Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts

5.23.2011

Mile Markers.

The three of us went to art school together, before we all split directions: Meghan went home to Florida, before settling in Portland; Anthony tried moving to Salt Lake City to study under a master painter, coming back home low on money, then leaving again; I ran away to documentary school as fast as I could and since then haven't sat still too long, usually only keeping in touch through postcards.

We all regrouped in Portland last winter for a few days, before Tony left again for the west. While looking at this image, I realized that the two of them have become a sort of mile marker for me. Despite my ability to disappear from contact, our friendship has become one of the main ways too trace distance, growth, and time both through my photography and life.

Anthony and Meghan, Portland, ME. 2011




Anthony, Manchester, NH. 2010


Meghan, Manchester, NH. 2009



3.14.2011

The process of thought.

The sun began to set somewhere in Connecticut, on a bus between Boston and New York. I'd left my camera in my side-bag, having thrown that into the overhead luggage section, with the idea of watching trees march past and bridges fly overhead in a sort of half-asleep, thoughtless state. This was during a phase where I found it hard to detach myself from my camera, often photographing too excitedly. It was near impossible to have moments where I clearly knew that I should be photographing or those when I definitely should be enjoying "personal time".

Inevitably, as the sun was just disappearing, I noticed a sort of glow within the bus illuminating everyone in a red-ish gold. I sat there for a good fifteen minutes trying to picture it as a photograph, more importantly wondering if in the grander scale it was worth it to stand up and dig for my camera. I couldn't decide if it was a reflex urge to take a picture simply because the light was beautiful or if it sincerely meant something to me. I imagined it in a contact sheet as an image I would never scan, then as something moving, not deciding between either.

I eventually stood up to get my camera, settling back in as the bus turned a corner, behind a hill with a sunless tree-line; the instant was over. Again, I sat mulling over the meaning of it at all, and as the sun would occasionally peek back through I would look through the view finder, incessantly thinking of the purpose. After a span of time that seemed like the end of the light, we turned a corner and one last brilliant, red beam shot through the aisle. The debate moved aside as that sort of higher, subconscious decision-making mechanism within reacted.


I've since resolved the argument over when I should or shouldn't be photographing, realizing to be an artist means never really separating these positions--as exhausting as that can be--though, I do at times appreciate a day without taking a picture, or thinking in photography, as much as a day full of fruitful inspiration.


Chinatown bus, somewhere in CT