You know when the anticipation of the events of a singular day become so scheduled and fragmented that the day itself ceases to exist? The events that you look forward to are swallowed in the chaos that surrounds the tasks at hand. Sometimes the meaning of time lies in moments passed and very rarely those that I look forward to. The future is never now. And now never lasts.
with Maisie, Erin, and Julie
Javi, Mallory, Julie, and Nathan
Julie and I shared a role of expired slide film at the WInter Flea back in February. I think that these are all photos that I took, but regardless, they captured the spirit of that day pretty well.
Yesterday was jam-packed with good times. Mallory, Julie, Katie, and I went to Hocking Hills and had a secret waterfall and creek all to ourselves. We spent hours dancing around and laughing. Later we met up for the Rise for Reagan Block Party, supporting the change for legislation (particularly involved in the treatment of rape cases) and raising awareness about safety. We drank in support of the good cause. At night, we went to a little house show to watch Xavier perform his poetry on his racial identity and struggle, Field Sleeper singing in an extension and exaggeration of his already easy voice, and Suther (I think that was her name) sing in smooth and unpretentious melodies. I've now got Ohio on my ankle and Ohio in my heart. It's not common to have this sense of community, and I feel lucky to be a part of it. Thank you to my friends, to Columbus, to the community for inspiring others to do good and to be a part of one another's lives.
Talia gave me this disposable camera back in June. I have slowly been using it since then. Some photos are from a music festival in Zurich, Switzerland.
Went roller skating with some homies for my bday.
'Twas lit indeed. It feels good to get back into flash photography in a party setting. When I first discovered my love for photography, I wanted to be a party photographer. Nothing is more telling than those candid/wasted/I-won't-remember-this-tomorrow style photos. I will do more of this, I promise.
I feel forced into an equivocal demeanor, in an effort to relinquish any evidence of what lies subsurface. If you peer over the edge, you'll find a canyon, barely visible behind the furtive tricks of the sun and the colors that your mind fools you into believing are there. The cavity is pervasive, with bleak chance of observing the theoretical end. Yet, in that cavity walks a soldier of prevaricative intention. Is the soldier trying to get out or trying to stay in?
We took over Julie's parent's future home and made it our giant creative studio.
What would Instagram be without feedback? This is a question that many of us should ask ourselves. We all love those validating likes and comments that make a photo worth posting. The meaning of a photo has been transformed in this medium. Julie and I want to strip the superficial, five-second-attention-span of the IG photo and take it back to its primitive roots.
One passage by René Magritte comes to mind:
"A painting hanging on the wall may be a disturbing factor; this disturbance is only superficial; it is caused by life; it is inevitable; fated; in the deepest sense it is order: law. There is nothing more peaceful than a plain surface, but the life of a good picture is more precious than the wall's silence. The train does not spoil the scenery."
Good photography demands reaction. Like the train that cuts across the landscape, it must cause some form of disturbance that transports the viewer to a psychologically significant place. Photos, or art for that matter, does not demand feedback. Photography should be something that happens to the viewer. Feedback is trivial to the power of the photo.
(I will make a point to say that we naturally enjoy feedback, but my point is that it is inessential to photography and should hold no importance when deciding whether a photo is "good" or not. The value is determined by the utility.)
Also, these photos are not good lol just including them because they were documented during the creative process.