Needless to say, this was an exploration on all levels. From camera to photographer to muse to post processing. And it was beautiful. And it resonates with me in ways that maybe only she and I can cherish. And I’m ok with that. The draw to the mystery and meaning of that is an important part of the process.
It is the thing that succeeds when words fail. Where all that remains is a feeling.
We moved.
Some of you know. More of you don’t.
It’s taken me 3 months to even be able to write those words on a page. To have them glare at me, look at me so boldly, mock my pain, sting my eyes.
I realize, for many, moving feels normal. It’s hard and a lot of work, but maybe you’ve become accustomed to it, done it more times than you would have liked, but see it as a part of life.
And it is a part of life. I get that. This move, however, has seemingly ripped me apart. Ripped us apart. With over 16 years of life in San Diego, it has been tough to embrace it. To step into a new space. There has been lots of grieving. Lots of emotional eruptions on all ends and from all humans in this family. Seems we are simply just trying to hold hearts together, much less move our boxes from city to city and show up to school on time. There are shiny moments and moments of gratitude and lots of dock sitting with sips of whiskey (that contribute to those moments of gratitude), but needless to say it has been full of tremors.
And all of that (although there is much, much more) played into this photoshoot with Norah. We’ve been having convos regarding moving and feeling lonely and leaving things we love. We’ve asked ourselves what does it feel like to ‘lose’ those things? How do we carry them with us? What do we leave behind? What remains in those places and relationships we left? How do we keep remembering? What does it feel like to want to be in a place that no longer exists as ‘ours’? What does abandonment feel like/look like? (Yes, there is the flip side of how do we step forward, embrace the new, engage the community and friends around us that love us…and we are doing that too. Writing about it is for another time.)
We’ve verbally and emotionally touched on a lot of things. She also knows that I often create images out of those spaces or try to explore life through photos in a way that helps express my experiences. So, we curated a short series, 10 images where we felt safe enough to explore the ideas. We crafted this together. The ideas for composition, tone, light, etc were ping-ponged back and forth. And, I freaking loved that process with her. So much to learn.
So here we have it. A little glimpse into an experiment and an exploration of our changes and our hearts and feelings.
TECH SPECS
Shot on Cinestill bwXX rated at 400. Originally motion picture film, so it gives it a little glow. Mamiya RZ67, which is huge and amazing and I am still learning what it can do. We, honestly, wanted the scene to be darker and more ominous than it actually was. Time of day and time we had to shoot were factors. So, I shot this normally and underexposed a bit in post. Underexposing black and white film in camera isn’t always the best idea, leaves the negative dense and muddy, but I coulda tried that too. It’s a different technique for me. I’m typically a realist and want my images to look exactly how they looked in the scene. But, the original vision was kinda dramatic and sad, so we darkened them a little bit.
I also frequently shoot with less visual activity, meaning create simpler shots. This abandoned house and all the trees around it gave me a run for my money in terms of what my eyes do with so much visual noise. In addition to that, I rarely (if ever) shoot above f8 (bad practice, maybe). The ones from the outside of the house were shot at f16, which also gave me a run for my money.
Needless to say, this was an exploration on all levels. From camera to photographer to muse, to post processing. And it was beautiful. And it resonates with me in ways that maybe only she and I can cherish. And I’m ok with that. The draw to the mystery and meaning of that is an important part of the process.
It is the thing that succeeds when words fail. Where all that remains is a feeling.
