Angela Fama is all about sharing with sincerity. The Vancouver-based artist, who specializes in photography, is interested in breaking down the walls of ego between people. Drawing attention to the relationship between our “online image” and our honest image, Fama’s work explores vulnerability as a strength.  

… she even wants you to read her preteen poetry. Her current in-the-works project, Wabisabi Butterfly, is a book of unedited journals from her youth. Stay tuned for her cross-America RV tour / DIY book launch next fall, where she will promote her bold new project. I met with the gutsy and multi-talented artist at Coco Et Olive on Main to talk photography, being in the moment, and feeling it in your toes.

Sad Mag: Who are you?
Angela Fama: I am Angela Fama. Artist. Photographer. Life Enthusiast.

SM: How are you?
AF: Good! I think the universal answer for how are you used to be used to be “really tired,” now its “really busy.” I’m really busy, but I’m satisfied.

SM: We have similar tattoos! What does yours mean?
AF: It means Wabisabi. Wabisabi is, for example, artwork that becomes more valuable when it becomes imperfect. Like clay pots, if one of them one cracks in the kiln, it takes a new form and becomes something entirely new. We always aim for perfection, but that’s not what life is all about. I like the imperfect circle on my arm as a reminder that. Wabisabi is also the name of the book I’m working on.

SM: Are you a writer?
AF: I never actually considered that I’m a writer. Wabisabi Butterfly is straight up, transcribed journals from age 15 to the present. Sharing is the intention of the book. I just want to puke out what’s truthful and whoever can relate, relates. It’s about sharing, not selfishness.

SM: Are you publishing it yourself?
AF: I’m not sure if I’m publishing it myself. It includes some pretty touchy subject matter, so I might go with an American publisher. I’ve had some interest [from publishers] but I want to complete the transcribing before I make any concrete decisions on the exact route—I only want for it to be the true transcribed journals, no changing or editing. My truth, straight up.

SM: Bad teenage poetry and everything?
AF: There’s a lot of really bad poetry. I had to stop at 18—I was like, I can’t read anymore of this. But I reached a point where I’m starting to say things like “maybe it’s better to speak clearly?” And it’s true—people get lost behind really complicated language. I started to be like, I don’t even understand this—how many different ways can you try to say one thing?

In Elizabeth Gilbert’s Ted Talk she references one female poet, Ruth Stone, who explains how a poem “passes through her.” Creativity doesn’t come from any one person. You’re collaborating with energy. It’s not about me gaining, it’s just about giving.

SM: Will there be a book tour?
AF: Next fall I’m going in an RV by myself across America. A few friends will join me. I have different spots to hit on the way for book talks in little places, so hopefully it’ll be a book launch. Maybe I’ll start a blog. I have 23 more journals to transcribe yet though.

SM: Will the book include your photos?
AF: I’m not sure yet, I’m pretty sure it will.

SM: Tell me about MIRRORFACE, your portrait series.
MIRRORFACE was my portrait project. After MIRRORFACE is Profileface. MIRRORFACE was more about the internal ego. When people showed up [to my photobooth] I didn’t tell them what we’d be doing. They were alone in the room when they gave their expression to the camera. There are two pictures—one picture that looks like passport, I just said here’s a mirror, I’m going to play your music, get ready to go, just like a daily thing where you’re getting dressed. Everyone gave a similar look. It’s very different from the look people give when they know they’re being seen. And then I asked them to give the face that was pure ego—their online image. I asked them to create that image.

SM: Tell me about your project with The Acorn and Capture Photography Festival for Car Free Day.
I set up a pop-up studio in the vintage Boler on the street at Car Free Day and I photographed over 90 people that day. They all signed the release, left their shoes at the door, and they came into the bowler. It was so peaceful inside. We had a bit of a discussion, then I asked them “how are you?” and took their photo.

When people are walking down the street, their eyes are open but they may as well be closed. They don’t really see anything. Car Free Day was crazy because there was so much energy on the street. I wanted to try to break down the walls. I asked people to be with me in that space, and I just asked them “how are you?” Some of them probably had their answer prepared, but I wanted them to look inside themselves and give me the real answer. I got as many responses as there were people. Some people couldn’t break down that ego, but every person made it one step further than they set out to, that day. I could tell everyone was really present and wanting to shift. It was actually taxing for me because if I wasn’t present, it would have fallen apart. It was the first project in my life where I felt like I used every one of my skills.

[The project is] a direct conversation with Foncie Pulice, who did street photography in Vancouver in the 60s and 70s. He would photograph people walking down the street—70s cameras were crazy—he would draw everyone’s attention. Pulice photographed people doing pure ego face.

SM: You were in a car accident a few years ago. How did your car accident affect your outlook on life?
It was terrifying and enlightening. Now, I feel like I’ve been given this gift—I found something inside of me that was a lot happier than what I thought. I found this white light in me. After daily life started weighing on me again, I decided to find that place again; it is about being true to yourself at the heart.

The only way to be true to yourself is to put yourself first—it sounds so selfish, but there’s no need to try and force anything—life doesn’t need to be hard. Do what you want to do, because you’re going to die, really soon—this is it for this round! Death helped me learn that ego was keeping me from myself. The more ego I had, the less life I had. Humbleness and confidence is much more helpful without something you get—vulnerability is the greatest strength you can have.

SM: What kind of commercial work did you do before you started focusing on your art?
AF: Mostly for magazines. I work for magazines still, I like taking portraits, doing fashion when it’s fun. I worked for commercial ad agencies, where my job would have been clicking the shutter, and I just learned that’s not from me. I come from a punk rock background. I don’t shoot 14 year old girls, I get uncomfortable with that. I don’t shoot things that I want the world to have any more of—being part of my own demon isn’t something I wanted to do. I work for local designers. I don’t care about the lack of money. Art is my first and foremost. Drawing is my hidden talent. It makes me happy.

I grew up on welfare, I didn’t know you could make a living with art. Then I was like photography, cool, it’s easy! I can do that, I can talk to people!  I thought I had to be a commercial photographer to succeed and I did pretty well. Then I had the car accident, and it sort of didn’t feel quite right anymore. It took a few years to fully understand that just because I can doesn’t mean I should.

SM: Any advice for aspiring photographers?
AF: If you can, spend a lot of time asking yourself why you’re doing it, and make sure the answer is for yourself. If there’s no one else doing what you’re doing, that means you’re probably doing the right thing. If it’s scary, go do it. The more scary it is, the more fucking right it is. Trust your instinct.

SM: What are your favourite strategies for getting present?
AF: I meditate. I focus on breathing. It’s more like paying attention to senses. For example, the way my feet feel right now, that voice beside us, feeling the air of that fan on my back right now. A friend of mine told me that if you think about two of your senses at the same time, you knock yourself back into the present when you’re too in your head.

SM: You’ve referenced feet a couple times. What’s with you and feet?
AF: So many people live in their heads—but you’ve got this crazy body! But how often do you touch your toes? Living in your head and getting caught in your thoughts has nothing to do with what you’re actually doing. Really, sweeping the floor is as awesome as having an awesome dinner or having sex. We label feelings shitty or good. Erase the “good” and the “bad.” It’s only our thoughts that make them that way.

I’m starting to sound cheesy, but this is what I think. When you clear out all our ideas, you feel really awesome. George Harrison says it’s like getting high. I think white light is inside all of us.

Check out Angela’s project, How are you? at the Capture Photography Festival, The Museum of Vancouver, (1100 Chestnut St.) opening Tuesday, Oct. 1.

Or, Cipher Messaging at Initial Gallery  (2339 Granville St.), opening Thursday Oct. 17.