Six or seven years ago, I saw a stunning photo in Vanity Fair of the David and Gladys Wright house in Phoenix. The photographer's name was Andrew Pielage. A few months later I read about a photographer named Andrew in Architectural Digest. According to the article, Andrew was on a quest to photograph every Frank Lloyd Wright structure still standing in the world. The article mentioned that he taught workshops at Taliesin, Taliesin West, and Fallingwater.
I noted the workshop information as I was on a quest to find another creative outlet. I had a new camera that I'd used twice
Then, in the short time between seeing the first photo and finding the article, the summer of 2017 turned into a summer of loss as I unexpectedly found myself mourning my dad and two friends, all who left this world within two months.
I found the photo workshops online and signed up for one in December with the obvious goal of using my new-ish camera, but the underlying goal to keep moving, to not let grief overwhelm me.
In late November, I boarded my flight to Phoenix. I spent a couple days in Sedona, hiked, and made my first visits to the Desert Botanical Garden and Camelback Mountain. I soaked up the desert sun and fell in love with ancient saguaros.
I arrived for the first day of the workshop late -thanks, Uber! - and started learning and creating. It was challenging and beautiful, invigorating, and frustrating. Andrew was, and is, amazing - patient, calm, generous, funny, and the distributor of Oreos.
That weekend and over the following months and years, I found more than I could have expected or hoped for. This was a group of photographers turned friends - some might call us the usual suspects. We travel and meet up across the country to learn, to create, to make pictures. The group changes and evolves but at least four or five of us show up at the workshops. And at every workshop, we add a couple more to the band.
These friends have stood in the shadows with me and helped me see the light.We have watched and documented sunrises (not always cheerfully) and sunsets in the desert, illuminating the rolling green hills of Wisconsin, and reflecting off waterfalls in Pennsylvania. We've toasted birthdays together and shared stories, some epic, some heartbreaking.
We chased shots through woods, stepping carefully over and around cacti in the desert, climbing on rocks and down embankments. But through it all, we never chased the light.
In 2019, just days before the anniversary of Sept 11, I stood with some of these friends, in a meadow of wildflowers, under a sky full of stars, and together we saw Jupiter. We saw Saturn. And I finally understood what Andrew meant when he said:
Let the light come to you.
For more information on Andrew and the photo workshops:
https://www.apizm.com/