Given that I am still relatively new to photography (this year marks my 2 year anniversary!), I'm always trying to challenge myself whether that be through direct prompts and challenges (The Photograph Collective) or various techniques that I want to try out (oof, gifs were a tough one...). One thing I've realized recently is how almost all of my portraits are of women! On one hand, most of my close girl friends are comfortable enough to ask for portraits, while on the other hand it seems that society has deemed photoshoots to be more "acceptable" for women than for men. In the past two years alone, I've had dozens of girl friends ask for a photoshoot, while I've only had two or three guy friends ask for "a new LinkedIn photo." Of course, I've absolutely loved shooting the sessions with the women in my life and have been so happy to share the gift of beautiful photographs which each one. Each woman I've shot has a different personality, a unique style, and something different to portray which still adds a significant amount of variety to my work. Lauren of The Pear Shape and Samantha Davis of @stylemediator are both fashion bloggers, but with completely different looks and attitudes. Even in photographing two girls who I'm exceptionally close with: my best friend Janet for her Penn senior portraits and my "little sister" Kiersten in San Diego, the experience has been completely different, and the photos certainly reflect that. During Merry & Kelly's engagement shoot, however, I took some photos of Kelly that I really loved - in particular, the shot of him looking off to the side. There's something very different about photographing men, although I'm not quite sure I've figured out what it is yet. In terms of very broad generalizations, I think that women are often times more comfortable in front of the camera due to years of group photos, mini photoshoots with friends, etc. After 4 years in Chi Omega, I can pop a skinny arm and sorority squat in .15 seconds, flat, and one of my good friends even has a head tilt that is somehow at the exact same angle in every. single. photo. In contrast, whether it's due to societal pressures of what's "acceptable" or just a pure hatred of being forced to take photos, I've encountered plenty of guys who have absolutely no idea what to do in front of a camera. Max, who I'm featuring in this post, never had any idea what to do with his hands. When I was abroad my junior year, I literally made a folder of photos where he was throwing up a peace sign, a thumbs up, a fake gang sign, or some other ridiculous gesture - they were all hilarious and a continual joke, but he just insisted he didn't know what else to do. Beyond that, I think a lot of it also has to do with who I am as a photographer. I feel comfortable "directing" shoots with my female friends. Saying "That looks stunning! You look beautiful! Yes your hair looks so great in that light!" is much easier with women than it is with men. Nevertheless, for 2015 I've sought to give myself a little mission of "shooting more men" (how hilariously questionable does that sound?!) and to do it well. When I did my very first portrait shoot with Kareli, she gushed at how beautiful she felt when she looked at those photos. While my photos might not evoke quite the same response with guys, I do want to produce photos that they are happy with, more confident because of, and truly appreciate. So with that, I present to you these portraits of one of my favorite Brits, Max, whom I visited in London over Thanksgiving. He put up with all of my running around, trying to find good light, constantly yelling conflicting directions like "Smile! Wait don't smile! Be serious! Step forward! Wait that light is bad, move back!" and was just a good sport all around. I'm quite happy with the way the images turned out - he sure is the handsome fellow, isn't he? And if you're a photographer as well (or aren't!), I'd love to hear your thoughts on taking photos of men, or perhaps of the opposite gender. Do you find yourself more comfortable with female subjects? How do you give confidence-boosting compliments to the opposite gender without making it sound creepy? These are real questions, and I think that being a good photographer involves so much more than being able to frame a good shot technically. Making someone feel comfortable, especially if you're a portrait or wedding photographer, is crucial for their experience, yours, and ultimately the outcome of the photos. 
Giving Away Money That Isn’t Mine /
I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I pretty much popped out of the womb a self-motivated child, and hit the ground running ever since. Add in some casual immigrant we-moved-to-this-country-so-you-could-have-it-all motivation and some school teachings that you-can-be-anything-you-want-to-be, and there you have it: a deeply ingrained work ethic and attitude towards accomplishment. And so, I’ve run the race non-stop for 23 years. While by no means have I even come close to the finish line, I’ve crossed quite a few great milestones since I began: a good school, a good job, a good salary. Or really, since A + B = C, it seems like the real milestone is a good salary in the end.
