A while ago I went back through some old photos from my "artsy photographer" days, and was kind of stunned at how much I loved their intimacy and raw, unfinished-ness.
This was before I got into more staged work with volunteer models, during my "cross-process all the films" phase. At the time, I didn't think much beyond random experimentation, and regarded most of my work as amateur-ish (it was) and therefore unremarkable.
But something about this unpolished, rougher version of myself speaks to me now; time and distance has made her a stranger. It's a bit like peeking into the window of a friend's house. I know her, but I don't *know* her, so I'm not inclined to judge.
I woke up to some cool news this morning, and I have to share!
“Back in the day” (ie. before kids), I was an aspiring fine art photographer. Most of my photographs from those days are listed with a stock agency, Arcangel Photos, that specializes in offbeat, artsy photography.
It’s been years since I’d sold anything, which isn’t surprising; my portfolio is old and very small compared to the professionals. I figured they’d retired my images, or shoved them to the back of a virtual drawer of search results somewhere, never to be seen again. But today, I got an email from royalties management, noting I’d sold an image.
That was a pleasant surprise in and of itself, but then I saw the publication and did a double take – it’s the cover of a French reprint of a Margaret Atwood novel!
I’m having a fangirl moment! Margaret Atwood has been one of my favorite authors since I was in college; heck, when I first read The Handmaid’s Tale, I was that young, aspiring photographer, living out of a one-bedroom apartment with my then-fiancé and two cats instead of two kids. What a rush!
And that’s the story of how I checked an item off my life list that I didn’t even know I had. 😀
I was going through old photographs after Dad passed with the intention of putting together a photo book, and came across some of my really old stuff.
It reminded me that Tim and I started dating 15 years ago. He was obviously my favorite subject, with a few dramatic selfies (which were not called selfies back then) thrown in for good measure. Man, we were young.
Happy 15 years, love. Let’s make the most of all the years yet to come.
Shortly after we moved here, my parents bought the property next to ours and gave it to my brother, so today we decided to take a look around. At the back of the property are three junked cars that have been there for decades – an Oldsmobile, a Buick, and a Hudson. All of them have been stripped for parts, had their windshields shattered, are overgrown with trees and weeds, and are full of bullet holes from bored and/or disappointed hunters.
The last time I explored the land, I was a senior in college. I made these cars the subject of a photojournalism assignment. I think I got an A for conveying a sense of emotion and humanity without directly photographing a person.
I visited on three separate occasions in 2003 and 2004 as well. The cars lend themselves to high-contrast, black-and-white photos. Each time I go, I see some new detail I’d overlooked before.
This afternoon, I went back with my iPhone. The cars themselves haven’t changed much, but the photographs have. My eye probably has, too, thanks to the rebirth of square photography. Welcome to the age of Instagram.
I wonder what these cars will look like ten years from now. I wonder if I’ll still be drawn to them, and if so, I wonder what those photos will look like.
This post is only two months late in coming, but I had the good fortune to spend a week in London for work back in November. Here are some highlights, including yummy food, sights, and pics from a street art tour:
Could be a while…
Street art tour
Street art tour
Kathryn with tea
London at night
Mind the Gap