November 15th, 2008

photography

Just some thoughts lately..



Lately I’ve been thinking more and more about what photography means to me, and the direction that my own photography is taking. Not just about my photography as an artist, but how there is a much deeper connection with the medium that is most definitely a form of art therapy for me. Growing up we never took many photos. Of course my mother took photos when we were on holiday (albeit not very many?), and the odd occasion such as Christmas etc. My parents rarely had the camera out (from what I remember), and it wasn’t until I hit my mid-teens that I really became obsessed with the idea of capturing memories. I bought a 1 megapixel camera with my friend and became obsessed with taking it wherever I went, photographing the absolute banalities of my existence. I had never shown any streak of creativity other than my writing, which I kept extremely personal, blazing through journals as a method to create a somewhat tangible mess out of my adolescent thoughts. It wasn’t until I went to college, initially to study mostly academic subjects, that I became really interested in photography. My grandfather had given me a very old pentax and I tried to teach myself as best I could about exposure, aperture etc., whilst scoring through reels of film trying to get it all right.

Collapse )

I guess my journal is a testament to my desire to document and archive my life through images. I have been photographing prior to 2003, but every time I look through my own archives I do still get emotional at images shot from 2003 - present. I find it incredible to look back at each month of each year and be flooded with memories stemming from just one photograph.

self portrait (his bed)



I quite like how the scars on my arm are rather evident in this photograph. There are a few scars I have (particularly one on my leg) that I find, well, less attractive, but I have always been quite keen on these. I know that sounds rather sickly masochistic, but I just consider them as evidence of my existence, something that I needed to do. They've been lightly dubbed my 'tiger stripes'...

(no subject)

I find it incredibly wonderful that Mama addresses me as her little 'mariquita'. It started when Eva began calling me it. It's slang for 'gay' in Spanish (and also means ladybird). She's been starting her messages with...

Hey my little Mariquita...

Bless.