When I view my money as something I earned, due to my oh-so-hard-work in both my education and my career, it becomes something I deserve. And when something is deserved, it’s really quite hard to part with. But here lies the problem, because it goes a little further than that, and it automatically turns giving into a zero-sum game. Every dollar that I give to a charity or someone in need is automatically a dollar less that I have for myself. It’s a pretty basic concept of removing something from my pot and putting it into someone else’s. And let’s be honest, no matter how much we try to be generous and how much we want to give, that’s pretty hard. Charity projects try to spin it in a good light, like “Oh, just give up coffee once a week and make a tiny sacrifice to donate that amount instead!”, but in the end, that’s still taking hard-earned money out of your pot and putting it somewhere else.
Now imagine this: we time-travel back a couple of weeks, and you’ve just won the $564 million powerball. Someone waves you over from your now insignificant tiny pot and goes “Hey look! This is all yours now!” Surely, surely, surely, in this scenario, every single one of you would share some of those winnings - maybe buy your parents a huge mansion, take your significant other on a crazy vacation, lend a couple mil to your friend’s app startup - and why? Because it’s a whole lot easier to give away money when it didn’t feel like yours to begin with.
What if that amazing situation is reflective of our current circumstances, though? That sure, I’ve worked hard, but if you take a step back, a lot of my success and well-being comes from circumstances well beyond my control. My parents cared enough to place me in high achieving programs from a young age, I was fortunate enough to go to a good school district where my teachers and classmates challenged me, I endured micro-aggressions but for the most part escaped relatively unscathed in terms of racism or bullying, I got into a great university that was pre-professionally focused, I had multiple friends guide and recommend me towards good internships, and I was fortunate to intern for a firm that had a high return-offer rate which ultimately translated into a well-paying job. Yes, I worked hard and yes, I’m ambitious. But I would be blatantly lying if I said it was just me. Because it’s so much more than hard work that got me here, it’s blessings upon blessings upon blessings. And how can I look at my own money after taking a real look at my past and still say “This is mine and I earned it.”?
A few years ago at Flood Church, I first heard the concept of "radical giving.” Contrary to the standard ten percent tithe that’s often recommended, radical giving challenges this very basic assumption of why we have what we have, and therefore why we give what we give. If I truly believe, as I often say I do, that what I have is not mine, but a gift from God, how much easier is it to give away? On the flip side, how much more selfish does it seem for me to hoard onto it? How much more wrong does it seem to claim God’s money as my own and then to say “But...I worked hard for this gift!” Instead, the worry of the zero-sum game starts to melt away. Not easily, but slowly, as I learn to recognize that God has provided for me in crazy ways up until now, and surely He’ll continue in that same way to provide for me as I continue to live. It doesn't mean that dollar bills will be falling from the sky, but that ultimately my needs will be taken care of. The concept of “sacrifice” might still come into play, but it stings so much less when it stops being about reaching to take from my insignificant little pot and it starts being about sharing together in that gigantic $560 million winning.
God has been challenging me continually over the past few years. It was easy, truth be told, when I was a student and my pot was little. But since I’ve come to associate my own wealth with my own accomplishments, it's become much harder. It will probably become even harder when one day I add in a family or (knock on wood) I get laid off or (extra knock on wood) a medical emergency comes up, but ultimately doesn't God call me to the same? I’ve always been meticulous with my finances (multi-tabbed excel spreadsheets and all), but I’ve come to realize how much I cling to my savings account as my safety blanket. I pat myself on the back because I set aside an amount for donations, but that’s not radical giving. That’s I’m-safe-in-this-controlled-environment-giving. Even as I write this, I'm convicting myself because I totally had a sense of pride when I donated a seemingly large amount today, but really I knew I had enough in my “donation bucket” to do it. So it’s not easy, and I get that. And I’m not advocating throwing your money into the wind, embracing enforced communism, or just laying on the ground waiting for blessings to come. God calls us to be good stewards of our money, to work to glorify Him, and I think with that comes the need for wisdom in which charities we donate to. But maybe, just maybe, if we have a little paradigm shift and view what is in our bank accounts not as ours, but as God's, we can unclench our fists just a little bit and more freely give money that isn’t ours.
