When I just wrote that title, I wondered if it was true. Did I EVER dream that my life would come to this? I doubt it. When it comes to my photography, I just DID it. I didn't worry about where it was going; I just loved the process. So now that passion has placed me on the world stage, so to speak, how do I feel? Incredulous.
On New Year's Day my "Falling Into Place" self portrait essay was featured on the newest & brightest photography magazine online, "Burn." David Alan Harvey, the editor/curator, introduced my essay within his reflections on "Visions for 2009":
"Simultaneous with this New Year’s story , I present now (below) the work of Patricia Lay-Dorsey. She is one of my online prodigies. We have met in person during the year, but most of our collaboration has been online…Patricia is not a professional photographer. Patricia has had multiple sclerosis for 20 years and before she discovered photography she was obsessed with being a painter. Patricia does not aspire to become a magazine photojournalist, yet she is every bit as brave as iconic war photographer James Nachtwey. He would be the first to say so.
Patricia is a free spirit in the best sense. We have wrangled, scrambled and collaborated in the most amazing ways. Please appreciate Patricia, and then let Patricia appreciate you in the future."
CLICK HERE to see my "Falling Into Place" photo essay and read (post?) the comments in response to it.
Trust me. Taking photos is a piece of cake compared to creating an edit, finding music and writing text for an online magazine. I've worked on and thought about nothing else for over a week. I can't tell you how many emails and phone calls have flown between me in Detroit, David first in North Carolina and now in Colorado, and Anton, Burn's web master in Belgium. I've barely slept, hardly eaten, and generally been driving myself--and David and Anton--crazy. I have NOT been easy to work with. I've changed my mind too often, been ridiculously perfectionistic, and lived in a constant state of anxiety. It never seems to end.
So is it worth it? I sure hope so. My husband Ed says I'm coming into a new phase of "becoming" and am finding tangible "excuses" to try to explain my discomfort. He says I'm like a snake that has just shed its skin but has yet to recognize there's a new skin under the old one. Something in me has died but the new has yet to make itself known. I'm betwixt and between.
Well, whatever it is, I hope I'll settle down soon. I'd like to savor the moment if I can ever stop long enough to see it...
