365: v.34 (001-015)
If you are familiar with me and my photo history, this is where you get to groan and say “Another?” and I get to call you a negative little shit.
Self portraiture has always been the place I call home within photography. There are some layered and intimate reasons why— the kind that go on and on, as I unlock more layers of it myself, the kind I mostly intend to keep to myself. Not as a cryptic air of mystery as much as trying to find a delicate balance of when my vulnerability toes the line of oversharing.
When I was younger, I began and completed several “365 projects” that were focused on my self portraiture and recording that unsettling timeline in my life. After a long hiatus, I completed another in 2017. I have always had a knack for them, partly because of my obsessive nature, and partly because it helped me express myself. I would probably never recommend starting or seeking to do one. It can certainly be laborious, but the truth is, not everyone is going to even enjoy doing it. I, for a lot of reasons, really do.
It also causes unnecessary insecurity or guilt when you start one and never finish it. Fuck that. Truly. It simply isn’t for everyone.
The older I get, the less I think people need to “force” art. Yes, just take the damn picture… but please make sure you even like to take it. Examine your motivations for creating and don’t make it another form of self-deprecation. I have had long breaks, both wanted and unwanted, from photography and art as a whole. Making art should never feel like a chore or like a miserable homework assignment for a class you will never need in your future.
I have always started these projects on January 1st, as is the traditional norm for a 365. This time I chose to start on my 34th birthday while also departing from a strictly self portrait theme.
I am in a shadow period of my life. A lot of this is health-related. It feels important not to turn away and instead to turn toward it. I have never shied from myself and in moving through this, I know I have a story to document and to tell.
“This is not for you.” This is a quote plucked from one of my favorite books (House of Leaves) and it has always resonated with my art for me. It’s only for you if it makes sense to be and thank you for finding something to connect with, if so. This particular project is a little love letter to myself: past, present, and future. The endless journey of making amends to her— to me.
Here are my first 15 frames.
As a little side note, I’m not sure I will keep the layout of how I share these posts the same, because of my utterly frayed peanut brain, but this is how it is for now. If I remove my captions for each photo in the future, you can find them on my instagram or my flickr account.
001/365
The morning of my 34th birthday and the first photo for this project. I’ve been really struggling lately. When I first decided I was going to work on another 365, one specifically to document my 34th year, my days were a lot brighter. I almost lost the drive for it. A pinched nerve in my neck certainly isn’t helping me. But onward I go, like I always have. Since I’ve done this a lot, it won’t just be my face this time around. There is a lot more to my life that I want to remember, even when it’s hard like this.
002/365
When I was a little kid, I was extremely anxious about death, and would often fall asleep in a panic about my own mortality. I realize now, years into therapy, this has a lot to do with trauma. I held my fears all alone and it was a heavy weight to carry for such a small person. Today I asked my friends to hold some space for me as I spoke my fears into the aether and they held them, and me, so gracefully. Things are so different now, Amy.
003/365
I bought my first Polaroid in a CVS when I was a teenager and watched them briefly disappear. I’m really excited to acquaint myself with this cute little birthday gift from Mike.
004/365
Lisa’s here for our annual salt pond trip with Rachel and Vinny. “Wow. It’s been a while since I’ve used a PC,” she said, typing away.
005/365
“Look at this shit!” My wife4life cackled. We finally returned.
006/365
4th of July, Vinny looking cool at the top of the stairs from the deck. I had some landscape photos of fireworks, but to be honest… I think I hate fireworks.
007/365
We dominated a Fellowship of the Ring puzzle the first few days into this trip, all while watching the extended edition. This story has woven itself into some of the brightest and darkest timelines of my life. In high school, I wrote a love letter in Elvish to an undeserving boy I never spoke to again. I also used to skip school to see these movies with people I clung to because of the despairing loneliness and anxiety I felt in my crumbling home. One of those friends had given me an Evenstar pendant before going overseas and changing forever, along with letters and all the promises we didn’t keep. The rampant codependency of my youth is a murky, difficult thing to reflect on, even now. I wish I could tell that little nerd she’d be okay, this would be a comforting series and a home to her no matter what, and that she would share it with even closer friends in better days.
008/365
Post-storm skies are something else. The weather we had was up and down, much like how I’ve been feeling with a pinched nerve. Grateful for these beautiful sunsets and felt comfort in my discomfort all the same.
009/365
Sunset lamp, Nic Cage movies, and Silent Hill 3 well into the night. We laughed so goddamn much on this late night. On this trip in general.
010/365
Thankful to have married the man who gifts me with Nanaki pizza art, that I chow down on in spite of my lactose intolerance, like everyone else with lactose intolerance would do. (Pizza by Eric John Art.)
011/365
**MENTION OF ALCOHOL** This was the day we declared “let’s finish all the booze” over kanji homework. You may be surprised to learn that Lisa and I took midday naps.
012/365
I wish you lived closer, but you are a gift in my life, Lisa. It is a joy to see you and to miss you. Thank you for this decompression day of Sopranos and pulpy horror movies.
013/365
“Please drop everything and come to bed.”
014/365
Below our deck, tucked in the dirt and stones, beside the clover and groundcover, underneath this old plastic lawn chair… is a chipmunk’s home entrance. Needless to say we can never move this chair again.
015/365
Thrown to the wolves.