Browsing "Raw Thoughts"


Today I took a walk about Savannah. Things to do: academic advising appointment with Lena at 1:30 (walk faster, stop taking pictures), pick up Student Ambassador Handbook from Erina after that, take pictures for Photo project (try not to look like too much of a creep photographing strangers at crosswalks), and purchase more canvas paper from Ex Libris to feed the Color Theory square-eating monster.

Things that actually happened:

1. Academic Advising Appointment, early by 12 minutes

I love Lena. Such a sweet, helpful lady. I picked out my classes for next quarter! (My last quarter as a freshman at SCAD!) I am now technically a sophomore (based on my credit hours). And I will probably be taking:

- Black and White Technique

- Intro to Printmaking (or 3D Design)

- and either Speech, Psych, or History of Photography I.

Got some decisions to make.

2. Handbook

(Yes. I got it.)

3. Birds

I watched two birds die in front of me today. One coming back from Photo. It looked like it had a heart attack and just face-planted while pickin in the grass for some scraps. It was a dove.

The second one was more shocking. Bull Street. A loud noise in a tree, then a plummeting tangle of birds. Looked like the pigeon got away. But the finch just landed on the pavement, feet up. Died instantly.

4. I am a bird. (A wren.)

5. My phone died in the middle of the day.

6. Ex Libris could not satisfy the Color Theory monster’s cravings. So I took pictures inside instead.

Then I discovered the Photography books. (Oh, Allison. You were not with me this once.) I spent my afternoon reading this little yellow book cover-to-cover. The Day-to-Day Life of Albert Hastings, photos by Kaylynn Deveney. Initially, it reminded me of my first project in Photo, with adding text to the image to expand (or limit) the viewer’s interpretation of the artwork. But having the subject of the works personally add the text… what an interaction. This is amazing. I want to do this. This is so Rachel. (Plus the handwriting! Kaylynn kept the images in a little notebook to show Alb. That’s what he called himself.)

And this brings me to a larger point. One I’ve had on my back burners for awhile. Being in this Photo class… well, first of all, I am not in love with the structure of the class. My professor’s style is very different from my own. He is so incredibly laid back. Like a rubber band without the zing… kinda loses some of its purpose. And it has occurred to me that I lack something my classmates all seem to have. A knack for conceptual photography. Posed. Created. Crafted. My process is different. I do not grab my camera with an image in my head – an idea, a light source, a model, an expression – no. I reach for Black Beauty when someone catches my eye with what they are naturally doing. A curious gaze. A pensive face. A book in hand, window light so smooth on his brow. A laugh and smile lines. I photograph what I see. I interact with those people while I am capturing their personalities, their lives, thier relationships. In the process of shooting, it becomes art to me. I allow my subjects to show me who they are. From there, it takes on meaning.

I love people.

And I am beginning to think that all this means that I am more inclined toward a documentary style. (Which means this “altered reality” project, while cool, is kicking my butt. Because that is something you craft.) It also means I am scared of studio photography type classes. With models. And lighting.

But. This little book of Albert. It encouraged me so much. What I do is still valid, and in keeping with my personality. I love it. So much that I will do this for the rest of my life.

Me photographing you is one of the highest compliments I could ever pay you. It is personal. My body is not a tripod, my mouth is not a kiosk for you to plug in your flash drive so I will spit out prints.

My aperture is my collection of heart valves.

And my shutter – my eyelids, my fingertips.