for these goofballs, for they have known me

most of my life, and against their better judgment they still

they hang out with me!



I am thankful for Kelli, my sister-in-law, for agreeing to 

join our family, even after getting to know us!

 

I am thankful for my soccer family, who are so much

more than teammates.

I am thankful for my girl Ash, who constantly

reminds me to be brave in all things.

 

I am thankful for every day I got to spend with Matt, and

all the lessons his all too short life taught me.

 

 I am thankful for my SCAD family. You are proof that family

is, more often than not, made up of the people you choose.

 

And finally, I am grateful to all of you, whoever you are!

Your support of my work gives me more joy than

you might ever truly know.



Don't forget to leave a comment below and let us know what things, people or experiences you are thankful for this year!





Not All Who Wander Are Lost. Some Are Just Geocaching.

I have been introduced to something new and I couldn't be more excited. Well... new to me anyway. I may be late to this party, but in truth I don't care! It is so freaking awesome! In the spirit of discovery and exploration, I give you... geocaching! According to the official website, geocaching is a "real-world treasure hunt that's happening right now, all around you. There are 2,526,091 active geocaches and over 6 million geocachers worldwide."

Doesn't that just get you totally amped up!?! I mean, seriously.... global treasure hunting! What could be more exciting than going off in search of some hidden treasure? Before I get overly excited and start hyperventilating, I should point out the "treasure" will most likely be a Scrabble tile, or a sticker, or a plastic toy, as well as a log for you to sign. Geocaching is truly about the search; not the contents of the "treasure chest". With that said, if any pirates, marauders, or late 18th-century explorers have been eagerly reading this entry in hopes of discovering the location of buried doubloons, I apologize and ask that you not ransack my home in an act of revenge.

To play, participants navigate to a specific set of GPS coordinates and then attempt to find the geocache (container) hidden at that location. These locations have been established by other geocachers and logged in the global database, which you can access online at www.geocaching.com or by downloading the app to your phone. When I first launched the app I was blown away by the sheer number of caches within walking distance of my location. The next morning, when I arrived at work, even more cache sites were revealed. Areas I have walked or driven past countless times were actually secret hiding places for boxes and containers, some there for many years, which people from all over the country, and even the globe, have searched out and found. It felt as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a secret world that was right in front of me the entire time.

My first cache did not take long to find. The site was within walking distance of my office, so I thought I would check it out during my lunch break. The data provided for the cache site includes, along with the coordinates, a description, the level of difficultly, the terrain level, the relative size of the container, and a hint.



Logging my first cache!

As I began surveying the area I believed the cache was located, I did become moderately aware that I might look a bit ridiculous. You are, after all, poking around in places (public place in this particular instant) that might cause a passerby to question your level of stability. Those self-conscious feelings fell quickly by the wayside the second I wrapped my fingers around the pill bottle size cache! It was really there! The wave of excitement rushing through me was something I hadn't felt in a long time. More to the fact, that such a simple, almost child-like, game brought me that much joy was a refreshing and invigorating experience.

The cache contained a few small pieces of paper rolled up in a plastic Ziploc bag. Upon reviewing the Activity Log for the cache on my phone App, it was apparent that the hiding spot was quite susceptible to rain, and over the years the log had been replaced a number of times. What moved me most was this "maintenance" was conducted by the individual geocachers who found it, not the original creator. In a "pay-it-forward" type mentality, the people participating in this activity care enough to make sure the integrity of this hidden object is properly maintained so the next person who comes along may experience the same excitement and joy.

My first cache!

I opened the log and added my Geocaching handle and the date on the next available line. then examined the "treasure"!It was a small Scrabble tile. Since this was my first cache I really wanted to have a keepsake, but the rules of geocaching require a trade of something of equal or greater value. Having nothing on my immediate person, I walked back to my car to see if I could dredge up something from the glove box or between the seats. I hit pay dirt when I found this small plastic parachute toy I must have gotten from the dentist or stolen from a toddler (but seriously, where I got it isn't important, okay! Let it go, Elsa, just let it go!) It was perfect. I made the swap, resealed and replaced the log, and careful put the cache back exactly were I found it. Then I walked away, completely hooked, and excited to begin my next search.


To learn more about geocaching, please check out www.geocaching.com or watch the video below! Happy Hunting!

Three Decades Later...

