No photo today, sorry. I haven't had time to process one. I just wanted to let everyone know that I'll be away from the internet until Monday. I'll likely have some new photos to go through as well.
I hope everyone has a great end-week and week-end! =)
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
II Yu
This one is fairly apparent. I just really loved the sheen. Reminds me of flow ripples in a quiet, smooth creek.
Friday, July 24, 2009
I Yi
The first image of my series. If you haven't yet, read my artist statement for Hinge of the Way.I titled these images after I Ching guas, namely because I wanted titles that were completely detached from the content of the images, and secondly, I wanted titles that wouldn't outwardly add meaning or influence the viewer's perception of the images. Each title was randomly assigned, as well, so there wasn't any "hidden meaning" underlying the gua titling the image.
I also don't intend on discussing the individual images themselves much. Again, I want to let you create your own perceptual dialogue. I would be interested in hearing your takes or initial thoughts on the images, if you'd like to share, though! (I'll also answer questions, if you have them.)
大道的枢
Da dao de shu niu
Hinge of the Way
Within the trend of my work there is an inevitable return to the equine-human connection, something that drives me daily. The bond I have with my own horse is something far deeper than the typical bond shared between pet and owner. When riding, and especially when practicing dressage—an equestrian art akin to ballet—the separation between myself and my horse falls away. It is as much an art, a striving for something pure and beautiful, as it is a way of life, an act of trance and meditation.
While considering what to title this series, I wanted to find a way to express not only the removal of context inherent in the abstraction of the images, but I also wanted to convey the experience of the bond I share with my horse—the physical companionship as well as the act of trance in motion. Not able to express these ideas with a single word, as it seemed beyond the constraints of English, and perhaps even Western culture, I began to look at words with no direct translation into English, fascinated by the incompatibility of language versus meaning. I first found "hózh'q," a word in Navajo which means, "the beauty of life, as seen and created by an individual." I was drawn to it, but felt I needed to continue searching. Slowly I found my way into Chinese and Japanese phrases, which lead to my reflections on Chuang Tzu—writings close to my own spiritual center. Flipping through my rather old, dusty copy (it is a book I never leave behind when moving), I found what I sought immediately: "A state in which 'this' and 'that' no longer find their opposites is called the hinge of the Way. When the hinge is fitted into the socket, it can respond endlessly" (Chuang Tzu, 35).
The meaning behind "hinge of the Way," is far more embedded in this project and my own equine connection than it at first appears. My images, processed to bring out deep, rich blacks to assist in the removal of their initial context, depict and abstract features of the equine form. When we view and perceive parts of the body, we cannot separate it from our notions of the whole. However unconsciously the process, the perception of an arm is bound by its opposites—the perception of there also being a leg, a body. By abstracting them, by defamiliarizing them—a meditational process in its own right—I strive to remove the automation of the mind's pairing and identifying, allowing it to create new narratives. The withers, or any featured aspect of the equine form—"this" or "that"—no longer find their opposites. When preforming dressage, or experiencing the depth of the connection between myself and my horse, I no longer find my opposite, no longer find any separation between myself, or any other form. Just as I do when riding, I hope that the viewers of this series enter the same mental state, the same juxtaposition of "this" and "that," and find the hinge of the Way.
June 2009
Hinge of the Way
Within the trend of my work there is an inevitable return to the equine-human connection, something that drives me daily. The bond I have with my own horse is something far deeper than the typical bond shared between pet and owner. When riding, and especially when practicing dressage—an equestrian art akin to ballet—the separation between myself and my horse falls away. It is as much an art, a striving for something pure and beautiful, as it is a way of life, an act of trance and meditation.
While considering what to title this series, I wanted to find a way to express not only the removal of context inherent in the abstraction of the images, but I also wanted to convey the experience of the bond I share with my horse—the physical companionship as well as the act of trance in motion. Not able to express these ideas with a single word, as it seemed beyond the constraints of English, and perhaps even Western culture, I began to look at words with no direct translation into English, fascinated by the incompatibility of language versus meaning. I first found "hózh'q," a word in Navajo which means, "the beauty of life, as seen and created by an individual." I was drawn to it, but felt I needed to continue searching. Slowly I found my way into Chinese and Japanese phrases, which lead to my reflections on Chuang Tzu—writings close to my own spiritual center. Flipping through my rather old, dusty copy (it is a book I never leave behind when moving), I found what I sought immediately: "A state in which 'this' and 'that' no longer find their opposites is called the hinge of the Way. When the hinge is fitted into the socket, it can respond endlessly" (Chuang Tzu, 35).
