Something Old, Something New | Jing + Joe Maternity Session

This shoot may be my least prepared session ever. To what extent? The mom-to-be didn’t even know I was going to take photos of her until the moment when I showed up and took out my camera. Well, I didn’t have a choice.

I was away from New York for two months this summer. Before I took off, for some reason Jing just didn’t think she looked pregnant enough for the photo shoot, although to me she definitely looked “super pregnant”. And then when I finally came back and checked in with her, she told me that she was almost due. So, what could I do? I paid her a visit right after, with my camera bag of course.

Understandably, as a 97% due mom-to-be, Jing had no interest in putting on makeup, no plan on changing various outfits, no spare energy to make the diaper-filled and baby proof apartment “picture-perfect”, and obviously was too heavy to move around and get some nice outdoor setting (I am actually not sure if "heavy" is accurate here, as in her own words, she felt like a "(hot) ballon" which could fly away any minute). 

Okay, I will see what I can do. 

At this point, it probably appears to you that I was not treating this client very “seriously”… That’s not incorrect by the common standard of seriousness. In fact, Jing has been one of my best friends since college. We took the same flight from China to the States, many many years ago, and we didn’t hate each other after that 15-hour flight, which was a good start I guess. On campus, I lived in Mary Munford #345 and she lived in #346, which was completely serendipity. We selected the classes independently but ended up having exactly the same schedule in the first semester. I understand that becoming besties requires some commonalities, not just serendipity, and we definitely had that. For example, we had similar sense of time and refused to wake up before 7:45 for the 8:00 Calculus class. Both of us appreciated the beauty of a “carefree” lifestyle and therefore remained to be the messy (but sort of clean) type. So that now whenever Blowfish, who is always driven crazy by my relatively casual housekeeping style, starts wondering how bad my dorm room was in college, my answer is always “It was better than Jing’s anyways”.

Meanwhile, we had differences: one was quite fashion-forward while the other had absolutely no sense of that; one could understand the classes without any difficulty while the other couldn’t really take decent notes in the first three months; one made friends and became known quite quickly while the other struggled quite a bit and remained “low-key” (not purposely of course) for a while… I am not gonna tell you which is which but if you know her (and/or me) and can’t tell, you have a problem. Luckily those “differences” didn’t set us apart. She was my private English tutor for all the things I felt too embarrassed to ask; she lent me the notes after class although I actually ended up getting better grades (ha!). She failed miserably to help me become “popular” in college but let me third-wheel her relationship for a few years, until one day, I finally realized that I really didn’t have to accept their “courtesy invite” to the dinner every Friday…

Sometimes I get really jealous when I hear people telling their crazy college time stories. I feel FOMO that I was almost “too normal” in college and never did anything that crossed the line, even just a bit. Now, I could actually think of one, with Jing of course, when we were both working as part-time shelvers at the school library. We two always signed up for the same shifts. I was usually the one shelving the newspapers and magazines while Jing was the one shelving the books back to a very old section of the library. One day, when I smuggled a gossip magazine for her during the shelving break, we both noticed that almost empty book cart, which could actually fit one person in… We looked at each other. After a second of hesitation, I jumped in. Then she started pushing the cart, faster and faster and faster, along the aisles in the dimly-lit library where people rarely visited (thank goodness)… And I think you’ve got that picture in your head. My only wish at this moment is our library supervisor then is not reading this blog.

As I have grown older, I have learned to appreciate and cherish more some “old stuff”: that pair of old flats which I keep wearing when I want to be a bit easier on myself; that old pen with which I know my thoughts will flow out like the rain in the summer; that old friend in front whom I will never be afraid of embarrassing myself.

On the weekends during college, Jing and I visited the most famous shopping mall in town at that time, called the Fashion Square, quite often. One day in the Foot Locker, we saw a pair of super cute tiny baby sneakers. We loved it so much that we promised each other: whoever has kids first in the future, will get that pair of shoes as a gift from the other. So guys - I gotta stop here. I have some new stuff to buy, for some dear old friend.