I am quickly learning that this blog thing is not easy. Finding inspiration for posts, especially when I am not traveling much these days, has been challenging. As I paused recently to reflect upon my shameful neglect of this digital drop box of expression, I was struck by the realization that I have actually been "traveling" quite a bit, just not in a global way. Are you ready for this? We are going to be trudging through some heavy stuff in a minute, so lace up your boots! (I promise I won't make a habit of this!)



I am teetering on the brink of being thirty years old. And if I knuckle down this post will actually be published before that happens. From everyone I speak with, turning thirty is suppose to be this really big deal. And it is. But not because it marks the impending doom of some societal incendiary, slowly ticking down to zero on my allotted time to marry and have children. Thirty is important because it is another year, another chance to live life. We should never begrudge getting older, because it is not a privilege granted to everyone.

With each passing year I meet new people, with new perspectives, and new world views. I want to understand and validate them all, and keep myself open to all possibilities. However, many times the internal conflicts of opposing viewpoints get all mangled up in my head and it becomes harder to assuredly declare one more valid than the other. How do we maintain our convictions, if by doing so, we are excluding others? Is standing for something that others disagree with a testament to the strength your beliefs, or an indictment of others, or neither, or both? Ahh! Shut up brain!

Up to this point, my soul-searching self has been dedicated to understanding my own convictions and moralities within the world I lived. Developing a personal identity and sense of self is probably something everyone in their twenties goes through. We've been released into the wild and now we have to fight to understand our place in it. But what if, at the end of this decade of exploration, you find your world rocked because you realize that this journey presented more questions than answers. Did we fail in some fundamental way? Or did we achieve some truer and higher meaning that we don't yet understand?

So on the upcoming anniversary of my birth, I find myself standing at that nauseatingly saccharin cliché called a crossroad. And this is what I have discovered. I want to live my life defying the stereotypes demanded of me by my "labels". If I want to change, I'll change... and hope that my friends and family will still see the me in me; and I hope I will always do the same for them. If I could be granted one birthday wish this year, it would be for the bravery required to truly and fully live out this mantra.



Do you ever finding yourself pausing in the middle of another ordinary day and asking yourself, when was the last time I took a risk? When was the last time I took a leap of faith? What is my purpose and am I working towards that? WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE!?! 

Whoa, whoa, whoa... reel it in kiddo! Take a breath and bring it back down.

Sorry... got a little carried away there. Surely such a reaction is dramatic, but my intent is sincere. I don't think I am risk-adverse, but my brain tends to process opportunities like an endless domino effect of scenarios. If I do this, this and that may happen. But then this won't and then twenty years from now I won't be able to do this. I try to write the script before it happens so I can be prepared. And it has served me well for most of my life; keeping me from having to deal with the fallout of rash and impetuous decisions. But yet, here I stand, feeling like I am missing out on some important truth.



So what to do about it? They say that the first step to healing is to admit the problem. But after that we need a direction to help us in our forward progress. I know I am blessed because I have many incredible people in my life fully dedicated to such a path. Friends and family, old and new, who show me the hope and joy of being an optimist, and believing wholeheartedly that it will all work out in the end. I draw strength from their strength and courage from their convictions. I try to understand their journey, so mine may be inspired by them. They allow me to ask for help and I allow for their thoughts, opinions and experiences to filter through me, helping to shape, change or mold my view of the world. And I try to share what I have gone through, so as to reciprocate their gifts to me.

Three decades on this earth is an incredible gift. Moving into the next, I hope to take all of these ramblings and begin a process of refinement, so I may better serve my fellow humans and my purpose on this earth. This path, which so many of us are on, will undoubtedly be strewed with sign posts reading, "Enlightenment Not Guaranteed" or "Turn Back, Impending Failure Ahead". But you know what, we still need to walk it. We can defy apathy and ignorance by listening, discussing, questioning and sharing all the things we encounter with each other; then we can breathe life into these ideas with our actions. There is still so much to discover and explore, and I want to invite you all to come along with me. I know I don't travel this journey alone, and I know I don't want to.

As final tribute for the blessings of my last three decades, I want to send all my love and thanks beyond articulation to those of you who have been on this journey with me, at whatever point along the road. I owe you everything.

Walking to Work

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves. As age comes on, one source of enjoyment after another is closed, but Nature's sources never fail." - John Muir

I live in the mountains. I probably live farther away than my family and friends would like, but I find it manageable and they are all generous enough to trek out and visit me from time to time. Of all the many and varied reasons which inspired my relocation, one of the most prominent was my close proximity to work. A measly 4 miles would separate my home and office, and I became excited at the notion of finally being able to bike to work. The first test run of my new commuting style, however, proved less than successful. My minor oversight of the roughly 600 feet of elevation change over a short 4 miles caused a swift and humbling knock to my ego during the commute home. As I pushed my bike up the steep incline, I thought to myself, I would be more successful if I just walked this... but the heat and exhaustion must have pushed the notion from my mind and I gave up on my alternative transport after the first try.

