Photo by: Lisa L Peters ©
Yesterday morning I was listening to a fascinating radio piece about a painting about to go to auction. A lost work of Leonardo da Vinci. A masterful portrait painted with all of the earmarks of the quintessential renascence man. It is said to be a perfect representation of his skillful style. Perhaps too perfect... In fact, it cannot be fully authenticated. And it's not in great condition.
In spite of this, the painting sold for over $450 million USD.
So why would anyone be willing to shell out that amount of money for an ambiguous, old, deteriorated piece of art?
The answer is simple: It came with a priceless story.
Humans cannot resist a good story. We need the wonder, the provocative and intriguing possibilities to feed our imaginations and spark our senses. A good story transports us, transforms us, transcends the boundaries around us. It can elevate our place and our purpose. It can literally change who we are...if only in our minds, if only for a moment.
Advertisers know this. Marketers, writers, artists. Anyone adept at allure and seduction knows this.
We are all innate storytellers. It's in our bones, our DNA. Communication in all its forms is nothing more than storytelling. Some of us are better than others. Or perhaps some are simply more focused or try harder.
But let me ask you this: If the difference between a junky, dilapidated old painting and a priceless work of art is nothing more than a good story, what could that mean for you? What in your life could use an extreme makeover, a massive upgrade? And what if - indulge me here - all it took to make that happen was, in fact, a good story?
Five and a half years ago, I was a woman facing unemployment and the death of my mother. I was lost and stunned. I'd spent nearly a decade telling other people's stories...or at least modifying my own to nestle neatly inside narratives that cast me as nothing more than an incidental plot point. My life wasn't mine. I'd forgotten who I truly was.
I'd always wanted to be a photographer. My dad is one. I grew up in his darkroom. It's deep in my blood. But my photographic story ended there. I was a woman who wanted to be a photographer.
Then one day - 1 August 2013 to be precise - a switch flipped deep in my soul. I picked up the old Nikon d700 my dad had bought for me secondhand and declared out loud, "I am a photographer."
Instantly, my story began to change. I took photos every day. I posted them on social media. I joined photo groups and submitted work to curations and contests. I walked around carrying cameras. And guess what happened: Everyone believed me! I was suddenly a photographer. A celebrated one at that.
My story still evolves daily. And the better it gets, the more detailed, the richer, and the more impassioned, the better my life becomes. No one gave a crap about the woman who wanted to be a photographer. But the woman who'd spent countless hours as a little girl assisting her daddy in his darkroom and can still evoke the sour smells and the red light...who strayed from her path...only to find her way back to a camera after meeting tragedy and setback...who spent every day for four years teaching herself the art of photography and has had work shown in Porto, Milan, Florence, Paris, Los Angeles, and other cities around the globe...THAT woman has a good story!
Change your story, change your life.