New York, New York | Fiona + Edgar Engagement Session

I have never been a crazily popular person in my life, and I don’t have a crazy amount of friends. However, what I can say for sure is that I have a few very good ones, including this guy from Puerto Rico whom I called “Fab”, as this is pretty much his name as well as the fact that I think he is truly “Fabulous” (the same way as I use the word “Fantastic” to explain my name when ordering take-outs on the phone). Something that I have learned with time is that fabulous people always introduce you to other fabulous people, such as this time, Edgar and Fiona.

Now after this session is over, I think I can be honest here on my blog: I was so fr**king nervous before this session! Fiona and Edgar would love to have their photos taken in Central Park and the Brooklyn Bridge, two of the most well-known icons of New York City. Don’t get me wrong - I love both places to death (esp. given that Blowfish is a landscape architect, I kinda have to…) However, as for an engagement shoot, what do I do with the people in the background? More importantly, just as I ask myself before every session: how do I get some photos that are very “Edgar & Fiona”, and “Edgar & Fiona” only? However, the reality proved that I worried too much, as this fabulous couple made it super easy for me.

Of course, at the beginning, there was this little “Man... this is awkward” moment, for all of us - even I felt weird at first when Blowfish and I did the self-portrait! So I used these moments for the standard yo-we-are-engaged-and-look-at-that-thing-on-my-left-hand poses. Once everybody got over this hump, the authentic “Edgar & Fiona” stuff started flowing out... and man, it never went back :P

Oh, did I also mention that Edgar basically gave me a free concert by humming Salsa music throughout the entire session? Although it appears that he thought he was only keeping it to himself. I am not sure if he used that tactic to ease his “photo anxiety” but that made me wanna dance almost immediately… You might wonder what I think is the most “Edgar & Fiona” moment of this photo shoot? Com’on, what beats it when a Puerto Rican grabs the hand of his love and starts dancing salsa in Central Park???

As we were walking out of the park at the end of this session, Edgar finally told me that they were moving to Seattle this fall and these photos would be the memory of their life together in this city. To Edgar and Fiona, Central Park and the Brooklyn Bridge are New York. Then I couldn’t help asking myself: after spending six years here, what does “New York” mean to me? What photos would I want to take, one day, that symbolize “my” New York?

Hmm… Maybe it is the Halal Cart downstairs that almost became my "cafeteria" when I first moved to New York; or maybe it is the countless subway encounters that were either amazingly lovely or unbelievably crazy. Maybe it is Cafe Lalo where Blowfish and I go grab our favorite Tres Leches cake at 1am… A friend visiting from Hong Kong last week told me that she still gets butterflies every time she is in New York. I didn't ask what her butterflies were like, but that made me think, for me, maybe it is not really the chicken over rice, the South-Ferry bound 1 train, or the 3-layer cake that make this city so special to us, but the people, the moments, the stories, and the emotions that we have already secretly captured in our hearts …

My friends, next time when we meet, tell me about your butterflies, will you?

To Six Years and Counting | Blowfish + Fan At Home Anniversary Session

Since I started dating Blowfish, I have never received flowers/chocolate/cards on Valentine’s day. I still remember clearly how he defined February 14th when I was getting so pumped to celebrate our first Valentine’s day together: the day between February 13th and 15th. As someone who likes celebrating every possible holiday, I almost broke up with him because of that.

Luckily, throughout these years I gradually understood that instead of out right rejecting a celebratory lifestyle, he is just not a big fan of more and more commercialized holidays, which I learned to respect. As a result, we agreed to celebrate the occasions which mean more to us specifically (aka the days that nobody else cares enough to jack up prices on restaurants etc.), like our dating anniversary – there is no such rule as married couple cannot celebrate dating anniversaries, right?

It was our sixth dating anniversary about two weeks ago. By “tradition”, Blowfish usually decides on a restaurant and I decide on some sort of activity we do together. So this year, he picked Union Square Café based on an article he read on a magazine, and what did I pick? A DIY at-home photography session. After a pretty long pause, of course he said, “Yes Dear”.

