This workshop, four years ago, changed my art, my work, and my life, and left me one of the best humans as a best friend.
All these years she’s pushed me and encouraged me, inspired me. We’ve wept together, desperate to know everything would be ok and we’ve laughed until the same tears came, washing us with joy.
I’ve decided, and it’s official, I’m Joy’s biggest fan. Over and over her powerful images evoke emotion, and I gasp and she laughs each time. I watch her chase the sunshine and the elusive rainbow, seeking out the perfect spot, and then the big magic comes and glory. Heaven comes down to meet her.
But more than her portraits, it’s her heart behind the camera. She doesn’t look away from the ugly, the dirty, the wounded, the forgotten. She looks for the meaning of pain and heartache and darkness. She searches and studies and then gathers women together to be honest and vulnerable. And after witnessing five workshops over four years, I’ve sees each woman arrive unsure and feeling a bit overwhelmed, and leave days later with a full heart and courage to become whole. Joy doesn’t have all the answers, but she’s brave enough to ask hard questions and keep asking until she digs out truth. She loves like the world needs to be loved, open and unafraid.
I’m proud of my friend. I see her living in two worlds- being a mama to her family while creating a life built on her art. I know it’s not easy, because awesome things never are; it requires the whole heart and can sometimes break the mind and body in the making. Meaning-full art comes at a cost.
Joy’s workshop days are coming to a close, maybe for this season, maybe forever. I wish every one of my friends could sit in her home, eat at her table, know her like I do. She has a way of seeing the soul with compassion and tenderness, of nurturing the smallest dreams, of reminding you who you were meant to be.
If you think you should go, then go. Do what it takes to make it happen.