I'm not lost on the irony that what helped advance my photography and Photoshop skills is now what haunts me daily.
I began the 365 project, on a whim, on December 22, 2006. No important date, just an arbitrary day at the end of December. I was quickly seduced by the group pool and all the possibilities. There are so many creative people in the world and, thanks to flickr, I was introduced to a few of them.
Over the course of the 365 project, I became more and more confident. "Hey, I'm not so bad." "I look pretty good in that shot." My self-esteem was rising, not just because of the bolstering from the flickr crowd, but because I was looking at myself in a photo. Every. Day.
When the 365 was concluding, I felt torn. What the hell was I going to do with myself?! How could I not keep taking a photo of myself? I didn't stop. I kept on going until...I stopped. It got old. My portraits were just crappy, end-of-the-day, arm's length shots. I felt a little relief and a lot of failure.
For a third time, I started in up again. It didn't last very long. I had an awesome new camera, but again, the arm's length shots were the rule, not the exception. So boring.
And now, while I have no desire for another year of the pictures, I am also short of ideas. I don't know what to take photos of. Nothing is appealing to me. Most things I see, I imagine my camera in front of my face, but I don't have the gumption to actually take the photo. Things have gotten so bad, I've been leaving my camera at home. This is sad, sad news. I am in constant internal conflict. Constant.
Today I attempted to take a few self-portraits. Abby is at my mom's and I have all the time in the world (OK, a few hours) to take some shots. I took 2 and I wanted to cry. I see myself now, as a soft, saggy blob. Where did the confidence go that I had when I was doing 365 the first time? I don't want to see myself anymore, but I don't know what else to see.