Blowfish had “a thing” with photos – he does not like being photographed and hates taking photos of others even more, the latter of which explains two things: 1) why I have an awkward snow angel Facebook profile picture throughout four seasons in the past three years already; and 2) why his previous relationship(s) became an ultimate challenge for him. You know what’s funny about life? He married a photographer, ha!

Doing self-portrait is a challenge, especially in such confined place. It involves quite some guesswork and trial-and-error. However, it pushed me to discover interesting perspectives, to be creative about composing the frame, and to capture moments out of the ordinary. Since I was more than appreciative already that Blowfish agreed to do this with (or for) me, I made sure this shoot was logistically well prepared, for him: treats (coffee, beer and snacks) to keep him well fed, jokes to keep him mentally relaxed, working in intervals to keep him physically energized, and some psychological tactics to keep him emotionally devoted. And, you know another funny thing about life? I ended up drinking all the beer, ate all the snacks, requested multiple breaks, while he sat there commenting, “This is actually kinda fun.” Marriage changes people.

Let the pictures talk for a bit.

Above – Blowfish was teaching me how to feel relaxed in front of the camera, which I was not very familiar with apparently.

Above – “Okay let’s see what’s up there… those pigeons had better not drop their crap into our mouths…”

Above – Blowfish showed me the article that inspired him to pick our dinner spot.

If I have to pick a word to describe my experience with Blowfish in the past six years, well, I think it would be “liberating”, just the way I feel a healthy relationship should be. I feel more liberated from my inner struggles with myself, from others’ opinions about me, and from my prejudice to others as well. I feel freer from breaking the curse of “what I should do” to pursue “what I want to do”: maybe I can cut my hair short, maybe it is okay I don’t feel that resonated with stocks and bonds, maybe it is not impossible for me to get six-pack as well, maybe learning a third language is not just a dream, maybe sharing my thoughts and photos through a website is not a bad idea, maybe putting down the camera for a bit when I don’t feel it makes sense, maybe “living a depressing life now” does not necessarily guarantee me “living a happy life in the future”.

At the end of the dinner, Blowfish asked me how I felt about hitting the sixth year landmark in our relationship. “Decent,” I responded. “Wanna do another six?” He asked. “Sure.” I said.

So cheers, to six years and counting.

“I (REALLY) don't care"

If I have to count the phrases that I have heard most since I moved to the States, “I don’t care” is high on the list. Well, there are a few synonyms, such as “I don’t give it a f*ck”, “I don’t give it a damn”, “I could care less” – you know what I mean.

Whoever says that sounds so badass – “I know you probably don’t like me… but I don’t care.” However, I could never take those words seriously because you can always say you don’t care, but in reality, how can you not? But lately I started realizing that there are REAL people in this world who actually REALLY mean it when they say it, and that puzzles me: how can you not care?

“Care-free”, “light-hearted” are the words my parents/teachers/friends/Blowfish never used on me, because I was totally the opposite: I became super concerned the second when my friends didn’t appear as happy as five minutes before; I was worried whenever I got a new haircut because I was afraid my classmates would not be “used to” my new look and would talk behind me; I hesitated whether I should tell my friends a story that I thought was pretty funny but waited until the time passed because there was a chance they might not like it. You name it.

My parents apparently noticed my struggle and kindly offered their advice early on: Fan, you should stop thinking too much.

Some of my close friends finally noticed my struggle too and offered their advice along the way: Fan, you should stop caring about what others think of you.

Great point guys, but how? To me this is just like telling a student who is falling asleep in class  – “You, over there, stay awake.” Tell me if that really works.

So I finally decided to give it a more serious thought myself. I think ultimately it comes down to understanding two aspects: 1) what is my ultimate fear when others don’t speak highly of me, and 2) if that fear is well supported.

