First Self Portrait Shoot in a While

I'm a photographer in Los Angeles, and I love doing self-portraits as a way to self-care, express myself, document myself, and practice my skills when I'm not working. The shoot was inspired by femininity, especially my expression of it as of late - and devoted to commemorate through the immortality of a photograph the splendor of my countenance, as a queen's whereabouts should always be diligently documented.

Originally, I had asked my photographer friend Kass if she could help on this shoot, but she got sick and could no longer do it on that day. I decided that I would do the shoot anyway, in whatever state I could. “Just get out the door, Letxia,” I told myself. Anything was better than nothing.

Even before that day, I did not know what I wanted from the shoot, I just knew I wanted it to express a side of me, and for it to be in nature. This was the first time I didn’t have a distinct, clear direction. For a shoot that I travel to and carry this much with me, I usually plan with more detail ahead of time. I usually meditate on it with music; I usually find one song that inspires the direction of the entire shoot, and that’s the song I use to keep the mood going for the entire shoot. Not this time.

So I sifted through my clothes, saw a dress that really caught my eye, the dried babies breath Sharad had gotten me, and I had a necklace and even bracelet that could go with everything. The makeup was inspired by a look I’d done previously, but with more saturation this time. For this shoot, I wanted to feel dramatic- fiery and fresh, like a coral flower in bloom.

So I did my makeup, packed the dress, accessories, oranges and nuts, Nikon D3300, piled my hair on top of my head tightly (in the hopes that I’d get loose waves for the shoot), grabbed the 2 bags with equipment, and headed out the door. My neighbor and her son said I looked nice and made appreciative comments. I smiled graciously but felt self conscious, as I was wearing more makeup than I usually wear and was feeling uncomfortable in the spotlight. I am so weird that way.

I set out pretty late and got to the start of the hike in Agoura Hills around 3pm. I wanted a place with lots of trees, hills, and fresh, green grass, and I remember doing a shoot here with Ben years ago; there seemed to be lots of opportunity for that raw, untethered nature I was looking for. With the sun setting around 6:30pm, I had to be quick if I wanted to get any shots. I grabbed both bags, the reflector, and my water bottle from the car and set out on the path that looked less taken.

I don’t remember the last time I did a self portrait shoot like this for myself. I think I’ve tended to be accompanied by Ben, so this was my first time doing one this involved in a while. I’m so proud of myself! But I hadn’t remembered just how costly it’d been getting shots like these - the effort planning, and the tumultuousness that can belong to nature.

I usually set off the beaten path, because I need the privacy to create, and the wild to inspire me. So I did that.

I felt like a little mouse, trekking through the wild brush, although the illusion was ruined by small paths. I still felt very vulnerable - by the elements, people, possibly even animals. And I was growing weary and uncomfortable because I still hadn’t found a spot I liked. I don’t remember what the process was like for these shoots, funnily enough. How long did I usually hike? And why did the terrain look so vastly different? I guess I hadn’t been there in 4 years.

I finally found a semi satisfactory spot, but before I could fully let out a sigh of relief, I heard a loud wimper, clear as day right over the hills to my right.

I froze.

I waited, hoping it would be momentary and no more. The earth was still and the air heavy with heat and dust.

It happened again -

this time louder, as if it was fighting, and then it stopped - as if mercifully, the struggle was over.

In the wake of silence, I waited, breath caught in my throat, still gazing intently at the horizon where the sound was coming from. Over the horizon, three big, black birds appeared in the sky and began to circle.

Then the coyote appeared slowly.

Heart fluttering, I hastily but calmly started packing up, keeping my eye on it as it made its way down the hill. I grabbed my things, then realized it’d be best to untie my tripod so that I could use it to fend it off if it came to that. I tactfully raised my arms up high above my head, then I started walking, keeping an eye on the coyote - which was surely, alarmingly approaching! yes, over the hills it was jauntily coming towards me oh gosh- and then called Sharad, who looked up what to do in this situation. He said that I shouldn’t turn my back, and to make lots of noise.

Navigating the area I’d come from was rather tricky, I must say. Because it was off the path, there was no clear way back. I had to step into marshy grass, and that could have injured me from how mushy it was! What if I’d twisted my ankle?! I also don’t remember thinking about my mortality as often as I do now. Some rules are there to protect us. I’m amused at how much there is in life that I’ve changed my mind about in my older age. Was it this blissful ignorance that kept me safe? Does being this aware of your own mortality somehow subconsciously wreak more havoc than keeping in that blissful state? Because then you start making hasty decisions. What a terrible cycle.

Anyway, at some point, there was enough distance between the supposed-coyote and I to feel like I could breathe a sigh of relief.

But, now what? I couldn’t go back the way I’d come! The only option was forward or backward. So I went backward, in the hopes that another off-the-road area was sheathed in privacy somehow, but also close enough to the road to not feel threatened by nature. I decided to follow the instincts that I usually allow, which led me to a tree, then to another pretty sight with a tree higher up on the hill, until I had reached a height where I could see the road to the hike from where I was. I was delighted! There was enough privacy where if a person were to walk by, I might be aware of them or not! And that is all I needed. I was still on that phone call with Sharad until then. He said he’d keep an eye out for my location, and then we hung up.

I set up my tripod, took out my reflector, and started to finally take pictures and videos.

I also proceeded to get pricked and prodded by nature’s tiniest of thorniest brush in all the land.

Not to mention that I was using a timer that took 3 shots at a time, so I was running back and forth between takes, allowing myself to fall to my knees to look at the shots for feedback, using thorny plants (the dried babies breath had become prickly to the touch) as accessories and embedding their tiny thorns into my skin -
oh, and did I mention the thorns?
Yeah, there were thorns everywhere - in the brush and underfoot and to the side and overhead. Goodness.
But I tried to not let that bother me in the moment, and instead allowed myself to focus just enough on the music playing loudly over the sounds of the wind.


“Glass” by Hania Rani played melodically, melancholically,
and twisted me into a trance, even if for a brief moment
while the camera adjusted for each shot.

It was so fulfilling to be out there! …

The sun on my face, melting my muscles,
feeling like butter and caramel and warmth and honey and apples and sugar and cream…

Like fruity pebbles and frosted flakes and rice crispies and naturecore funfetti cake!

Yum.

Like a warm sculpture of sand and gold, glistening in the water, glinting warmth, radiating, flicking amber tones into the eyes…

Like Lana Dely Rey,
like a dramatic country album cover,
like a ray of sunshine,
like a sassy rose,
like a dancing queen -
flirty and feminine and fun.

She IS the moment. The moment is her.

And how empowering, to have done it on my own!
Granted, Sharad helped boost my spirits and serenity. But I would have provided myself that source of comfort no matter what, I’m sure of it. And so many people have helped with my growth and development - so many opportunities, experiences. But credit where credit is due - I killed this for myself. Hell yeah! It’s exactly the vision I was going for!!!!! <3 I know there’s room for improvement for sure: focus, consistency with color grading, white balance, etc. But for now, I will bask in this moment because I will always be able to look back at these pictures and say,

“Yes, I existed in that moment,
that beautifully.”