wearing masks

 of flesh and blood (2012)

"We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin."

I've been feeling quite introspective lately...and it wasn't until after I took this photo recently that I began to notice the frequency with which I use masks -- both literally and figuratively -- in my self-portraits. For me, self-portraiture is a way to visually document my thoughts, dreams, fears, and joys. So if that's the case, what am I revealing about myself?

So I wanted to share some of my past masked self-portraits and tell you a little bit about why I made it, or what it means for me now.

there are some remedies worse than the disease (2009)

I had just finished watching the movie Surrogates, in which people in a futuristic world interacted with each other not with their own bodies, but through a robotic version of themselves. These "surrogates" would experience life for you --beautiful, perfect, and impervious to sickness and danger -- while the "real" you would live at home in isolation. I think the concept moved me deeply, because the idea isn't too different from all the online interaction and social media we use today. The fact that I'm writing this blog post right now, behind a computer screen, and will publish it online without ever stepping outside, is proof of that, isn't it? So I think in this image I wanted to convey a sense of loss of one's true identity, the real self we hide under a mask of something artificial and seemingly impenetrable.

dress up (2010)

When I originally uploaded this to my flickr, I wrote, "I am 29 years old and I still play dress-up." It's funny, the things we put on our bodies to fit in with social conventions. Another mask? I think so. I may lounge around at home in pajama pants and a holey shirt, but I'll definitely put on something nicer when I'm going out to meet friends for dinner. It's more than just clothes too....tattoos, piercings, how we cut our hair...another layer. Another mask. We're all just trying to fit in with our own particular modern day tribe.

 little bird (2010)

When I bought this old bird cage at a Spanish flea market, I had a feeling I would end up wearing it for a photo. Like the title suggests, I wanted to convey the sense of being locked away like a little bird in a cage. Safe, but confined. And now that I'm looking at this image again, it reminds me of a book I've been reading lately by Desmond Morris called The Human Zoo. He's a zoologist who proposes that people who live in confined, urban environments (cities, basically) exhibit the behavior that resembles that of captive animals, such as stress, random violence, self-mutilation, attacking offspring, etc. It's a fascinating book. He writes in the Introduction:

"The modern human animal is no longer living in conditions natural for his species. Trapped, not by a zoo collector, but by his own brainy brilliance, he has set himself up in a huge, restless menagerie where he is in constant danger of cracking under the strain."

 there's something wrong with my head... (2009)

I've always sort of felt like I never really fit in. Growing up, I moved from place to place so often, so maybe I never had time to. Or maybe I use that as an excuse. So I sit on the outside a lot. I observe. But I'm comfortable with that now. I can hide easily. I do it all the time behind the camera lens. Even when I'm in front of the lens, with all these weird self-portraits, I'm still hiding, showing only a small part of myself. See me, but don't see me. Here I am, but not all of me. I think this self-portrait epitomizes that feeling. Also, I wanted to see what I'd look like with an ink blot as my head :)

hair sculpture art by Nagi Noda

I came across the work of Nagi Noda recently, a Japanese artist who made some amazing and playful "hair hats" using hair weaves shaped over wire mesh. So brilliant! I think the "hair as spaghetti" is my favorite though, from a conceptual point of view.

You can see more of her work here.

little bits of home

I feel like I'm slacking with this blog. I'm a slacker. So to make myself feel a bit better, I shall share photos of some corners of my home. I took all these with the VSCO CAM app on my iPhone. Enjoy with a side of Cool Ranch.

home sweet home.

has it already been a year??

The Mister and I arrived in San Diego approximately one year ago, and my mind is blown. We found a fantastic place to live, we met great people who've turned into close friends, we explored our city, and I kept going with my photography. I feel so incredibly lucky that this is my life.

I put together this little video yesterday as a two minute visual reminder of what this past year has been like. It's (nearly) every single photo I've taken since I arrived here, complete with iPhone photos, 35mm film photos, and DSLR photos.

the first year from Lisa Kimberly on Vimeo.

When I watch this, it occurs to me that the reason I obsessively document my life is pretty simple: to help me remember. I can barely remember things from my childhood, or even college for that matter, unless I'm looking through a photo album that shows those periods of my life. So all these silly photos I take, day in and day out, it makes up my own digital family album. And that is a precious thing to me.

Photography aside, I'd also like to list my unofficial San Diego Pros and Cons.

Pros:

1. My neighborhood. Downtown La Mesa is my jam. From my house, I can walk to the grocery store, the post office, the library, the farmer's market, Friday food trucks, the trolley, antique shops, coffee shops, and a bunch of bars and restaurants. If I didn't like the rest of San Diego so much, I'd never drive.

2. If you've never been a great parallel parker, this city will whip you into shape quick. I'm pretty sure I do more parallel parking here than I ever did in Spain. And not to brag, but even with my boat of a station wagon, my method is now flawless.

3. Sun. Lots of it. Sometimes this is a con though (see below). It's like Spain all over again, except most people speak English and I can shop on Sundays. 

4. All the different neighborhoods. As much as I love La Mesa, it can't fulfill all my needs all the time. So maybe I'll pop over to North Park and people-watch the hipsters as I eat at a vegan Mexican place. Or maybe I'll take the trolley to downtown to get that urban city feel. Ocean Beach has perfected that 70's beach town vibe, and if I wanna feel really poor, I can wander through affluent neighborhoods like La Jolla and Del Mar (this is all tongue-in-cheek though, I love all these places).

5. San Diego is amazingly dog-friendly. I'm not sure why I'm listing this, since I don't have a dog, but it's still really nice to see. I always see people with their dogs sitting on patios of local eateries, and a lot of places will put out food and water bowls for them. And tons of dog parks everywhere. It's basically dog-topia.

6. Living in San Diego and not liking beer is like living in Antarctica and not liking ice. Okay, maybe not, but I do love the local beer selection here. And if you're one of those people that has never liked the taste of beer, come visit me, and I will prove that you just haven't tasted enough beers to make that statement.

7. I'm about a two hour drive from all my favorite people on television. If I ever decide to stalk Jon Hamm, it'd be totally easy right?

8. Mexican food. That is all.

Cons:

1. Sun. Lots of it. It gets a bit much at times. Even more so since I live inland. Sometimes I just want three cloudy or rainy days in a row in the middle of summer. Is that too much to ask?

2. It's true, I do miss the change of seasons that I got while living on the east coast. I totally took it for granted.

3. Old house = No AC = Not super fun times. August and September were brutal. Anything over 80 degrees outside was like Satan's armpit in my house. 

4. Honestly, I can't think of any more cons. Just writing those three above makes me feel slightly whiny and ungrateful. Which I'm not. I feel incredibly lucky to be living here.

So here's to year two! :)