Keep Photographing
As long as a body of photographs remains open, almost any uncertainty can be answered in the same way: keep photographing.
Another photograph might solve it. Another month might make the direction clearer.
—Martin Kaninsky
As long as a body of photographs remains open, almost any uncertainty can be answered in the same way: keep photographing.
Another photograph might solve it. Another month might make the direction clearer.
—Martin Kaninsky
The film scans arrive and they are a mix of the end of summer and early fall. I’ve been thinking a good bit about the role of photography in my life. The world feels like it’s changing at warp speed and keeping up is something I’ve stopped trying to do. Instead, I keep coming back to things that are both simple and meaningful. These film photos are like an antidote for weariness. The curve of a watermelon, the light falling on the caravan, the silence between the seasons. The design of a photograph isn’t just visual—it’s experiential. We remember the feeling.
What if I stood in a field of cosmos, swaying in the wind, on a clear blue fall day? A field of flowers with enough depth to keep revealing itself. More things for the eye to discover. More subtle shifts in color. A pink flower on a screen is one thing, but a field of pink flowers spread across 30 feet is quite another. So there was a lot of looking. More detail gave me permission to be quieter and more relaxed in my photography. And, unexpectedly, more room for subtlety.
“It’s almost like playing the same piece of music in three different keys. The rhythm stays the same, but the emotional experience changes.”
—Tekla Evelina Severin