Fight for You

| Four |

2010  

"What if no one likes it? Or no one even visits it? " I worried out loud.

"Nonsense. Don't be so ridiculous. Your work is too good not to share with the world. If you won't put it up in a gallery somewhere then let people see it there, on the internet" 

"But a blog, really? I don't even know what to write. I'm terrible at this kind of thing. I'm not funny or captivating." 

"You are funny. You are captivating." Finn stood behind me, planting a reassuring kiss on my hair. I could feel him breathing in the smell of my hair before he went back to the kitchen.

"You're just saying that because you don't want to be exiled to the couch" I yelled back at him.

"Can't blame a guy for trying" 

How he had convinced me to start a blog for my photography, I wasn't really sure. It was late Friday night, we'd gotten home after a post-work pub crawl with friends, that Finn had managed to talk me into showing my work off. My head was in a slight haze from far too many glasses of Pinot Gris as I signed up for the blog site. 

Photography is one of my passions. After an impulse purchase of a brand new DSLR, I had become quite attached to the hobby. I took my camera with me nearly everywhere. Constantly clicking away at anything and everything I thought would make an eye-catching image. I became obsessed with the perfect lighting, the perfect angle. ISO, aperture, warmth, depth all became regular parts of my vocabulary.
Over the last two years, I had developed a unique style. It was hard to describe and put into words. That was something my friends had praised me on and had said that is what made my work brilliant. I hardly ever shot people properly. Also, one of the reasons why my venture into portrait photography was a lost cause and I stepped away from it after only three months. I could never capture the smiles on peoples faces, always managing to show their vulnerability and their different emotions. Those were the expressions I longed to see in my subjects. A lot of the happiness that they showed was fake anyway and all for show. I wanted to see what they really felt, what was inside, and no one seemed to want to pay for that. So my photography became something I did on the side, in my spare time. 
A couple of friends had seen some of my images and asked if they could hang them in their homes, offices and one was made into a phone cover. I was flattered that they admired my work. They knew how much I loved my own work and happily displayed my images, even if they didn't fully understand them.

I don't understand paintings and sculptures. The stories behind them and what the artist is trying to convey. Nine times out of ten, the artist explanation was something completely different to what I was really understanding or feeling. I always felt that art is something personal. Everyone interprets a piece in their own way. My aim was to never expect anyone to feel the same emotions I felt when viewing my work, it was only to make them feel something, their own feelings, anything. Just feel something. If I managed to make someone feel, even if they hated the images, then I had achieved everything I had intended. 

"What have you got to lose babe? If no one likes your work they must not understand your brilliance. I on the other hand. Think you are amazing. Talented. Exceptionally beautiful"

"And...?"

"And... I think you should shut that thing down, take off those clothes and be my muse for once"

I followed his instructions, closing the lid on my laptop and slowly unbuttoned my shirt, following him to the bedroom to pose just the way he wanted me. 

********************

My blog had been online for a little over 6 months. There had been a steady stream of visitors and followers. I had also been active on most other social media platforms posting my images on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter. Most of my followers had come from Instagram when one of my images had been included in an online article on Buzzfeed. 
There was no schedule that I stuck to for posting. In the first month, I was posting every other day. I had a list hanging on the wall in my home office of all the images I was going to post and the specific date. When the second month came round I couldn't mentally keep up. I was drained and was losing faith in myself. I had worried, like in the initial sign-up phase, that I wasn't captivating and I was losing touch. I took a break for a few weeks and seemed to find my groove again. I decided to let my inspiration happen more organically.