Kaci Damola

Creating

in the midst of a pandemic created some challenges for many artists. For those who often collaborated in person, video calls became the new norm to envision new ideas. Virtual photoshoots were seen across social media and magazine covers. Documentation took on a new shape as we saw more people place themselves in their work to maintain a sense of self during a time full of grief and uncertainty. As a photographer, I also took that time to lean into my grounding practice of self portraiture and other forms of visual documentation. Everyone’s process of documenting self will look different so I joined Kaci Kennedy in conversation to learn more about her journey to self portraiture.

DAMOLA AKINTUNDE (DA)

So I guess now that we're getting started, maybe we can start with introductions. I guess, maybe one sentence about your involvement with the beautiful project, and then we can get into the conversation.

KACI KENNEDY (KK)

I'm Kaci Kennedy. But I guess my involvement with The Beautiful Project is I was an intern when I was an undergrad, for a year back in. I think it was my sophomore year. But ever since then, I've been part of The Beautiful Community, and in supporting them in that way.

DA What do you identify as in terms of being creative? Do you have any specific titles that you consider yourself?

KK I am struggling with that. I want to call myself a photographer, because I feel like I should. But I don't quite feel like I'm there yet. And I'm trying to figure out why that is.

DA I think just the act of intention behind photography makes you a photographer. I don't know if that helps. But I think you could totally call yourself a photographer whenever you're ready to do so. Let’s open up the conversation by stating how we use self documentation and our artistry, and I guess the significance of doing that.

KK I like to write it out first. I guess there are different aspects to how I approach it. But I think my favorite way is to write. I don't like to share my writing. But I enjoy writing in my way of sharing that. And my expression through my writing is through photography, because I'm much more willing to share that than what I've actually written.

DA And it's interesting to hear that you write before you take photographs. So is it more of a process where you create a concept on paper, and then you use your photographs to describe that feeling that you're kind of encountering?

KK It's kind of interesting, it's not even a concept. It's more of, I collect my thoughts and emotions through paper first to make it make more sense and be more clear and concise. So I am able to kind of portray that and kind of pinpoint what exactly I want to portray through the photos in a way. But then, from there, in the moment of actually creating photos, I kind of just go back to what I'm writing. Not physically look at it, but kind of remember that sort of feeling and ideas that I had recorded. And just put on some music.

DA I think for me, I define [self documentation] as any form of archival work that you do to document who you are at that time. And I would consider your writing as well, self documentation. I know for me, I've gotten into the habit of doing video diaries, where I would talk to myself on camera, to kind of figure out ways to remind myself where I was when I'm older as well. So it's cool that you have a two step process, the writing and then having the photos kind of work together to share that story of how you were feeling at that time. And for me, it's almost the opposite where I take the photo, and in real time figure out how I'm feeling and what I want to portray while I'm photographing myself. And then after the fact, it's easier for me to talk about what I was feeling at that moment. Because I did that process. So it's almost like opposites, which is cool.

KK That is, I think I've definitely done that before. But I really enjoyed the backwards way.It's just different. It's interesting to hear your approach on that, too.

DA Hopefully, by sharing this conversation, it can help others do their own self documentation as well during this time. Because I think, for a lot of people, this was a very, like, pivotal moment in their lives, for whatever reason, dealing with grief, dealing with just so many changes. It might be helpful to help others figure out ways to document all those feelings. Because I think, looking back at it, in a physical way, has a lot of value and can be used for generations to come, honestly.

Did you used to do this kind of process prior to the pandemic? Or did it come out of the pandemic?

KK So I've always liked doing the writing portion. I've never really done self portraits, but I definitely never combined the writing and photography and that order.

DA So do you think it came out because of the pandemic? Or was it just something natural for you to kind of shift into

KK Kind of both. So with the pandemic, that's part of the reason why I started self portraits, but then also, I found myself writing more. So it was as natural as it could have been with a pandemic.

DA Yeah, I think for me, it was more out of a need to continue working on my photography. And also just needing to be distracted as well. Especially in the beginning, I think it was really hard to not be able to connect with people. So I was like, well, I guess I can put myself in my work a lot more. I did do that before the pandemic, but it was almost more intentional. Once the pandemic started, I was like, well, if you're gonna be by yourself all the time, you might as well learn how in your work.

KK I feel the same way because I wanted to start with portraits, but not necessarily myself first. I thought of like, I might as well kind of practice on me since I'm here.

DA Do you have any suggestions for folks who are thinking about self documentation or doing self portraiture?

