why I'm sharing my reference library
Taking thousands of photos and the desire to compassionately share with a community, plus a bonus creative prompt
Switching to from an iPhone to a physical camera fundamentally changed my relationship to images. It made me realize that this slow practice of creating photos was the best method for sharing the beauty I was witnessing bloom all around me in Northern California.
When I was working at Apple teaching creativity, I was fully bought in to the idea that the iPhone could be the only camera I would ever need. And I was so wrong. While tech innovation on our phone cameras has real significance and made the practice far more accessible to folks with disabilities1, the photos are often too sharp for my taste. Back then I had blinded myself to the idea there is a real difference.
Two months after I quit my job, and after several firm lectures on the difference from my mother-in-law (a brilliantly talented bird photographer) I came to terms with the idea that comparing a cell phone camera to the possibilities of a mirrorless manual camera system was deeply incorrect and based on assumptions. A hand-me-down 10 year old Sony a6000 from 2014 found its way to me, and after seeing the results, it became my new lightweight system that I carry around everywhere.
My partner and I both realized that photography with physical, non addictive, notification-free machines were an excuse to slow down on hikes and capture the beauty. I felt so open and inspired by the camera and what it could do. I was forming a positive relationship with a piece of tech for the first time in a long time.
Learning, slowly, how to control light, work with manual focus, see the impacts of ND filters, polarizers, vintage lenses, and softening filters, I found a voice and a sense of character in my photographs.
But photography felt like a stopover. I might share 2 or 3 images from a trip but rarely would I ever actually share the images as my art. I know it has everything to do with shame instilled in art school. I spent one too many critiques fighting with classmates who would argue “is painting representationally even relevant when you can Just take a Photo?”
To be honest, this commentary always pissed me off. It felt like a snarky attack on my talented photographer friends who also painted but used image crafting as a first step. The worst aspect was when my painting cohorts’ attitudes were grossly used as justification for using relational aesthetics as a way to do less work and get away with it. No shame to artists who do this work in a genuine way, but I saw first hand how unpainted linen canvases in the crit room or a table full of your pre-workout supplements as sculpture were an excuse to party, not work, and regurgitate postmodern philosophy. I bet it’s even worse now with AI.
So I hid my photographs at first. Thousands sit unseen on my hard drive. I didn’t want people to know this was part of my process. Some would make an appearance here, between my words, and it felt good to share them. But the amount of paintings I wanted to make with these references was impossible. I had more inspiration than I knew what to do with. I had to find a way to make this into a resource for others.
I hurt my back badly in early March of this year. It has been grief inducing. I wasn’t able to walk, drive, or hike for about 7 weeks, then I got better, or so it seemed, and my body flipped out on a camping trip and I’m back to where I was in early May. I’m devestated that this injury has become a new relationship with chronic pain limiting my ability to explore. But I am finding was to persist.
While in pain, I have been able to stand at my easel comfortably between PT sessions. That means I have finally had time to go through my collection of inspiration to start painting scenes hiding in photo folders and truly honor them.
But even with this time I have been granted to paint between freelance gigs, I feel like I’ll never reach “the bottom” of my favorite references. It started to bother me that some of these beautiful moments are getting lost in digital folders forever.
So, that brings me to what I’ve decided to do: as a gift to my paid subscribers and as an incentive to have more people support me on here, I’m sharing wide swaths of my reference library with you. That means, we might make paintings of similar things and I realize, I’m ok with that. Actually more than okay, it would be so cool to chat in discord about different ways to convey the color and shape of these images together!
The more support I get here on Substack, the more I can focus on painting. It also allows me to be more experimental on YouTube, with zine projects, and the courses I teach. My paid subscribers help me survive the lean months and the impacts of this injury, the drops in views2, and the fact that I haven’t been able to do a single makers market this year due to my inability to lift my setup.
Paid subscribers are also the reason I have yet to take on any sponsors. That’s a thing I would like to keep doing!
Making the choice to become a paid subscriber will allow me to keep making stuff for you instead of needing to shift back to a 9 to 5 survive. A thing I very seriously contemplated when I got hurt this year.
I know that traveling to the Redwoods, Yosemite, Joshua Tree, or other California National Parks are bucket list items for most people. I have a global audience who likely feels unsafe traveling to the US right now, and it feels wrong not to find a way to share these experiences I am lucky enough to have.
Here are the principle rules for this photo reference portal:
You cannot use these with any generative AI tools. Period. I am a visual artist who is trying to make a living. The companies behind these tools do not respect us.
You can use any photo or combination of photos in collage, paintings, drawings, sculptures, prints, quilts, etc. You just need to make them with your human hands.
You can sell the art you make inspired by these photos.
You cannot sell prints of these photos (I feel like this is a totally obvious one, but stating it anyway)
Credit me if you’d like, but if your work is derivative, meaning you change it through making something of it with your human hands, it is fair use.
If you agree to the terms,
Below the cut is the magic link to my library AND my additional “oblique arcana” creative prompt for paid subscribers. If you wanna stay here and just support me for free, thats okay too! Thanks for reading, and until next time, stay creative and find your own ways to persistently bloom 🌸
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