Witch Storyboard - WIP
Storyboard from a 6 week online course with Rad Sechrist, focused on telling part of an original story. This small section of the story features a witch and her familiar who run a small shop together, and a meeting with a strange boy.
Storyboards from an online 6 week course I took in September under Rad Sechrist. Goal was to create a complete finished storyboard showing an original concept of my choosing. I learned a lot from him, and would love to go back into this and redo the boards to better completion one day using his feedback to improve the overall feel.
Fishing with Dad - Storyboard
My first storyboarding assignment from back in September.
Challenge was: to create a “Slice of Life” scene from a memory.
Minimum: 20 boards
Sarah & Austin - Bluebonnet Barn
Had the honor of photographing Sarah & Austin's wedding in April. It was a lovely Texas wedding held at The Wildflower Barn, Driftwood with cowboy hats and bluebonnets. Beautiful, sweet, and fun like Austin & Sarah. All the little details fit them perfectly: from purple flowers and rocks for Sarah to Star Wars cake toppers for Austin. I'm happy I got to witness and share in their joyful day. Read more to view the full set of photos.
Sarah & Austin - April 1, 2017
The Wildflower Barn
Austin, TX
Sarah & Austin's wedding was full of laughter and "happy tears" (tissues provided). I was truly blessed they chose me to photograph their day. They've known each other since childhood, and of course there were plenty of jokes about how it's been a long time coming (sorry Austin just once more)! Their wedding was every bit as magical and fun loving as the two getting married. A perfect Texas wedding with cowboy boots and bluebonnets, and purple (Sarah's favorite, of course!).
The day started with an overcast sky and light drizzling, but that couldn't bring Austin & Sarah down. During the first look, Sarah & Austin twirled together in the Texas Bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrushes. Capturing them was worth every ant bite. Later the sun decided to come out just in time for Sarah to walk down the aisle. It was a beautiful ceremony and their joy was infectious, with friends and family coming together to dance all night in the rustic wooden barn.
Memory through Clothing
7/20/16 – Clothes & Memory
I still live in my childhood home and I’m not moving anytime soon. The comfort of staying in the same place has allowed for a collection of too much clutter. The overabundance of items has me feeling (unable to function) so I mop and vacuum up the dust that has collected around each pile of stuff and then start in on sorting.
I begin with the dresser next to my bed. It’s white with pink accents and covered with a thousand different kinds of stickers: dinosaur valentines, scratch-and-sniff that have lost their scent, fuzzy felines, Pokémon (of course!), even holographic tags from clothing brands. My dad made this dresser, and the stickers house a million different memories. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get rid of it.
I begin with my t-shirt drawer, overcrowded and spilling out so I can no longer fully close it. I put 9 shirts in the giveaway pile and another 7 in the probably pile. When I try them on that probably changes over to a more uncertain maybe. Perhaps one day I’ll go back to a college football game and want to fit in with my burnt orange. This is despite the fact that I maybe went to 3 games the entire time I was in college, and I didn’t enjoy a single one. Why is it so hard to let go of things?
In my closet is another dresser, newer, and made by my uncle. Its unfinished faces still the natural color of the wood. I go straight for the bottom drawer, which I recently rediscovered houses old band tees and sweatshirts from my ex. I take them all out in a show that I’ll finally give them away. It’s just an act, I already know I’m not going to get rid of them, still attached to a memory I can’t bear to part with.
I don’t wear them anymore. I’m not sure I ever really did, all much bigger than my petite frame. Instead they’ve sat there for years – folded nicely so the creases seem to be permanently etched into the shirts. One by one I carefully unfold each piece of clothing and slip it over my body.
An old tour shirt has dust and a few stray strands of animal hair on it. I’m unsure whether they’re from my cat or his dog, both having long since passed. I press the shirt to my face and breathe in, imagining it still smells like him. When in all likelihood any scent that remains is just the musty smell from the inside of the drawer. I decide not to wash it just in case.
Once I’ve tried on each one I carefully refold them and put them away. Maybe in another year.
Perhaps they’ll become a relic, saved away like old trophies in a cardboard box.
Ishimoto Blog:
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