About me: Not the 'Me" You'd Expect to See | Rhode Island Portrait Photographer

Well hello hello there!  Welcome to my very first bloggity blog post!  I figured, I’d go the route of normal for a hot second and make this an ‘about me’ post.  I thought about writing about my awesome life with my awesome fine art degree, and the inspiration that got me into photography; how I’m just so damn sweet and outgoing, and you are going to just love me!!  You’d expect something along those lines for an about me section, right?  Maybe how old I am? I’m 25 by the way.  My likes and dislikes perhaps? Likes-macaroni and cheese, fun fact I lived on this from ages 4-10. Dislikes- I have a lot, I’m human, shit ticks me off just like it does everyone else, don’t lie you know you’ve killed at least three people in your head already today, at the very least you've done that thing, where you pinch their heads with your fingers.  Today, went to Dunkin Donuts for an ice coffee- ¾ ice- ¼ coffee –(um hi, I needed a caffeine buzz, this is so not cutting it.)-dislike!  SO, as I sat here, trying to type up a little about me, I decided- nope! We’re doing this 'KP' style.  So, here it is folks- my story, my way.

I’m Katie, I’m quirky, I’m silly, I’m sarcastic, I’m “different”, and I like it that way.  I know 90% of the words to just about every song ever- but that 10% I don't know, I screw up so badly I might as well not know the other 90%, but guess what, I belt those puppies out while I drive alone in my car!  And no, I do not stop if I'm mid song at a red light! I prefer to see the humor in almost every situation; even the most inappropriate of ones- life is just more enjoyable if you laugh at it.  I often have a hard time deciding which parts of myself to show as a “business woman”- side note, hate the word woman.  Do I make this post on facebook?  Will everyone find the humor in this, or is this only outrageously hilarious to me?  Is this “business page appropriate”?  The answer I tell myself is, probably not, but post it anyways, this sh*t is noteworthy!!  In the end I usually wind up erasing my (amazeballs post) and re writing, and frankly it just doesn’t sound 100% “me” anymore.  Well, I think I’ll call that quits here, and now.

I WILL actually tell a little story how I got into photography; it is after all a big part of “me”.  It all started when I was about 8? Yes, I’m going back that far, deal with it- I swear it’s an awesome story.  I was always a super active (cough cough hyper active child), so when I got sick, who knows with what, let’s call it the flu, my poor mother didn’t know what to do with a cooped up little me.  Her solution was to toss a ton of crayons and markers my way and some Disney books and let me have a party (I loved craft time, so I’m sure she was hoping this would keep my attention long enough to keep my ass on the couch and recover).  Well, those Disney books and markers sort of changed my life.  I realized I could draw, kind of really well (toot toot).  Flash forward 10 years and lots of art classes and summers spent at RISD later, and it was decision time- you know that life altering moment where you choose a college, a career and a general life path… all at the age of 18- because you are so ready to decide where you want your life to go at the ripe old age of-careless and selfish.  Well, I was vehemently opposed to anything, and I mean ANYTHING related to the arts.  A career path that was enjoyable for me, say what?! Of course not, I simply cannot make art a job said the thick headed 18 year old- no, I want to major in something healthcare related, preferably at least  5-10 states away from home.  One too many college visits, and one super bribe from my dad (hello there, fancy new Nissan Alitima! Goodbye purple Buick) later, and I was enrolled at URI in….. Pharmacy. (WTF?!)  This was ok for all of a semester, then came kinesiology.  I was still adamant that I would never have a job in the arts.

  Until one day, I realized something…. In three short years I would actually NEED a job- like for real real- I Katie, would need to have a career, and something clicked inside that thickheaded little brain of mine.  I wanted that career to be something I LOVED. Something I woke up in the morning excited to do AGAIN… because that’s what a job is… it’s again, and again, and again- day after day.  I realized I didn’t want my cup of coffee to be my caffeine collar and leash, pulling me through a day of monotony just to pay the bills.  I wanted my  (¾ of ice and ¼ coffee) dunkin to be that spark that further ignited a passion that was already there, because I loved what I was doing.  I realized, I was meant to be an artist all along.  I went down to admissions (they knew me well there) and I switched majors for a third time in my freshman year, and I proudly walked into my first Fine Arts class the following week.  You’d think the internal struggle was over…. Hahaha have you not seen the pattern here? I am stubborn! 

I wanted to be a painter.

I never wanted to take a photography class.  Ever.  Just ask my professors, I’m sure they either found this endearing or wanted to punch me square in the throat… I’d like to think both- frankly I probably deserved a slap or two, but I’d like to think my tenacity is somewhat endearing.  'I am a painter said I, painters do not take photos.' 

I was wrong.

So, very, wrong.

Three years later, the first true love of my life came along, and I call him Casimir, my nephew.  One year after that, the second biggest joy in my life came along, and his name is Callum.  A camera has been in my hands ever since, not one moment of their wee little lives will I miss.

I was wrong.  Painters can be photographers, what I once painted with a brush, I now paint with a lens and a computer.

I am an artist, and I am a photographer, and I love it.