Leaning into the Wind
When I first met my fellow research assistants to begin discussing Shakespeare’s sonnets, I didn’t expect that our encounter would lead to a misty morning meeting on the parking lot rooftop with one of my new friends. But that’s where I found myself this morning, leaning into the wind as I posed for a series of photographs.
Though I did 4-H photography projects in high school, I have since changed my artistic focus to drawing and painting. Yet I still feel drawn to photos, referencing them for my visual art and searching through them to find inspiration for my characters. Since I was used to being the person behind the camera in my photography days, I embraced the opportunity to engage with photography from a new perspective.
I was almost wary of using the word “modeling” since the word evokes so many negative connotations. Many communities and texts relate the modeling industry to vanity, consumerism, and materialism, and my first reaction was to distance myself from that. How, I wondered, can I talk about this differently? Does standing in front of a camera for the sake of the images alone mean I’m promoting Western conventions of beauty?
My dilemma reminded me of a book I’ve been reading on cure. As the author describes the complexity of cure and its relations to the medical-industrial complex, he talks about the simultaneous existence of multiple realities — cure heals people, and yet the implications of cure harm the disabled community even as they seek to help.
Despite the seeming lack of relation between cure and modeling, this discussion of concurrent realities helped me understand my perception of modeling. I had always seen photography as a compelling art, a way to speak through the images found and created in life. But these preconceptions of modeling had made me wary of standing in front of the camera. Exploring these concepts of cure and the innate contradictions of their realities helped me come to terms with my enthusiasm to model for the photo shoot. The concerns that first came to my mind were realities, yet underneath them rested other realities that were equally valid. How would these photographers bring their art to fruition if no one modeled for photos?
Modeling also led me to consider the artistic interaction of the model and the photographer. As I posed for her photos, I leaned into my photography and acting experience to interact with my friend’s ideas. As we continued the shoot, music weaving through the rushing wind, it felt more and more like art, and I accepted the complexity of modeling’s different perceptions and realities. It felt more active and engaging than my preconceptions had allowed me to believe, and I became more comfortable embracing my excitement.
After the shoot, my friend and I talked about meeting up again to take more photos. As we talked, she taught me more about photography the gender biases in the industry. She mentioned her ideas for other photo shoots, and I can’t wait to help her bring her ideas to life. I’m ready to embrace these contradictions, the fun and excitement of modeling despite my preconceptions. I’m ready to lean into the wind again.