I often struggle to shoot my work. I lack the patience, the equipment, and there is a certain amount of something else that is necessary to take a good photograph that I can't identify, let alone possess. Is it an ability to see what's in front of you in a way that isn't apparent? Photographers find secret things in their work, things when photographed, I tend to lose. I think my sculptures look better in real life, but very very few people see my work in person. Most encounter it online. This is a troubling knowledge. My photographs are largely awful. I can't seem to capture posture in a photograph, even though I strive for it painstakingly in process. I know I've begun to create something when the posture solidifies, but it evaporates under my lens.    

My beloved bought me a lightbox for Christmas. A large, sturdy, serious piece of equipment. I had a cheap one before but abandoned it in frustration when I failed to recreate my sculptures within it. I much preferred the natural light of my bookcase at 2pm. But I'm not sure this is a good way to feature my art. Is it too personal if shot on my bookcase? There's something about it that doesn't feel right to me. I don't want myself in the picture, only the light. And besides, I am never home at 2pm. I am rather completing a piece at 2am, hoping to ship it out the next morning and the lightbulbs in my overhead lights strike unjust shadows. For this reason there are so many sculptures that I never photograph at all. Some go out into the world and I have no tangible remembrance of their existence. I do forget them, I am sure I've forgotten a few completely. But they are out there somewhere, maybe loved, maybe not. My beloved believes we ought to find a way to keep their memory. He bought me a lightbox and I will learn to use it.  

the fleeting light of 2pm