2017, New York City

First of all, what is my fear? If someone comments that my new hairstyle is not that flattering, I think they are saying I have very bad taste and I feel embarrassed; if someone comments that a photo I just posted on Instagram is not artistic at all, I think they are saying that it is such a joke that I even strive to be a photographer; if my friend doesn’t laugh at my jokes, I think they are saying I am boring as hell. Essentially, I care about what others say about me or my work is because I believe THEIR view defines MY value: a funny story/sharp observation/perfect photo with a hundred “likes”/positive comment in general defines Fan as a valuable friend/co-worker/photographer/human being and then I can claim I am appreciated by this world. Applying the same logic, a lack of response to my storytelling/photo with only five “likes”/negative comment simply means Fan is valueless and thus not appreciated by this world. I am scared that I am perceived as valueless rather than valuable, and thus I care about what others say about me.

Makes sense overall, but only if you agree 100% that whatever measure I used above would reasonably define your value. For example, do you think you are a boring/valueless friend because your story last time was not that funny? And do your friends agree with that conclusion? Or do you think you are a valueless photographer because only twenty people “liked” your photo? And why do you think the other missing eighty people defined your lack of value, while the twenty people didn’t define the presence of your value?

If your honest answer is yes that you truly believe people’s view reasonably defines how much value you have, I want to share with you a secret weapon I treasured: I am pretty sure you forgot one person in selecting the panel of judges – yourself. Whenever I feel rejected by this world again nowadays, I usually start asking myself: Fan, what do YOU think? For example, I got a pair of pretty goofy glasses last year and wore them to work. One of my co-workers saw me and said “Holy sh*t those glasses are weird on you!” I did panic for five seconds honestly and almost rushed back home immediately to put on my contacts instead, then I paused and asked myself: do “I” like the goofy look? Absolutely. Another example, I sometimes post a photo on Instagram expecting one million likes (ballpark), but only got twelve and felt my dream of becoming a world-class photographer was hopelessly shattered. Feeling extremely embarrassed, I wanted to bury my head underground and close my account immediately. Then I asked myself: do “I” like that photo? Yes – so they are still active now. Similarly, if you tell your friends a funny story and people do not laugh to death - do YOU still think that’s a good story to share?

2016, #Blowfish Project

When I was younger I somehow thought I had this superpower (or a better word, fantasy) that if I tailor myself to others’ preferences a little bit, I can become more likable and will be happier. Then as I grow older, I realize that man, people are really hard to please – they like one thing today and a different thing tomorrow. I may post a photo that Blowfish speaks so highly of, but my mother comments like “Dear, what the hell is that? I cannot even see her face clearly!” I start wondering: since I don’t know how many people I can please this time and how many people I will piss of, and I absolutely have no control which side wins, why don’t I just please that one person who, for sure, will like it – which is myself?

If you are still reading at this point, I think I can start telling you how the hell this blog post relates to photography. Mostly it is not – as I mentioned in my bio, sometimes Blowfish cannot even take my overwhelming thoughts so I let it out here. But there is a little bit relevance still – I want to share with you what made me decide to finally start my own website. Objectively, it is no more than paying some money and uploading some photos. However, it means something more to me. I started taking photos many years ago, when I had a serious crush on a guy who was a hardcore amateur photographer and I wanted to create some common topics. (And you are right – that guy is not Blowfish.) But I rarely shared my photos with any friends or online because I was so scared that others would laugh at me and I would for sure be embarrassed to death. Starting from last year, for some reason I gained a bit courage in acknowledging some of my fears, including the fear that people would think I am totally worthless if they see my photos. Acknowledgement was actually the first step to help me realize that particular fear is not that big of a deal because at this moment, I care more about letting my thoughts out, and sharing a different angle of looking at this world with the people who are interested in it rather than proving to the world that I am the best photographer (although I don’t actually know what “the best photographer in the world” means yet). Plus, I actually like every single photo I posted on my website or Instagram myself although there is always room for improvement. What also helps is that as I know more people, I noticed that people are generally pretty busy caring about themselves first, so not that many people will actually care to laugh at me.

