Vignettes
Alert: we had a publishing snafu, a major misspelling, actually. Apologies for the duplicate post.
š First off, thank you to my first pledged subscriber(!) and for the kind words, emails, and shares. My cup runneth over.
No new lensless work this week. There was more snow and the temps were below freezing. There are signs of new growth while waiting for the winter to give way to spring. Not a metaphor, mind you. Just nature being nature. I spent the week making selects and test prints (not pictured) for an informal crit with peers this afternoon.
Iām slipping back in time (Summer, 2024) to write about some work thatās been metamorphosing from photograph to installation to text and back.
Last summer, I was thrilled to attend a 3-week residency with no other plans than to write about a stack of photographs taped causally to the wall. There is, in fact, documentation of the installation, though the writing took another turn. The micro-essays aka vignettes, are in the process of being transcribed onto notebook paper, scanned, and printed. Photographing (or in this case, scanning) an object or flat artwork, including handwritten text, only to have the copy supersede the original, has been on my mind for some time.
Some excerpts below:
In Case of Emergency, Break Glass I am supposed to be writing about the photographs, the ones on my hard drive stashed in a folder warning me to take precautions, to steel myself, that Iām about to revisit the past. To be clear, they are not photographs, proper. To refer to them as vernacular snapshots would also be misleading. They function somewhere between reference photos and mnemonic devices lest I ever forget there was a time and place I called home. Downloads The āDownloadsā folder on my laptop contains random gems gathered from pockets of the Internet that for whatever reason, a saved link would not do. Currently, there are 47 items in my Downloads folder. One of these virtual treasures is a document I rediscovered by chance, āNotes on Photography & Accident,ā by Moyra Davey. The serendipitous find gives me great comfort today. āMy goal is to reclaim this critical history of ideas in relation to contemporary photographs, and to understand how the notion of accident might still be relevant.ā āAnd I have another motive as well: I want to make some photographs, but I want them to take seed in words.ā The passage above is not the primary source of comfort. It is the essay in its entirety. The comfort comes from reading words that sound like my thoughts while feeling displaced in my own practice. The idea of writing as trace, a nonlinear trail with points of interest marking the way. Nervous Habits Iāve been eating too many sweets, mostly Haribo gummies and Swedish Fish, a recent craving I cannot explain. Just this past week, Iāve purchased four bags, maybe five.Ā Predictably, I wake up with a dull headache and my eyes are tired. Itās preventable, and the fact that I keep coming back for more makes the situation even more masochistic. I hate them. I love them. The Insecurities āMy thoughts donāt stream out in a logical fashion. I am better at writing, editing than talking. On the page it is easier. My fingers.ā I wrote that statement earlier this week. I know what I meant, but upon reflection it feels like shorthand for āI am tired and broken.ā The Picture Window Iāve been hoarding the French Press. Not that anyone notices its whereabouts between 7 and 9 am. Everyone else is asleep. I have established this ritual of coffee and writing in the morning. It is my hill to die on. I trek the length of a football field from the kitchen to the sofa at the other end of the building, French Press in hand, to start my day with an unobstructed view of the cemetery. Russian Roulette On the wall in front of me is a mash-up of photographs spanning close to forty years and two distinct locales, although most of the images were made within the last decade. Water, specifically flood waters, and the absence of water, figures predominately, as do discarded artifacts, scenic overlooks, portals, and plant life. There are also references to death and chance.
To Be Continued.
šØThis weekās š„ links
I am unable to offer words of hope or solace this week. My bad. Mostly because I wouldnāt know where to start. Intrusive thoughts run rampant.
My hot links was a was getting a little crowded with the boycott schedule. Iām now utilizing Notes to post the overflow of links to actions and resources.
Revisiting this essay from the NYT on the 25 most influential work of American Protest Art since WWII. It grounds me to remember that not all protest art need look political.
February 28: Spending Blackout, General Boycott, Buy Nothing.
