Hee hee - this is a letter I just got from my dear grandparents. Silly Grandpa put the stamp on upside down. I am not quite sure why I find this amusing enough to put this on my blog.

Rather, this funny happening reminded me of the photographs I took of my grandparents while I was in MO for Christmas.

Hands hands hands. I love them. Especially my Grandpa’s. I absolutely love this photograph. It was a stroke of accidental brilliance. At least I think so. What do you think?

This is my beautiful Grandma Sue. She writes in only capital letters just like Mom. Make sure you click on this photo to make it bigger - it’s worth it.

Silly Grandpa, he made some pretty hysterical faces right before this, but I prefer his natural expressions. I really like the combination of colors & patterns for some reason. It is oddly satisfying in its quirkiness.

Usually, my obsessions are concentrated on hands (see above), but lately I have taken to ears. Specifically women with wispy strands out of place and delicate earrings.

And out of respect to my grandparents, this is how I KNOW they prefer to be represented:

I can get away with getting uncomfortably close to them with my camera - all because they love me. This is how I so often wish I could photograph the people I meet and adore. All the little details I observe - preserved forever. The details constitute a  portion of reality - more prominent in my world than most. But to the average viewer, this would not be considered documenting reality… mainly because I am selecting small details to represent entire persons.

I guess that’s just my vision. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

* P.S. Check out this link to KayLynn Deveney’s work if you enjoyed these images at all. She spent a good deal of time getting to know an elderly man named Albert Hastings - all while documenting the small moments of his day-to-day life. I stumbled across her work in our college bookstore and fell in love with it - especially the handwritten, interactive aspect between artist and subject.

This morning in my sleepiness I stretched out an arm. And in my dreamy state, my body registered physical pain. Upon waking, I discovered that the pain was real. My forearms feel like brittle rubber bands; my shoulders feel heavy with tension. (Most of my body is complaining to me this morning.)

All this for ONE negative. While it poured rain yesterday, I hauled all my photo gear plus all my props for my still life up to the Student Center. I juggled a backpack stuffed to the max with notes and objects, a second backpack containing the camera and lenses, a shopping bag about the size and weight of those backpacks filled with still life items, a tripod (a heavy-duty one, mind you), and I balanced an umbrella too - trying to keep from getting soaked. Only a ten minute walk. But so, so long. So heavy.

In that afternoon, I took six negatives of two separate still lifes. Lives. (I never know which one it is.) One was rather brilliant, I thought. The other feminine yet surprising. I ended up working from about 12-3:30.

After my art history class and dinner, I toughened up and decided to develop all that film with the few night hours I had left… even though my body was exhausted. Being at Bergen at late hours of the night, with no one to keep me company except the Cave checkout people, always makes me feel insane. I’ve had encounters with the Cave people where I’m pretty sure they thought I was on something. Last night was one of those nights - I just get like that just from sheer tiredness. (”Cave people” check out the darkroom equipment to photo students.) Every time the guy spoke to me, there was at least a 5 second processing delay on my part. I felt kind of dumb. But that was the condition of my mind & body at that hour.

I don’t recall making any major mistakes while developing. But I was horrified when my test strip revealed 4 negatives extremely blown out. Out of the six I shot yesterday, only one appears to be usable. That is the one I have shared.

At this point I am still unsure of what I did wrong. Yesterday I had to put into practice some of the material I learned that morning in class - calculations for  how much time to increase the exposure when the bellows are extended past a certain point (Bellows Extension Factor).

Today is a new day. I am disappointed about yesterday. But these good things make me happy:

1. Mutemath is coming to Savannah.

2. The breathing exercises my brother invented for me over Christmas still help calm me down.

3. It is pleasantly cloudy but not rainy today.

4. This weekend I am going on my first real photo shoot with my friend Janelle! (Real photoshoot: driving to a location outside downtown Savannah.)

5. God is gradually teaching me to loosen my tight grip on my academics, my plans, and my need to have control of my day-to-day tasks. It is unhealthy. And I think yesterday was a big exercise in “rolling with it.” As far as the ruined film goes. My body aches, but there is more film to be shot. He is still in control… and I am even more thankful for that when things don’t go according to my plan. My plan isn’t guaranteed to work out. In fact - it won’t. I rely on my diligence to get things done - I find security in the relationship between my hard work and the successful order it brings to my life. But my hard work won’t stop bad things from happening. My hard work doesn’t always equate to success, and it never equates to salvation. Father, let me find my security in Your salvation - in Your love alone. Not in myself or in my works. Let the work of my hands glorify the One who MADE these hands. I am only able to do things well because of You. May I find my worth in Your majesty.

This weekend involved some madness (and it’s not over yet!). Friday morning I spent about two hours around Pulaski square shooting four negatives (yes, that is an average of two negatives per hour). Went back out in the afternoon for a few more hours and shot some reflections on Broughton street. That was a somewhat bad idea because between the big photo box (that’s the camera) and my photo cape, we attracted quite a lot of attention together. All Rachel wants is to be discreet. Subtle. This camera doesn’t allow for that. I had several people approach me with bewilderment, enthusiasm, admiration, amusement, and possibly a mix of these. One man was intoxicated. Eeeek.

Then I spent a grand total of seven hours at Bergen on Saturday while it poured rain outside developing all those negatives by hand and making contact sheets. The coolest part? Turning on the lights after the first two minutes of fixer to see that my negatives looked okay! And seeing my first contact sheet with my friend Megan on it. I rarely take portraits, so I figured the first week would be the best time to try! Amazingly, she didn’t blink even with the one-second-long exposure.

I am somewhat disappointed that none of the shots are of excellent caliber, but I’m glad I didn’t ruin all ten pieces of film! Just two. Working with a light meter and doing all this math… it’s going to take some getting used to.

I am most pleased with the top negative on this page - the reflection of the man walking by. I’m also liking these two a lot:

What’s neat about these negatives is that they feel like my first real photographs. Sure, I’ve taken plenty of pictures throughout my lifetime - on everything from underwater disposable cameras to my Grandpa’s Polaroid camera to an assortment of digital cameras. But these 4×5 negatives… this is not something a person off the street could pick up and run with. This is some difficult stuff. I feel like a mad scientist - carting around all my instruments, recording all my measurements, then hauling it all off to the darkroom to be alone with the chemistry and the timer. We learned in my 20th Century art class about one of the first major photographs - taken in 1839 by Daguerre. Just the fact that we can pinpoint when he took his first photograph - and which negative was his first! That boggles my mind - knowing how many pictures I have taken in my lifetime. (A lot has changed between 1839 and 2010.) But this experimenting I’m doing in Large Format class… I feel a little like Daguerre and the others who came before him did. NOT that I’m making ground-breaking discoveries. But I am involved with the materials and processes at such an intimate level - I am truly beginning to take control of my art now. My camera is just a box. It does nothing but provide the mechanical aspects through the lens, the shutter, and the bellows in order for me to capture my image on a giant piece of film. This is not a “smart” box like today’s digital “take-my-picture-for-me” cameras. It has no brains. It is empty inside.

Hopefully by the end of this quarter we will be a better team. As I learn to operate the thing properly and use it to the best of my abilities to craft the images as I see them.