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As some of you might have noticed, the past few weeks my life has been slightly dominated by Cycle for Survival and Tacky Prom. It’s been a whirlwind of leading a team of 16 riders, coordinating multiple fundraising efforts, and trying to reach our $5,000 goal. As I’ve gotten swept away in logistics coordination and getting closer to pulling my hair out, I’ve had the opportunity to re-evaluate why I give to begin with, and beyond that, why I feel so emboldened to ask others to give. Of the many things I've been provided with, I've been provided with a voice - so I ask on behalf of those who have none. If you would in fact like to help us raise money for rare cancer research at Memorial Sloan Kettering, you can do so at the following link. This year I ride in honor of Janette, a survivor and patient of MSK, and my god mother, Fairy Mom, who passed away from cancer but still managed to shine bright every single day:
http://mskcc.convio.net/goto/Apostlesshenanigans
Beyond that, I recommend the non-profits charity:water, Doctors Without Borders, and First Book. Charity Navigator is also a wonderful resource for finding other reputable non-profit organizations.
A British Thanksgiving (Yet Again!) /
Back in 2011, I started a travel blog hilariously titled View the Liew in the Queue about my adventures at King's College London. In a whirlwind, I visited Windsor, Brussels, Oxford, Cambridge, Paris, Bath, Barcelona, and Amsterdam. And while all of those were beyond amazing, the true treasures were the experiences I shared within the tiny dorms at Stanford Street Apartments. It was there that we all came together - British, American, Italian, and more - to celebrate a Thanksgiving feast. Stephen somehow managed to cook a turkey, I learned how to fry onions for a green bean casserole for the first time, and half of the dishes weren't even remotely close to what would be served at Thanksgiving back in America...and it was all so perfect. We made little pilgrim hats to wear, ate until we wanted to sleep, and made memories that will last a lifetime. Three years later, and my blog has grown up quite a bit. It's shifted to the more mature (and boring) amandaliew.com, but has much better photos if I do say so myself. Beyond that, my friendships from KCL have stayed stronger than I could have imagined - the Brits made an epic both-coast-visit in 2012 where we reunited with the other Americans who were scattered about, Max studied abroad in America in 2013, and Stephen and Sarah came to NYC in 2014. Finally, it was time for things to come full circle with a trip back to London & yet another memorable Thanksgiving. I'm so beyond lucky to have these people in my life - who would have imagined 3 years ago that we would have become so close? Though my trip was short, we managed to jam pack everything possible: Camden Market, South Bank, afternoon tea, and of course just good catch up time. In contrast to my typical vacations where I plan an itinerary for every second of the day, the purpose of this trip was to see my wonderful friends. For Thanksgiving itself, Stephen spent 2 full days cooking and somehow made 18 dishes...for 11 people. It was unbelievable! At one point someone said "I'm so full...but I want to keep eating!" to which I responded with "Welcome to the American way!!" It was truly perfect.
London's Bluebird Cafe /
Sometimes simplicity is all you need. I didn't have many things on my check list for my British Thanksgiving since I have already been fortunate enough to cross all the major sites off of my checklist, but the one thing I did insist on was grabbing some afternoon tea! Rather than go for a multi-tiered tea experience (while quite lovely isn't exactly an "everyday" event like Americans seem to believe), we decided to take a little trip out to the ever so quaint Chelsea to visit Bluebird Cafe. For an affordable £9, we ordered the a Tiny Tea which came with homemade scones and a delicious assortment of jams and clotted creams. It's amazing how something so simple could be so satisfactory, but the meal was just that! We all agreed the scones were some of the best we had ever had (a much higher compliment coming from the Brits as opposed to myself!) and we asked for jams upon jams to try them all out. The courtyard seating was lovely, even with the chill of November, and each table had blankets available to keep yourself cozy. The only downside of the experience, however, was the terrible service - and I don't say that lightly. We were routinely forgotten by all staff members (waiters, hosts, busboys alike), and had to ask 3 or 4 times for each item - it was all quite odd and we couldn't help but wonder if something had happened for them to all be so off their game. Nevertheless, for the price and scones, I would probably deem them to be worth a second chance!
