Bixby Bridge, Big Sur // Elizabeth Cara
Big Sur // Elizabeth Cara
Bixby Creek Bridge in Big Sur, CA
3 years ago I waved goodbye to a coastline I thought had forever tainted my stance about it. I told myself “Never again, never again” but I never learn. I fell wayside to the charm unintentionally, naturally. What was I supposed to do? Deny the endless sprawl of hills reminiscent of a Tuscany sunset that causes my heart to throb, or the startling cliff edges that plummet hundreds of feet to a true blue ocean, because of a bittersweet aftertaste from some expired experience? New York can be a distracting broad, but Central California is a soft woman with a gentle voice and calloused hands. I met her on a sunny Friday afternoon.
To experience the coastlines of Big Sur, California was, in fact, a dream come true. Every mile I traveled north the more and more I was slowly becoming convinced that the landscape may be perfectly suited for me. Similar to falling in love, I suppose. Everything seems warmer, thus more inviting into your life.
Each curve along the edge exposes a new landscape and just when you think you have seen it, it disappears again. The drive alone is extremely fleeting and overwhelming. Life in slow-motion, s’il vous plait.
When you arrive in Big Sur you finally realize what fresh smells and tastes like. I was with acute senses the entire trip. My ears heard a light hum of insects that would normally frighten me if I were back amongst a cityscape. Air smelled of the color green if green were to have a perfect scent. Wine was a lovely juice. And even my skin was sensitive to salt spray and fingertips. My eyes, usually, in instances like this, convince me that everything around me is not real. Was I driving through Iceland, with the lighthouse on a rocky cliff and head in cloud? It was unbelievable. The landscape was a projection of perfection & I couldn’t begin to fathom that I was one within it. I should give myself more credit for my travels. No wonder writers come here to live and die. What a place to call an eternal home.
No image I could ever take could begin to illustrate the sights I have seen but I surely do try. Those are my scattered seeds on my footpath.
Big Sur, California. August 2014.
Pfeiffer Beach in Big Sur, CA
Big Sur, CA
I’ve been floating in and around New York City for 2 months. I’m in the epicenter of creative overflow. Every tool I need is at my reach. Every asset from any creative individual is accessible with a smile. I have free nights and open mornings to gorgeous shooting, daytime reading, nighttime reflecting & I have done none of it. I haven’t shot a single image for myself in two months. The depressive energy of being in an environment where your craft, and your contribution to your craft specifically, is repressed and taken for granted, has put me a rut. And I regret that I tolerated it for so long.
Today I have an absolute bolt of energy. I have a fire inside that has exploded and I have an undying desire to get out and shoot. I need to see the world around me through the standard back of a large-format camera. I need the speed of a prime 50mm lens with the fast-paced energy of the New York subway. The photographer’s eye is a muscle. Do not let the awareness for uniqueness fall out of shape. Time to jump back on the horse. The creative juices are flowing now.
Shizen Brooklyn, New York.
Shizen Brooklyn is a Japanese-originated salon whose space & aura caters to all things creative. It’s less about the utilitarian front of a business and more about the collaboration between artists (and those who, like myself, come in desperately pleading for a fix-me-up hairdo). The entire east wall houses probably close to hundreds of magazines, zines, and photography books—all beautifully crafted, notably. During your visit the style team will run off mid sentence to grab a magazine to share that is often responsive to the conversation you were having with them. Ideas and visuals start to bounce off of one another. We talk hair, art, fashion, art direction, writing, interviews, traveling and anything that can spur from a few pages of a magazine. One that I given was Dogme Magazine from Sweden. Osamu Yokonami may become one of my favorite photographers because of this spread. The body of work shot in Phuket, Thailand, showcases a group of well-uniformed young women frolicking in the awe-inspiring landscape. I’m moved by it. I suddenly have the urge to get lost & subject myself to fleeting moments like this. With good company or not. Muted palettes, subtle film grain, minimal and economized human presence make for good rhythm in the work. There is a sense of being “there”. I am an overseer. I’m observing these women huddle around a cave’s portal, or watching their tiny heads balance on a perfectly centered and leveled horizon line of blue. Their bodies sever the sky the water and the land. Breathless. Please, check out the bodies of work, the magazines and contributors to each.
I don’t post on this as often as I would like. I don’t know if sorry is applicable, but
The perfectly centered sun on E 47th Street & Park Ave // July 11th 2014
AP Cafe in Bushwick // Brooklyn
Raw space at MANA Contemporary - Jersey City, NJ
MANA Contemporary - Jersey City, NJ