Karma is that you?

So the oddest things happened to me at the Hitditch Cup a few Saturdays ago. It started out simply enough, just another bout day…watching amazing athletes skate left. But as I was getting my camera all calibrated for the lighting and whatnot, things went…well, they went weird. This is the part I ask patience with so I can give you a little back story before the current situation that I’m writing about. See, when my derby life was still quite new I was hanging out with a bunch of girls that were way more established in the local leagues than I was and I tried to befriend them. But there was one girl specifically that for whatever reason took exception to me. And without having to bring up all the heartache and shit that goes along with this story let’s just say she made my life hell. She spread lies about me to anyone and everyone that would listen to her and because I didn’t havecredibility with the local “scene” many people believed her. Some didn’t, and they stayed my friends…some of them are my friends to this day. But there was a lot of damage done to me because of this one girl and her many lies. Fast forward to theHitditch Cup…this girl was there warming up to skate and she skated over to me like we were old friends. I was startled because this girl and I pass each other often now that I do photography for the league and for the most part we avoid each other, which is fine with me. But she comes up to me and proceeds to tell me that she has been meaning to talk to me…

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for the things I did and said in reference to you a couple years ago. I thought I knew what I was talking about but it turns out I didn’t and I got involved with things thinking I knew what was going on, and I’ve realized I didn’t. So, I’m sorry.”

I simply said “okay, thank you.”

Then at the end of the bout someone I once considered a good friend who a couple months ago just up and unfriended mewithout a word, and basically stopped talking to me all together asked if she could talk to me before I left. So she pulled me into the kitchen at the nest and tells me…

“I know you messaged me after I unfriended you asking what it was you did and that you wanted to talk to me about it, but I needed to tell you that I just couldn’t talk to you. I was in a bad space and just couldn’t handle arguing and so the way I dealt with it was to just avoid you. But I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry, I should have just talked to you. I got offended by a statement you made on facebook and it confused me because I thought you liked all of us and so I just backed away. Yes, I should have got clarification from you instead of just assuming I knew what you meant. I didn’t and it was my mistake and I’msorry that I was jerk. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

I simply said “okay, thank you.”

I’m not sure why they apologized…if it’s legit or just a game. I don’t know if they did it because I take photos of them and they somehow want to increase their odds of being shot or if they indeed are sorry for the hurt they caused. In the first instance it would be great if that girl would make a public apology to the leagues and other women that she spread lies to. As for the second girl…I’m still not sure what to say or think.

Derby Masters

In 2010 when my old, humdrum life ceased to be and my derby filled life began I had no idea the sport would change my life as much as it has. Maybe not the sport on its own merit but the people who the sport has brought into my life would be a more accurate statement to make.  The derby world is really a microcosm of real life, it is subject to bullies, abusers, lovers, family, friends, jocks, gossipers, supporters etc. The major difference is that in one form or another all of those who are in derby…would for the most part be located on the outcast spectrum of individuals. So eloquently presented to me byKendle as “nerds, those who are socially awkward and misfits.”With that being said, I’ve never been so happy to belong to a subset of people. In the event anyone is wondering what any of this has to do with anything…I’m not really sure. When I sit down to type a blog post I don’t usually have a topic in mind or a direction to go. I let the words appear and I follow them. Sometimes the post turns into something horribly painful, but sometimes it turns into joy or an “ah ha” moment. I guess today’s post has yet to discover its purpose, and I’m okay with that.

So back to what I started with…in 2010 I remember pouring through album after album that was published by the masters in derby photography. The amazing works of Jules, Joe, Bob, Nicholas, Danny, Jenny, Frank and so many others. They were all at the head of the pack (pun intended) capturing wonderful derby moves and people in a moment of time that would forever be envied and looked to with awe and inspiration. To me, they were modern day Picasso’s, Michael Angelo’s or Salvador Dali’s. What Ansel Adams did with Half Dome they did with derby…capturing a thought, an emotion, a moment in time that would never be quite the same. As a side note, I didn’t originally plan to try and be a photographer in derby…I wanted to skate. My dream was to be a pivot, to control the pack, to make walls that would be impossible to get by. To support my jammer, make creases to free them from the pack…I wanted to play. I tried…but easily gave up on that dream because this body of mine…it don’t skate.

I messed around doing photography on my piddly Canon Xti and oh how horribly awful those photos were. But something stirred within me…and little by little I listened to the small voice inside me that was guiding me to do and be more than a girl who couldn’t skate. I worked hard and became a pretty darn good Non Skating Official but I wasn’t satisfied with that. So I consulted some of the fine artists of my day about my love of photography…Frank let me borrow his camera and lens a couple times…and that small voice turned into a scream. More words of support and guidance came from Bob and Jenny, then Danny …I started renting cameras and lenses for derby tournaments…and the scream got louder. I worked and struggled to get better…but still felt so far away from the quality that the masters make look so easy.

If anyone were to ask how I feel about my photography, you would get much the same answer as I gave 5 years ago. I would hem and haw, shift my weight back and forth, kick at the floor or dirt and tell you all the things that I see wrong with my photos. Yes, there are some that I think to myself…what do you know, that doesn’t look so bad. Nice. But my cruel reality is that I am still so amazingly far away from the quality of the greats. I am still so much…an amateur. I work almost daily, just like the derby athletes that I capture…to get better, hone my skills, get my mind to wrap around the intricate details of certain movements, lighting adjustments…always learning how to make things less blurry and more focused.  While I do feel I have made progress, I only see how very far I have yet to go.

I never in my wildest dreams could have ever thought I would be doing all the photography that I am currently involved in. I mean, seriously…I am no Jules Doyle. I am no Danny Ngan. I am just…me. But despite my feelings of unworthiness, this season I have found myself in an odd situation. I shoot derby for two leagues…two amazingly talented leagues. I’m friends with many of the greats that I had once and do continue to think the world of. Where once I was sitting in the cheap seats at Key Arena watching the photographers scramble around and take pictures…thinking to myself how amazingly awesome that must be…I have now had the chance to be on the floor with the skaters and other photographers. And while everyone’s attention was focused on the athletes (as it should be) I quietly had my dreams come true.  Being behind the scenes, in the depths of Key Arena watching the athletes get their game faces on, pump each other up and experience their joy at being part of a great team. It was a surreal feeling standing in the hallways, being with the athletes and now actually being friends with some…I can’t accurately explain to you the joy that fills my heart.

I was talking with James at the Nest a week or so ago about my nagging feelings that I will never be as good as Jules, Joe etc.He quickly made fun of me because here I was complaining about all the things I see wrong with my photography yet, just had two of my photos make it onto a poster and one onto a billboard in Oregon. (I’d have made fun of myself too when you put that way.) And he said something that has really stuck with me, “they had their time and we saw their work. Now it’s your time to share your work. Your work is a stand alone, if they wanted Jules or Joe, they would be here. But it’s your time now. Stop trying to be like them. Be you.”

I wonder if Picasso or Ansel Adams looked at their work and thought “meh.”

2010-2012

2013-2014

2015

I still see so much that needs to be better.