I'm back from the desert for what was a funny birthday weekend with Angelina Christina making art out in the desert. We spent most of our time in East Jesus where I put up my first ever piece of street art and then headed to Salton City for my second one. It's always refreshing to get out of LA and especially a treat with the one and only Starfighter. An artist is only limited by his or her own ideas of who they are as an artist. There was a time I was adamant I wouldn't make any street art because I felt I had too much respect for it. Long before that there was a time I never thought I'd be a photographer for some of the same reasons. The idea of self creates limitations on who we are based on who we think we are and who we saw ourselves as. I intend to do my best to continue to wash away those false connotations.
Today I want to take step backward towards a set I never quite put out. I generally put out sets very linearly and often times there's either no deadline because it's my set and I can put it out when I want and it's new for you the audience, or there is a shelf life because it's an event and if I wait too long then it's old news (though that still doesn't stop me). Over the last 3/4 of the year I've been working with Amadeus Magazine doing some of their editorials. Amadeus is a quarterly magazine so in my mind I have to wait until the issue is out to put out my photos so because there's an out of site out of mind kind of reality to that I sometimes just let the sets sit in my queue. Last July I shot my second set with them not far from my home in Highland Park a stone's throw away in Mt. Washington with an amazing artist by the name of Tracy Wilkinson. Tracy does a variety of projects but is probably best known for her basket weaving. I was fortunate enough to see Tracy's beautiful home adorned with some of her works while Alex from Amadeus interviewed her. Today I present to you our Amadeus Studio Visit to Tracy Wilkinson. Enjoy!
Click the photo below to intertwine yourself in the life of Tracy Wilkinson