KK I don't know about suggestions. But for me, I hesitated a little bit because I didn't feel like I had a proper set up for a background or studio or anything like that, or camera, or lighting, just anything I needed. But I think there was one point where I was like, I really just need to go out and take pictures of something. I need to distract myself, I guess. So I had a bedsheet, and a camera on my tripod and one light. I guess that's all it kind of took to get started in the process. And honestly, even if you don't come out with the exact image that you had in your mind, that process in itself is honestly worth it.

DA No, I agree. I think that's a misconception where people think you need a full studio setup to do that. And I know for me in the beginning, I did use a camera, but also my phone was really helpful. I didn't realize how powerful phones are until recently and that you can really take beautiful portraits without even having a proper setup. So I think once folks kind of play with what they have, they'll be surprised that you can really transform your room in your house or wherever you want to document yourself with a setup very easily.

Specifically has doing [self portraits] shaped you as an artist? Has it creatively shifted your way of thinking about your art or your work?

KK: I don't know exactly. I think for one, it has helped me to be more intentional about like the person on the other side of the camera, and maybe how they might feel more if that makes any sense. Because at first, I actually had this image in my head of what I wanted to capture. And initially, I wanted to paint it before I started taking self portraits, but I don't know how to. And I want to find someone who fits this image. But I didn't want that picture in my head to kind of go away. Exactly. So I just went ahead and sat in front of the camera. I wasn't comfortable in front of the camera. But from that I kind of learned how to create an atmosphere that would make someone comfortable in front of the camera, even if it is just myself. I feel like that has helped me a little bit with portraits. And this gave me a little bit more confidence to actually go out and take portraits and play with lighting in general and have a bit more confidence to try more creative shoots.

DA: Yeah, that's the beauty of it. I enjoy it for that reason, too, especially with trying new setups and lighting. I'm like you and figure out how it looks on me before I go outside and work with other people. So I definitely agree that there's less at stake when you're the only person having to be in the shoot and deal with it. Are there any other closing remarks, any thoughts that you want to share that might be insightful in this process of self documentation.

KK: I don't want to sound like Nike. But honestly, if you start just with little things, if you're considering, like any form of self documentation of writing or photography, videography, anything like it doesn't have to be perfect. But it's important to start somewhere I think. It can be really helpful and therapeutic to kind of just release that from yourself.

How to Get Started on Your Self Documentation Journey

1. What do you want to capture about yourself at this moment? Things like emotional state, impactful life events, personal style, etc, are all part of self that can be documented through your medium of choice

2. What medium do you want to use?

Mediums like photography and writing are more commonly used but voice notes and video diaries are other examples.

On Motherhood

Howoften have you looked at old photograph of your mother BC (before children), or any matriarch in your lineage, and noticed the minutia? A deep belly laugh captured by Polaroid. A flirty stance, hands on hips, eyes staring at the photographer knowingly. What did you notice? Was it the freedom displayed, or the wonder? Did you still see those things in her as your mother? What changed? This poem from Jasmine Mans is one that I’ve read before and it didn’t fully resonate until I became a mother. The lens in which you’re viewed by the world changes drastically. Society places expectations on women that often lead to most losing parts of themselves in exchange for motherhood. Hobbies are pushed to the side for playdates. Passions and desires become extracurricular activities. The wonder that once dwelled in your soul becomes a memory as you step into this new role. I decided before Nuri was even a thought that I would model motherhood differently and keep my “girl” when I had children, especially if I had a daughter. I want her to grow up and see that I very much maintained my identity. She will see me as a dancer, writer, trap music aficionado, with an affinity for warm weather, a good book, and travel. She’ll likely know that occasionally colorful language will escape my lips, see me laugh with my whole body, and know how terrible I am at recounting and retelling events. She will likely tell anyone who will listen that her mom delivers babies, has tattoos and a head full of locs. I saw motherhood through a lens of a very polarized spectrum.

Either you were a great mother or a woman of the world. It wasn’t common to see images of women who maintained a great sense of individuality that didn’t revolve around their children. These women were devoted to pouring all of themselves into their children, which is admirable, but left little for themselves. Millennial motherhood is different in that we are taking a stance to keep all the parts of ourselves. No longer will we have to choose. We are mothers, but we’re selfactualized humans first. We raise and rear, but also keep our personhood intact. We aim to be free, unapologetically. Nuri, for you I will maintain my “girl.”

