OMKLLA

"You must fill the emptiness. You either go mad or you become an artist. -- Pedro Almodovar

WIP! WTF?

My stomach already has butterflies just thinking about it.

Anyone who knows me, knows my fear of public speaking... deep-rooted, overwhelming, sweaty-palmed, knock-kneed fear... and they know that I'm freaking out right now.

The range of emotions of being asked to speak somewhere is complex: flattery, excitement, dread, fear, relief.

The Women in Photojournalism conference is exactly one month away -- and I've officially entered into dread. I feel so inadequate these days and so uninspired. And I'm struggling with the why of it all.

Why me?

Why now?

Why do I feel like I have nothing to contribute to the world?

Why do I do this to myself?

It's a Small World, Afterall

Rereading old words, I stumbled across something from a few years ago, during a brief time spent in the Middle East. I remember the mornings in Jerusalem, sitting outside on my balcony, sipping hot tea, and trying to warm up to the day. There's a certain energy in that city, that buzzes through the air and makes you feel alive. I wrote a lot then, couldn't stop the pulse flowing from my fingertips, or the excitement of new observations and ideas.

Funny, the conversations you'll have... thousands of miles from home... that make you realize how small this world is.... From 2004:

Mohamoud, my fixer in Gaza has worked for everyone.

His least favorite person to work for? Larry Towell. Mohamoud described him to me as an asshole. Too green when he shot Then Palestine, and too ill-informed on what he was getting himself into (probably a predecessor to my previous thought on the skill vs. time argument. He unlike most, rose to the depth of the situation, even though he didn't know what the fuck he was doing. Many times, Mohamoud said he was tapping Towell on the shoulder, saying you should probably shoot that, it's important. Or come take a look at this, because you're looking in the wrong places. They used to talk on the phone all the time, Towell calling him from the states after his frist trip to Gaza, constantly inquiring about the "real" situation, as opposed to what t.v. was showing. They'd talk for hours. And then on Mohamoud's prompting, that things were heating up to a new level of intensity, and stating that something was bound to happen soon, Towell traveled back to the region. Once he got here, he didn't call Mohamoud once. Didn't stop by to say hi or anything. It's a small area, and word travels fast about who's there and who's doing what. Suffice to say after that, which in a very polite Arab society was seen as a cold, hard dis... Needless to say, they had a falling out

His favorite? James Nachtwey, of course. "Jim is smooth," he'd say. "Smooth. Like silk." No harsh movements, no fast and sudden responses to the situation. Just very calm and calculated and thoughtful. Snap, snap, and he was done. "And they were the best pictures you've ever seen!" said Mohamoud. "Better than all those chicken's running around with their heads cut off, shooting everything but getting nothing." Smooth.

Cruise Control

It's been one of those weeks months where nothing has really come together. I had a project, that had amazing potential to be something worthwhile and long-term, fall through. I've been stuck in a suburban bureau as the sole photographer. And I've been been working the quantity over quality thing. I've shot 3 stories on roads (a dead end road, a let's talk about how great the road is, and a what happens if we expand the road in 2020 story) and more pictures of buildings that I care to admit. As well as signs, fountains, and a pair of golf socks that read "Divot Diva."

Needless to say, I've been on cruise control, and can't remember the last time I spent more than 45 minutes working an assignment. This is the best of the worst:



Mireya de los Santos , 31, center, was born in Mexico City, but her three children, Jennifer Sanchez, 9, Jessica Sanchez, 4, Emily Sanchez, 18 mos., (from left) were all born in the United States. De los Santos' situation raises an interesting question as to what happens to families that have one member facing deportation.



A small tube of fireworks that shot green flames, burned Fred Davis, 11, on the face, hands and chest. He was discharged from Tampa General Hospital after one day.



All About Puppies manager Amber Julian is all smiles as she holds a $1300 11-week old rottweiler puppy that was stolen from her store on Monday. With the help of a vehicle description and the surveillance video, the puppy was returned Thursday night around 10 p.m. by a Hillsborough County Sheriff's officer investigating the crime.



"He was my cousin, but he was like a brother to me," said Edward Ferguson, 18, as he sheds a tear after learning that Xavier "LT" Whitehead, 17, was shot during a robbery turned struggle at the Yasmin Food Market.

Happy Place

I'm going to my happy place.