The meaning behind "hinge of the Way," is far more embedded in this project and my own equine connection than it at first appears. My images, processed to bring out deep, rich blacks to assist in the removal of their initial context, depict and abstract features of the equine form. When we view and perceive parts of the body, we cannot separate it from our notions of the whole. However unconsciously the process, the perception of an arm is bound by its opposites—the perception of there also being a leg, a body. By abstracting them, by defamiliarizing them—a meditational process in its own right—I strive to remove the automation of the mind's pairing and identifying, allowing it to create new narratives. The withers, or any featured aspect of the equine form—"this" or "that"—no longer find their opposites. When preforming dressage, or experiencing the depth of the connection between myself and my horse, I no longer find my opposite, no longer find any separation between myself, or any other form. Just as I do when riding, I hope that the viewers of this series enter the same mental state, the same juxtaposition of "this" and "that," and find the hinge of the Way.
June 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Hoppland
Aha! A photo I give to thee!
Yes, indeed. I'm back up to posting speed. =) Soon I'll be posting images from my series Hinge of the Way, which I used for my photo final.
Anyway, this image was taken while walking on a trail off campus. Accompanied by two friends, I had hoped to find a subject to use for my final project--as this was a week or two before I came up with the original images that led to Hinge of the Way. I didn't find anything to make a series of for that project, but I did find a few niches of wild earth that, had I been a bit younger, I would have claimed as secret places to visit. This is one of those places.
I titled it "Hoppland," with a subtle referent nod to Sigur Ros' "Hopelandish"--a term they use to describe the made-up language featured in some of their songs. "Hopelandish," in a way, embodies all the fun, lighthearted things we make up as children, that spirit of imagination and magical exploration of the world and of life. So, by calling my image "Hoppland," I wanted to embody all the places we transformed or made up as children. Yeah, probably a lot of thought for a rather simple image. ;)
As to the photo itself, it was taken with the hasselblad, developed in the darkroom, and scanned. The scan turned up rather flat and--I think--blurry (the original image doesn't look so fuzzy up close), so I did do a little tweaking in Lightroom. I made the blacks blacker, and the whites whiter. =)
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Better where you are
I've meant to post a newsy update for quite a while. My most sincere apologies on that front.
I've been rather caught up with unpacking and getting settled. I don't work well when I don't have a designated space for myself. I typically need somewhere that is only mine--something that does not exist at home. As a result unpacking and getting settled is a very slow process. It's only been in the past week that I've gotten the desk in my room (which houses the family desktop) cleaned off enough to put my laptop on. I've also translated "my own space" into a specific time-place conditional--I can only do anything creative at my desk at night when everyone else is asleep, as I have complete, uninterrupted control of the space. That's fine; I'm a night-owl and morning-wolf, so I make it work fine. Hopefully soon I can tackle the basement here and clean that out so I can use it as my painting studio. Theoretically I could comandeer a table-type object and use it as a writing/image-processing station as well. I don't know if our wireless will transmit in the deep, though...Hmm.
Anyway. That is my excuse for not posting anything lately. It might be a while, still. I finally got a semblance of a place, so, of course, my computer starts acting up. I think I got it all sorted out as of last night, but I'm not entirely sure yet (it was a war of wars). So, until my laptop cooperates consistently for a while, I'm not trusting it with my photos (which are stored safely on my external hard drive).
I promise to post something as soon as possible, though. I hope all is well with you all! (And, yes, I have a lot of reading to catch up on!)
I've been rather caught up with unpacking and getting settled. I don't work well when I don't have a designated space for myself. I typically need somewhere that is only mine--something that does not exist at home. As a result unpacking and getting settled is a very slow process. It's only been in the past week that I've gotten the desk in my room (which houses the family desktop) cleaned off enough to put my laptop on. I've also translated "my own space" into a specific time-place conditional--I can only do anything creative at my desk at night when everyone else is asleep, as I have complete, uninterrupted control of the space. That's fine; I'm a night-owl and morning-wolf, so I make it work fine. Hopefully soon I can tackle the basement here and clean that out so I can use it as my painting studio. Theoretically I could comandeer a table-type object and use it as a writing/image-processing station as well. I don't know if our wireless will transmit in the deep, though...Hmm.
Anyway. That is my excuse for not posting anything lately. It might be a while, still. I finally got a semblance of a place, so, of course, my computer starts acting up. I think I got it all sorted out as of last night, but I'm not entirely sure yet (it was a war of wars). So, until my laptop cooperates consistently for a while, I'm not trusting it with my photos (which are stored safely on my external hard drive).
I promise to post something as soon as possible, though. I hope all is well with you all! (And, yes, I have a lot of reading to catch up on!)
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