My Birth Story

Before my daughter was born, I asked a few things of her. I asked that she arrive during Virgo season. I asked that she come after my retwist appointment so she would meet me looking my best with freshly twisted roots. I asked that she make her arrival during the weekend so that my doula Jen, a medical student, wife and mom, would have the availability to support me in labor and birth. Finally, and probably most importantly, I asked that she come after my term in Grad School ended on September 18th. I’m currently enrolled in a master’s program pursuing Midwifery. Her Due date was September 20th. She obliged and granted me three of my requests, and on September 12th, 2020 my world changed for the better.

My Friday was very typical. I had a chiropractor appointment and even had time to stop at my favorite Black owned organic spot for a smoothie and a couple veggie patties. I headed to my loctitian and pleaded for him to wash my hair with his tingly concoction. He flat out refused until l I was full term, so at 38 weeks and 5 days, my day arrived. Netflix was releasing Girlfriends that day, so I was preparing to spend my entire weekend lounging, laughing and crying with Joan, Maya, Lynn and Toni. I was in need of a pedicure but decided to grab a sandwich and start my marathon. Two episodes in at 5:45pm, I felt a warm sensation. I hobbled to the bathroom to confirm my suspicion, and as luck would have it, my mother called. I guess there’s no age limit on mother’s intuition. “Hey ma. Don’t freak out, but I think my water just broke.” Of course, she freaks out as I confirm that the gush I felt was my amniotic fluid. Somehow I’m able to briefly get her off the phone to call my midwife and mentor, Traci. She tells me to monitor my temperature, start timing my contractions, and take a castor oil midwife’s brew if my contractions go away. I had very mild, but regular, cramping so I was encouraged to rest and make an acupuncture appointment for the next day to get things going. Traci was going to be on call the next morning so we both assumed that we would see one another then. Nuri’s godparents came over and we decided to do my belly cast since I would not be pregnant for much longer. Jen arrived and I bounced on the birthing ball and continued to chat with everyone. Nuri’s dad grabbed pizza (Pizza Hut at my request), but once he came back with it I was no longer hungry. Everyone ate and talked, so I took the opportunity to take a warm shower and attempt to rest.

It was around 11pm. Jen strung lights and turned on the diffuser to create a peaceful atmosphere in the bedroom. Rest alluded me, and I was becoming more and more uncomfortable. A warm bath was the remedy and I submerged myself in the water to ease my labor. Waves hit me about every two minutes, and I began to moan and vocalize. It wasn’t unbearable, just uncomfortable. The urge to push and immense pressure quickly came, but I knew I wasn’t that far along. We decided to call the midwife on call and head to the birth center. Jen, myself and Nuri’s dad arrived at the birth center rather quickly and I paced the parking lot until the midwife arrived. Since I was both a patient and an employee as a birth assistant at the birth center, I was familiar with all the midwives there. I knew that I wanted to be cared for by midwives of color and birth outside the hospital as long as it was safe for the both of us. At 1:45 am I was checked for dilation. No one knew, but I made up in my mind to ask for a hospital transfer if I wasn’t at least 4 cm, which is the hardest point of dilation to get to, especially for first time mothers. I was 7 cm. I wept tears of joy and gratitude for my body and its ability to work in bringing my baby Earth side. As a labor and delivery nurse, I’ve seen the good, bad and everything in between. I knew that birth was wildly unpredictable and at any moment things could change, but I trusted my body. I moaned, prayed and allowed my body and mind to connect and focus on each contraction. I asked to labor in the tub again and turned the jacuzzi jets on full blast. My mother and aunt were in NC and were watching everything via Facetime. It was comforting to feel that they were near, especially since Covid restrictions wouldn’t have allowed them to be present even if they had made it to D.C. in time. There were some hospitals that only allowed one support person to be with the birthing person, but I was fortunate enough to have Nuri’s dad, my doula and two midwives that I was very comfortable with. I moaned, meditated and prayed and again the urge to push arrived. I was checked once again, and it was time. I was 10cm and the baby was low. I tried a couple rounds of pushing but could not get comfortable in the tub. Nuri’s dad lifted me out and I immediately squatted, and as I was supported by him and Jen, Nuri Lennox emerged at 2:30 am. She was lifted into my arms and bellowed out the most beautiful cry I’ve heard. I held her close and was guided to the bed to wait for my placenta. By this time, Tracie arrived. She was so shocked that my labor and birth was under 9 hours! After a few minutes, I birthed my placenta, her cord was cut, and she snuggled into my chest. I did have a small laceration, which was repaired, I was given a cold pack and a pad and was assisted with my first latch. I ate, showered and napped. Nuri was weighed and examined right beside us. By 7 am, we were packed up and ready to leave. We grabbed Chick-fil-A and headed home to rest and recover. The first 24 hours were spent in bed and the next day we were both visited by Tracie for our assessment to check my bleeding and our vitals. Jen came and assisted me in wrapping my belly in the traditional Bengkung way and set up a healing herbal sitz bath. She poured hot tea, dimmed the lights and incorporated aromatherapy for me to relax and focus on my healing. She also brought Ayurvedic meals and teas that were meant to warm my body and encourage healing. If I wasn’t present for it, I wouldn’t believe how ideal my birth was. It was beyond all I hoped for, and my baby girl was healthy and beautiful. I share this story as an example of the births that can be achieved. Our ancestral knowledge is pulling at us to learn the ways in which women have birthed for centuries. It’s not the ideal for everyone but it was perfect for me. Birth cracked me open, exposed my strength, and what emerged was the best version of myself.