Months came and went. Leaves turned, snow fell, flowers grew, and I drove; down the mountain in the morning, up the mountain in the evening. Same thing. Every day. Over and over. Until one day, like some kind of ghost, the distance memory of a fleeting thought wafted back into my brain. I could walk to work! It was only 4 miles, and though the incline was steep, I trusted my athleticism enough to propel myself up and down the mountain. Plus, if I wanted to commit myself to a more exploratory life, I had to stop barreling through it. Walking to work just might help slow things down long enough to help me see what is right in front of my face.

Setting off from home that first morning, I felt as if I was trekking out on some kind of marvelous, new adventure. The sun was bright, the air was cool, and though I was heading along a road I had driven an immeasurable number of times before, everything was different. The drive had always been beautiful, but oh, how much I had been missing. The ability to pause and witness a singular moment of natural beauty, framed by the branches of trees and washed in the rays of the morning sun was the gift of this slower pace. I found with each mile I began to breath more deeply and relax into a calm, meditative stride. By the time I arrived at work my mind was focused and peaceful. The inevitable stresses of the day bothered me less and the prospect of the return walk ran pleasantly through my mind all day.

It is important to note over the next few day alarms clocks went off earlier, blistered formed, muscles ached, and cars traveling too fast on blind curves had to be dodged. The road and I have had to get to know each other. And while I don't want to speak too soon, I can definitely feel a bond beginning to grow. Sadly, I am not able to walk every day. Weather, appointments, and general life stuff still continues to mandate the occasional vehicular commute. I also find myself beginning the fight against the waning hours of daylight, as we inevitably move into the darker half of the year; but I am dedicated to walking as long as nature (and safety) will allow.

In final reflection, I truly think I may have accidently stumbled upon some kind of ancient magic in this simple act. I am not yet sure how big of an impact it will have on my life (if that is even the point). In the meantime, however, I guess I'll just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

 

 

Obligatory First Post

Hi! My name is Lisa G. What's yours? ... Really?... How do you spell that? Wow, okay. I didn't know you could have an "X" following three "Q's" in one word. You, my friend, are certainly unique! In fact, I can't think of anything more wonderful than experiencing something for the first time. Whether good, bad, or indifferent, each new experience we encounter helps us evolve. It is inevitable and you can't fight it. Like science says "for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction". And we all know, there is no arguing with science. :-)

Each time we encounter something, someone or someplace new an internal reaction takes place. With each new moment we grow or shed layers of our "identity," moving forward in a constant and perpetual act of defining who we are.

Myself (right), friend Luke, and two young girls in Dilla, Ethiopia

Over the years I have learned these moments are not always easy to come by. With each passing year, comfort and stability can take the place of wanderlust and adventure. The harsh realities of life can sometimes wear a person's soul down to nothing. These folks simply stop engaging in new experiences because they are fighting to keep their own world from falling apart. I have experienced this reality, but my obligation to preservation extended only to myself. I would never be so bold as to declare myself an expert in matters of "spiritual" rejuvenation, but if my humble opinion and experience can resonate some level of truth for anyone, then maybe I have done justice to my opportunities.

Winston Churchill taught us "Never give in, never give in, never; never; never - in nothing, great or small, large or petty - never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense." If my existence on this planet has taught me anything, it is that we are forged in fires which burn outside our comfort zone. With each new experience our world grows. We become braver than we thought ourselves capable of. We develop true and lasting convictions based on our own tactile experience. We see beauty in places we overlooked and truth in things we thought previously understood. We must never, never, never stop seeking out opportunities for exploration. These are the things which can revive our souls, even in our darkest times.

The purpose of this blog is to share photographs and stories of my attempt to honor this conviction and live my life in a constant state of exploration. I hope I can bring some joy, humor and interest to those of you who read this. I hope you might be inspired to engage in these entries and share your experiences. Mostly, I hope these reflections inspire you to embark on new adventures and, in doing so, expand the definition of who you are and what you may contribute to this world.

“We must go beyond textbooks, go out into the bypaths and untrodden depths of the wilderness and travel and explore and tell the world the glories of our journey;” 

- John Hope Franklin