Yesterday I was organizing some old photos from a road trip to Arizona with Blowfish and my parents back in 2013. I found a photo of me and Blowfish posing in front of the Grand Canyon. I stared at that photo laughing non-stop for a good two minutes – man, what a happy chubby girl I was back then! Imagine me putting on 25 pounds and feeling totally proud and beautiful - if you are my friend, do not even think about getting this photo.

I showed it to Blowfish, who looked at it, paused for 20 seconds, and said “Gosh - I guess love is blind.” “No honey”, I said, “Love is not blind. Love made you see me through.”

2014, New York City

In the end, I don’t think Blowfish, my parents, my close friends, can individually define how valuable I am, although they weight much more than a random person from wherever. Because, ultimately, if I don’t see the value I possess by being myself, I will for sure project that conclusion onto every single one around me, and convince myself that the world simply doesn’t like me.

Life is too short to let that happen to you, my friends.

My “Comfort Zone” in Street Photography

My confession: I didn’t know street photography was a pretty legit type of photography until earlier this year. I always thought it was called “I-have-to-shoot-this-because-I-have-nowhere-cool-to-go” photography. Apparently I was wrong.

Earlier this year, I signed up for the first street photography workshop in my life – Eric Kim’s Composition in Street Photography, which is one of the best decisions I have made in 2016. In this post, I would love to share a thought that has been occupying my mind lately.

Nine months after that workshop, I think, I was still “traumatized” from that experience. Here me out.

Eric has such a saying that in street photography, creepiness is proportional to focal length. So - get close. Every photographer defines his/her own style. For Eric, he likes taking candid photos without asking for permissions most of the time. However, for the people who know me well – that is a bit too bold. As part of the workshop, he dedicated about 45 minutes shooting with me and my partner exclusively while we talked down the 5th avenue in New York on a busy Saturday afternoon. During that 45 minutes, I still remember the moment when he “alerted me” with a blink - “Fan, right behind you - a VERY interesting couple - GO!” So I turned back and tried to get a shot within an arm’s length (assuming people would not punch me because Eric was right there with me and my shooting partner was a pretty big guy...) That couple shied away from me immediately so I didn’t get it. “That happens”, Eric said with a shrug and we moved on. I tried the same technique a couple of times on that weekend – some success some failure. But whenever recalling that experience shortly after the workshop, I felt rather uncomfortable, or even embarrassed because of the implied rejection.  I thought I would get over it pretty quickly, because just like a lot of motivational speakers taught me – I just need to push myself harder next time to get out of my comfort zone. Sure – I can do that.

No, I couldn’t.

I started realizing it has become a bigger issue lately because every time I tried to pick up my camera to do some street photos in the past several months, I heard a voice in my head - “Fan, get close to the subjects! Get out of that comfort zone!” Then immediately I felt the familiar dread. I told myself that if I feel comfortable when I am shooting in the street, I am not pushing myself hard enough and I am not becoming a better photographer. In other words, if I am not uncomfortable, I am not doing it right. In reality? When I am that uncomfortable, I simply stop doing it… And then, I asked myself: why did I take photos again? If I am so dreadfully uncomfortable that I stop doing it, what is the point of me getting out of that comfort zone anyways?

Finally, I realize that I may have taken those motivational speeches a bit too literally. People don’t get out of that comfort zone simply for the sake of getting themselves uncomfortable. When making that extra baby step out of my comfort zone truly brings me challenge, growth, and more fun that it justifies – I am all in. But when I go farther than I would like to and stop having fun – I step back closer to my zone. After all, having fun in photography and making photos that truly touch me emotionally is what matters ultimately, and that happens to be something I easily forget sometimes.

2016, New York

On the same Saturday afternoon, I “hid” myself from the overwhelming crowd on 5th avenue, in a quiet corner of Grand Central. I spotted a scene, took a deep breath, went up and asked politely if I could take a photo of him. I got the photo above.

 Eric loves it. More importantly, so do I.