Some days I just want to get my photo fix in the easiest way possible. There are so many beautiful places around here but photographically speaking, this one really ticks all the boxes and really is my happy place when I’m in a photography rut. We spent twenty minutes the other week watching the sun dip behind the horizon at the local jetty.
“Shelley Reis, the Australian photographer behind My Captured Life, is known for her ability to show depth and emotion in the images she takes of everyday life. The result is photos that are clearly artistic while still capturing the essence of daily life and childhood.”
Last week I had quite the buzz. I was contacted by a writer for the Huffington Post who had heard about my workshop and wanted to write an article about it. It’s amazing how a little project like this can really be such a transformative thing. I have met so many new people and been offered so many incredible opportunities as a result.
If you would like to read the article you can find it here.
If you are interested in purchasing my workshop you can find all the information here.
In the course of creating this workshop I have had the opportunity to meet some wonderful people. A local photographer, Jade, from Jade Flores Photography, offered up her beautiful family to be videoed, while I photographed them. Despite being Winter it was a beautiful and warm afternoon and I had such a wonderful time with this family of four, even though we all got a bit wetter than planned.
To see all the behind the scenes footage and editing videos that accompany this shoot, they come as part of my workshop which is available for purchase here: http://beyondthewanderlust.com/art-and-soul-adding-depth-and-emotion-to-storytelling-images-with-shelley-reis/
Today is THE day and I could not be more excited!
I am so happy to announce that my workshop, ‘Art & Soul: Adding Depth and Emotion to Storytelling Images’, is now on sale at Beyond the Wanderlust.
It is available for purchase for a limited time only at the discounted price of US$35.
Click here for more details and purchasing information.
“Walking in the bush, walking in the bush.
There is nothing quite like it, walking in the bush…”
Last weekend we went a local National Park for a picnic with family. It was a beautifully warm Winter’s Day and while it wasn’t quite beach weather it was perfect for a bush stroll. The kids had a blast splashing in puddles, drawing in the sand, and generally running amok with their cousins. We added about another 25 sticks to our ever growing stick collection (don’t ask).
“We are making photographs to understand what our lives mean”
~ Ralph Hattersley
I often wonder why I have this all consuming drive to photograph and document life. I know I am not alone in this, I see countless others around me striving to hold on to these moments and create something tangible from a fleeting event. To hang on to it in some form. The theory: If I photograph it, it is not lost.
I read the words the other day ‘How did it get so late so soon?’ on one of my favourite photography blogs. I’ve had these words spinning round my head over and over for the last week or so trying to understand why they resonate with me and why I couldn’t shake them from my mind. The words are originally Dr Seuss’:
“How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon.
December is here before it’s June. My goodness how the time has flewn.
How did it get so late so soon?”
Now I’m one of those people who does far too much thinking for my own good but no matter how much I think, I can’t put my finger on the ‘why?’. It was only when I was looking around my back catalog for a particular photo that I stumbled upon some images that made me realise why I do this. When Lola was 8 days old I took some photos of her – I posed her, put little props on her head and smoothed out her imperfect baby skin. She looked thoroughly adorable of course. But in this back catalog I had kept my ‘outtakes’ in a separate folder – the inbetween moments, the unposed, the spontaneous, and sometimes the out of focus or technically amiss – yet these were the real treasures. This was the real Lola – the way I had remembered her in all her beautiful, imperfect squishy glory. Like little keys they unlocked all of these beautiful memories of our first days together. To find these photos I felt both happy and sad. She’s so big now, a proper little girl. How did it get so late so soon?
I find the passing of time so bittersweet. It happens so fast that some days I feel as though life just snuck up on me and kind of snowballed out of my control. So, how do we reconcile the relentless march of time? Do we reflect and mourn the loss? Or ignore it and forge on revelling in the present moment and what’s to come? I know I need to do the latter more but I’ve realised now that capturing and collecting these memories is an important step that helps to keep me looking forward. Photography to me is an act of love and the photographs I take are the precious souvenirs from a time I once visited.
It’s been five and a half years since we packed up and moved from the inner city of Sydney to a relatively quiet and far less happening beach town. I have some very fond memories of our ‘pre-kid’ life living in this vibrant, busy place. Every now and then I fantasise about selling up and moving back, though the thought of living in a shoebox sized apartment with two small kids normally snaps me back to reality. Last week we took an impromptu drive and on what was a beautiful Winter’s afternoon had a walk around the streets, past the terrace house where we used to live, exploring the local street art and a quick stop at the city park. It was exactly what I needed and I really enjoyed taking a few casual snaps along the way. I often think how much I love to shoot the quietly stunning beach-side places but the city has something incredible to offer too. The interesting textures, the colours, the way the shadows dance and fall from the harsh geometric structures that we have put in place. I love these images no less than those I’ve taken in idyllic natural settings. I guess beauty really is in the eye of the beholder.
We had a weekend of crazy ‘hold on to your hair’ kind of weather. After staying inside for a whole day (which actually feels like an eternity to small children) we ventured out to our local Harbour. We’d heard that the waves needed to be seen to be believed. I think we stayed out of the car for a couple of minutes at most, the wind was so strong and the rain was intense, that we enjoyed the view more from the car.
On this cold and cloudy day I really needed to see these. Even though they were only taken three months ago I had forgotten they had even existed (I know, I know, I take a lot of photos so it happens!). They are from one of the last days of our last holiday. It was one of those perfect afternoons as the sun went down that I felt a strong sense that “we are making important memories right now”.
As a child, many of my happiest memories were made at the beach and they still are. I was thinking that it’s funny how things change but some things will always be the same. The rhythmic ebb and flow of the tide, back and forth, for millions of years – a continuous presence while everything around it comes and goes and changes.
Just yesterday I was looking at photos from my own childhood. I realised then that one of the reasons that I am somewhat obsessed with photography is that I’m also terribly nostalgic – my photography is really just a feeble and desperate attempt to hold on to that fleeting moment for just a fraction of a second longer. To make something permanent and tangible in a world that is constantly in a state of flux. The realisation was sad and comforting all at once but I’m sure many of my photographer friends can relate.