part 1 of a diaristic series.
my dad was sick, i was in bad relationships (friends/love), my sister was depressed, and i didn't want to keep trying to make photos. i was in college but had a full-time job (paid only for part-time) and when i wanted to get away i'd walk around the neighborhood. my life felt contained to home and a 2-mile radius.
these are the magician's secrets. while i believe it's much more fun to wonder how a photo was made, there are two reasons to reveal the process. one, it's too easy to assume that the more impossible shots were made in photoshop. and two, not many people know all the variables that make up film photography.
- my dad sleeping on the couch (his bed for 20 years by choice) under three of his toy-light-changing bulbs
- same as above taken moments later
- our house's front door, a handheld light-changing orb and my reflection in the glass
- my dad on the couch again, cushions close to the camera
- my sister lying in the backyard by direction after many attempts to photograph a straw-person, leaning over her on a ladder
- bug-bites all over my ankles, bound up in binding cloths to prevent scratching, full frame camera precariously balanced on tripod
- my sister posing for photos and talking, note on her mirror covering part of her reflection
- pool of water with strange colors from construction material in a neighbor's driveway
- stick in the woods, photo rotated
- trees far off, photo cropped heavily from a bad photo of a car
- cropping of a photo of flowers i bought my mother in a vase
- my staged, soaking wet pants supposedly hanging to dry
- using exceedingly hot water to make my skin bright red
- blood on my leg
- sister's friend playing guitar at a high school house party