I grab the scissor from my back pocket and attack my fringe. I trim it there, chop it there, take off some clumps at the side. The sink is dark and I am light. I stop for an instant to observe the result. It is short. Much shorter than I had intended it to be but I like it. It makes my face appear boyish, like the wild child I used to want to be but couldn’t conform to with my dangling ponytail.
I am adrift and have been for the last few days, my mind and body unable to settle down. I have cleaned, tidied, and moved a lot in order not to think. I delete the jumble of mismatched words I have written and replace them with an account of my day. It is not what I want to write about but it is all I am able to write.
One of my aim for 2020 is to be more conscious of the time I spend reading/listening/watching new (to me) creative projects. I want to actively make time for other people’s work and creativity in my life. One way of achieving this has been to be more focused with my time but as the year gets busier, I am going to to lose that focus. To combat this, I am going to publicly share a list of works I’ve been enjoying on a weekly basis.
After reading far too much about it, I have finally decided to try my hand at alternative photographic processes, namely lumen print (photogram) and soon anthotype and chemigrams.
A lot of the alternative photographic processes are as old as photography itself so there is a plethora of work out there. I will not single out any artists in today’s blog post but rather point you to the Victoria and Albert Museum webpage for their 2011 exhibition Shadow Catchers: Camera-less Photography.
If you get curious and want to learn more about alternative photographic processes, I highly recommend the Alternative Photography website.
Michel de Montaigne – On Solitude
Like many people, the classics never appealed to me in school. The language appeared obtuse and there was a layer of elitism attached to the titles of old. It is only in my early twenties that I opened the books gathering dust in my bookshelf and every time it has been a delightful discovery. The language is not as obtuse as I once thought and the texts and stories are still relevant. And so it is with this selection of essays from Michel de Montaigne. Sometimes very much of its time and cringe worthy, there is still plenty to be gained from his words.
I often paused during my reading to discuss the concepts Michel de Montaigne put on paper. The context of our lives may be widely different but the questions raised remain and are still worth exploring.
I enjoyed this small collection so much, I have added more of his work onto my ever growing reading list.
I take the lumen print out of the sun and shelter it from light under a book. The afternoon is drawing to a close and it is time for a walk. We step out and soon I see my first flag. It takes me a minute to register the presence of the flag with VE Day. The importance of this day has been slipping out of my mind all day. Neighbours are spread throughout the streets in informal tea parties. I am glad to see them so far apart from one another.
Cartons of eggs fill the shelves. I grab what we need and move on. I want to do a dance, I want to be happy about having the eggs I like again but I cannot. I have to hold onto the tension inside of me until I am out and there are still the chocolates, the cereals, the breads, the sauces, the teas and coffees, the biscuits, the ice-cream, and the frozen food to go through.
I close the book and lie on my back, the grass tickling the side of my bare calf. A month ago, I would not have been able to relax in such public a place but this is life now. It is not devoid of anxiety, it is not safe, but my mind has pulled a switch. I have tried to resist the pull for the last couple of days, not wanting this to become normal but my fight was to no avail.
I lather the oil on the saddle, massaging it lovingly as if it were alive. Slowly, the leather drinks in the solution, its colour regaining a more natural tone. It isn’t the prettiest of saddle any longer. Battered by every day use, scratched by walls and other bicycles, it wears the scars of heavy use.
I want to get out but I do not really want to go for a walk. The rhythm of a walk too often help unravel my thoughts and I have thought enough for the day. Two lectures and hours of revising my writing has scrambled my brain. What I need is the speed of my bicycle, the wind in my hair, and the soothing thoughtlessness of a ride. But I can’t.
I have been spending a lot of time in my head the last few weeks. Time is mine and I can shape it as I want to. I am conscious of this diary, of the self imposed need to write everyday, and this forces me to pay attention to my days and think about them. How have I been feeling? What have I done? Those questions sometimes spiral into deeper ones. Ones I rarely write about here because I need more time to process them.
One of my aim for 2020 is to be more conscious of the time I spend reading/listening/watching new (to me) creative projects. I want to actively make time for other people’s work and creativity in my life. One way of achieving this has been to be more focused with my time but as the year gets busier, I am going to to lose that focus. To combat this, I am going to publicly share a list of works I’ve been enjoying on a weekly basis.
In this four part documentary from BBC Four, James Fox explores how the power of images has transformed the modern world.
From ancient history to the present, he looks at image creation and consumption. He dissects our relationship to the visual world and how images have come to define and shape the world, from everyday life to politics and desire.
In four hours, the subject can only be brushed. James Fox asks questions of us, makes us think, and ultimately challenges us to consider out own image consumption.
One thing I always appreciate from James Fox documentaries is the breadth of artistic work he presents. There are always multiple artists and movements I have never heard of, or a work of art I had never considered the way he presents it.
This four part documentary is still available to watch on the BBC iPlayer.
THE ANONYMOUS PROJECT from lee shulman on Vimeo.
Since 2017 filmaker Lee Shulman has been collecting photographic slides from everyday people. He exposes forgotten memories from our past, daily moments, celebrations, gatherings, and anything else people have deemed worth photographing.
Browsing the collection is like leafing through a family album, except that you don’t know the people. But the scenes are familiar. There are children playing, birthday parties, friends dancing, family portraits, newborns, holidays, etc.
I am fascinated by those everyday snapshots that often get lost. Those moments are the ones we live, the ones that accumulated make up our lives and yet they are too easily forgotten in the flow of history.
One thing that I can’t help but wonder as I explore the collection is what happened to the original owners of those photograph?
Explore The Anonymous Project here.
In the same vein but in video format, there is the Home Movies project from MoMA that is worth checking out.