Last week I sat on my deck, leaning, knees tucked to my chest, chin tilted skyward, as the sun crawled sideways across that great expanse, hide and seeking through the trees.
The sun in these mountains and in this season does an unfair form of strip tease, only hinting at warmth and glow and full disclosure.
I was sitting next to paper encased in glass straining for the same view I was. We are no different, I thought. These are my dreams, my emotions, my longings, leaning into the sunlight, begging to be magically formed into something seen + felt + loved.
You may know, you may not know.
These are cyanotypes…one of the earliest (some say the very first) photographic process, discovered and further developed by an English astronomer-chemist-mathematician-scientist type (note, not the artist type) in the mid 1800’s. Before photographic negatives and before other forms of chemical photographic development. Fun fact…the original architectural ‘blueprints’ were cyanotypes. You can find all the info you want and lots more history and fascinating tidbits if you internet search it.
Not the point here.
Quick process description, though…process is multi-step, but also simple…mix some chemicals, paint the paper, let it dry in the dark, place an object on the paper, expose it to UV, rinse with water and…et voila. A cyanotype. These are contact prints, producing the exact size and shape of whatever is placed on the paper. The images seen here are produced with an enlarged digital negative.
I honestly don’t even know how I stumbled upon creating these. As a photographer I’ve known about this alternative process since before my entrance into photography, but only started creating them a couple years ago. The tangible nature of these resonates with me so much.
Also, not the point.
The image above shows the use of natural sunlight in the short days of winter. It shows the difference in paper structure and exposure time and chemical reaction. An all together organic process that cannot be recreated exactly like it was before. That’s art. That’s us.
All of it. All of us. An experiment of contact and connection and exposure and (fingers crossed) a magical becoming.