1st place
gold star award
Alexis Harper
united states 
Photo © Alexis Harper
title
her: I
"her: I" was taken in Trolltunga, Norway after a 20mi hike nearly cut short by the mountain guard. "It's four hours past the cut-off time for you to pass this point. You need to turn around," she said. But having flown to Norway specifically for this shot alone, we persisted, pleaded... it worked. We returned at 2am to the trailhead...
I am of the belief that art is a lovely conundrum of contradictory and complementary currents, a confluence, a convergence, a carriage, and a coffin with awkward coffee dates in-between. In this strange space between the carriage and the coffin, (only a moment apart), I am merely a caffeinated conduit. I am only ever aspiring to capture the essence of a moment, a person, a piece of music, a slice of life, and failing every time. But I try and try and try, willingly at the whim of art’s teeth. I am of the belief that by doing so, by dedicating myself wholly to this thing, by sharing in my fears and hopes, creative ideas and serendipitous stories, I am ever the more human for it. And hopefully along the way, someone else is too.
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entry description
Part of the "her" series exploring the interaction between humans and their environment - these places that inspire awe and wonder, indifferent to our presence."her: I" was taken in Trolltunga, Norway after a 20mi hike nearly cut short by the mountain guard. "It's four hours past the cut-off time for you to pass this point. You need to turn around," she said. But having flown to Norway specifically for this shot alone, we persisted, pleaded... it worked. We returned at 2am to the trailhead...
about the photographer
I am Alexis Harper… and Alex, and Harper, and I call Boulder, Colorado my home. I call my van Pachamama and my dying plants, victims (sadly). I call my photography fun, and my work fulfilling. I am an artist… and an oceanographer, a musician, a graduate student, a climber, a skier, a resilient woman, weathering towards wisdom… and a curious child for the unexplained. I am at odds with the decades within myself, but at home with the best from both worlds: restless with creaky joints (or rather, baby-cheeked enough for a youth ski-pass and old enough for a beer at lunch). I am a hopeless romantic… for the mountains, the deserts, the cafes hidden under eaves of city alleyways, and for this thing that compels me to capture the simple joys of a chaotic, beautiful life. I am a hopeless romantic for art. I am in love with all that it is and everything it’s not.I am of the belief that art is a lovely conundrum of contradictory and complementary currents, a confluence, a convergence, a carriage, and a coffin with awkward coffee dates in-between. In this strange space between the carriage and the coffin, (only a moment apart), I am merely a caffeinated conduit. I am only ever aspiring to capture the essence of a moment, a person, a piece of music, a slice of life, and failing every time. But I try and try and try, willingly at the whim of art’s teeth. I am of the belief that by doing so, by dedicating myself wholly to this thing, by sharing in my fears and hopes, creative ideas and serendipitous stories, I am ever the more human for it. And hopefully along the way, someone else is too.
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