Dedicated Spaces: A Silent Retreat for A Weary Pilgrim

Itwas August 2005. I had just facilitated a successful professional development workshop for a school district in northern Arizona. I had three YA novels on school library shelves targeting reluctant reading teen and preteen girls within the urban context. My mission was to get them to no longer call themselves “non-readers”. I aspired to be the author for whom, for the rest of their lives, they would say, “The first book I ever read cover to cover was written by Alexus Rhone.” Two of my books were on regional bestseller’s list, and one of them had hit the Essence Magazine national bestseller’s list.

I was celebrated…everywhere but at home.

By then, I had been married for seven years. Although we were busy building a life together in Phoenix, Arizona, there was always something odd in the relationship. After returning home from that professional development workshop in northern Arizona, a series of events transpired within close proximity and rapid succession that led me to pray perhaps the most dangerous prayer of my adult life: “Lord, I’m ready to know.”

Within a day or two, my prayer was answered, and I was scared.

I called my husband into our home office. I placed two chairs in front of each other. I said to him that I had found something in our home that lets me know that I don’t know who he is. I told him that right now it was just the two of us, and that today was the day he needed to answer this question: “Who are you?” read, “Protected by angels.“ At that point, I knew that I was in a safe space.

With one hand he twirled his mustache, while the other hand rested on his stomach. I focused on that hand - it was shaking.

At that moment, I realized this wasn’t a nightmare; it was my reality.

We sat facing each other for 20 minutes. Suddenly, he pops out of the chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, and walks out of the office.

I went from being afraid to angry, and, by December 2005, every fiber of my being was permeated by darkness. Something needed to change, and quickly. I could not continue in this space.

Now here’s the thing about me - no matter what is going on in my life, I always make room for my three eternal loves: Jesus, jazz, and dessert wine.

In this present darkness, my first inclination (in my preacher voice) was to calllll on Jesus! But I was not interested in the Jesus of a longer church service, nor did I crave Jesus of the five-day instead of the three-day revival. I needed a whole new Jesus experience.

I called a sister-friend in LA to help me discern my next, best moves. She asked if me and Jesus wanted to come to LA and skate on Venice beach while listening to old school hip-hop and R&B. That had always been a regular and effective goto.

I told her no, that’s not it.

She asked if me and Jesus needed to check into one of the north Scottsdale high-end day spas where I could get one of my pampered aromatherapy body scrub treatments.

I told her, again, no, I don’t think that’s it. Then I remembered another sister friend had recently completed an eight-day silent retreat in the mountains of Utah. For eight days, she was not permitted to read, write, or speak. At the conclusion of that retreat, she came down off the mountain a regular little chatterbox. But, more than that, she was sold on the power of silence as a solution.

I needed to get somewhere immediately. While I could not be gone for eight days, nor could I go as far as the mountains of Utah, she had given me an option - silent retreat center.

So we began to Google retreat centers in Arizona. We were looking for some thing that would be within driving distance to my home in Phoenix.

The Desert House of Prayer sat on 40-acres of desert landscape nestled under the shadows of the National Saguaro Park. It was run by two nuns and a priest who believed that your answers are always with you; you just have to be quiet to hear them.

I checked into my room. Twin bed, La-Z-Boy recliner, writer’s desk perched against the window facing west, and a private bathroom. I thumbed through the literature on the desk. By 3 pm, I climbed into bed and cried myself to sleep.