So scroll down to the last post, and you can see the first part of an introduction to a photo/text based narrative I am pursuing out in Colorado.
The introduction continues with this next vignette composed of three pictures. The first two were made on my iPhone (gotta love those Apple products!), and were photographed while descending into the Denver airport in January 2013. The first two photographs are the same image, one turned negative.
The third photograph was made an my elementary school during the summer of 2013. It’s a mural, with part of the picture showing a girl throwing paper airplanes into the wind.
In the current mock-up for the book, there is a short piece text between the positive and negative images made during my descent:
So in preparation for my trip back West, I went online – mostly Facebook – looking for people from my past. I spent a long afternoon scanning in photographs from a trip to the Canyon Lands in Utah from back in the day, and while doing so, I spent way too much time on Facebook. I didn’t attempt much contact, but did send some friend requests – looking at old girlfriends, and classmates from high school and even back to elementary school. Most of my requests were ignored, which really might be for the best actually, because the curiosity and inquiry about these people was the real search; somehow it still feels like part of the journey, a way of reconnecting with who and what I am, as well as what this place means as part of my personal history.
I perused the Internet like this for about a week, looking for trances of an earlier self. When I finally flew into Denver, it was a cloudless day on the eastern plains, with a dusting of snow over the landscape, bits of brown visible beneath this layer. I was a little anxious, wondering if I could find the pictures I felt I needed to make. I took some photographs with my phone out the window of the plane. Somehow, I wanted this act of looking down to replicate my own looking back. And despite my anxiety, I was so excited to be back and photograph, to see what pieces I could find.
Flying into Denver that afternoon, the sky was clear. It was early January, and there was a dust of snow on the ground. The light was that rich Colorado light. When I took those photographs with my phone, I was excited by what I saw, but I was mostly trying to give voice to my anxiety.
When I landed, it was a different story. Everything was totally different and completely the same. And I knew immediately I found what I needed to photograph – so much of myself lies in that landscape. A strong resonance was pulling me to photograph just on the drive home from the airport. The pictures were there for the making.
The framed piece for exhibition will be something like this, the final piece being about 2 feet at its widest point.