for a day, maybe two

there are some photographs I'd like to climb inside and on this grey rainy monday morning, this is one of them.

(taken with the holga and 120 kodak portra 400 speed film, something like three years ago in south texas)

because when people dance

"through time, through the ages, what endures is mostly art. art seems to be everything humankind leaves to its heirs. whether through buildings or books or paintings. or music or movement. or dance. in that sense, I think of a dance performance the most current, the most up-to-date history lesson as it is in a constant relationship with its most recent past and can only happen in the present. dance also somehow doesn't acknowledge borders in the same way as many other art forms. even when certain styles try to limit themselves or work within a frame, the movement of life, its choreography and its needs for flux take over very quickly, allowing certain styles to mingle with others. everything engages with everything naturally. and dance settles only in the space it really belongs to-- that of the ever-changing present.

I believe that dance may be one of the most honest forms of expression for us to cherish. because when people dance, whether in a ballet performance, a hip hop battle, an underground contemporary show or just in a discotheque cutting loose, there are seldom any lies deployed, any masks worn. people reflect each other constantly but when they dance, perhaps what they reflect most is that moment of honesty. by moving like other people, by moving with other people and by watching them move, we can best feel their emotion, think their thoughts and connect to their energy. it is perhaps then that we can get to know and understand them clearly.

I like to think of a dance performance as a celebration of co-existence, a way to give and make space in time for each other. we tend to forget this but the underlying beauty in a performance is that it is primarily the convergence of a mass of people seated one next to the other, all sharing the same moment. there is nothing private about it. a performance is an extremely social experience. all of us assembled for this ritual which is our bond with the performance, our bond with the same present.

and so, in 2012, I wish everyone lots of dance. not to forget all their problems of 2011 but on the contrary-- to tackle them creatively, to dance around them, to find a way to engage with each other and the world. to engage with life as a part of its never-ending choreography. dance to find honesty. and to transmit, to reflect and to celebrate it."

--sidi larbi cherkaoui


(happy international dance day, friends)

(testing testing)

hey, how about a few test shots with the new PX680 color shade cool film? which I took a few weekends ago when that guy I like (yep, the one I'm married to) and I headed downtown for a night at the crystal hotel. that was a good weekend, people. I need a little time machine. is what I need. so I can revisit past adventures and getaways. please, someone invent that. 

(some necessary information, should you feel you need it: above images taken with the polaroid SX-70 and impossible project PX680 beta/test color shade cool film, no ND filter, exposure dial turned all the way dark, temperature in the 60s)

found

so in the process of all the sorting and cleaning and organizing, things have been found. gems have been unearthed. for example, this spectacular john denver 45, which was snatched up at a church basement sale a few years ago. people, I'm not a big john denver fan but daaaaaang. with a sleeve like that, it doesn't really matter.

who knew a record sleeve could bring so much happy? I mean, really. happiness for days.

1983 (and so on and so forth)

not sure what my eighties self would have thought of friday night's all school eighties dance. I mean, I think she probably would have been fascinated. plus maybe a little mortified but mostly fascinated. I can distinctly remember my preteen self wondering, what are future people even going to think of the eighties? we have no style, no real definitive style. we are nothing like the fifties, the sixties, the seventies. what defines us? I just couldn't see it. because I was living it, I guess. I turned ten in 1980, twenty in 1990, so there you go. I am the eighties.

so, friday night I slapped on my (ahem, original) go-go's pins, yanked my hair into a stupid side ponytail (which I never ever ever would have worn back in the day, by the way) and declared my sloppy self properly attired. oh but to see my daughter wearing the clothes I wore a hundred years ago, the colors, the tights, the mess of pins. to see her at the dance standing next to the boy she likes, to see the sweet, awkward way that all played out. the whole scene made me ache. filled me with the sort of longing that can only be described as ridiculous. and so of course I hid behind my camera the whole night, tried to figure out how I really felt about the whole thing. mostly, I felt old. I tried to pretend I didn't but I felt old.

and I wondered what these dances will look like in twenty or thirty years. what will define the style of the millennials? the 2010s? what pieces of clothing will ava save? what will she share with her own children? what will make her laugh? cringe? and will it make her feel as old as I did friday night? probably.

anyway.

I am still wallowing in nostalgia here which means I will be spinning eighties records all week long and maybe watching john hughes films on repeat. it also means I will be treating my eighties self to a little neon because you know, after friday night, she really sort of deserves it.

I'm blaming it on spring

I don't know what happened but something inside me snapped this week and now everything is everywhere. it started with a drawer filled with too many ridiculous things, which I promptly dumped, cleaned and sorted. and then once I started, I couldn't stop. bins, drawers, closets, shelves. I've upended the contents of this house. it's for the best, really. furniture has been rearranged, collections have been switched around and now there's an urge to paint, a really really strong urge to paint.

my desk is maybe the only uncluttered space in the house, which is funny since it's usually the other way around. you know what else? I've done some excellent thinking this week. creatively speaking, things were sort of off the charts there for a couple of days. ideas coming at me left and right, hovering and flashing around my head like lightning bugs. I couldn't write them all down fast enough.

there's still a mountain of work ahead but there's something to be said for momentum, something to be said for making space.

from the weekend

but first, before I dive headlong into the seemingly insurmountable pile of work and the week ahead, a few favorite images from the weekend. responsibilities were shirked, fun was had.

you?

green

green, green is the word over at words to shoot by, a little photographic collaboration I contribute to.


green is a good word for right now. green is everywhere. especially here in the great pacific northwest. what struck me most when we first moved here five years ago was just how deeply green everything was, is. lush carpets of moss cover a wild variety of surfaces here-- slabs of sidewalk, tree branches (sometimes entire trees), rooftops and the occasional abandoned car. we are covered in carpets of tactile green and I have grown to love it.


(the above was shot with a polaroid sx-70, impossible project PX680 color shade film, july 2011)

all I'm saying

is that it's fun to take pictures of people taking pictures.


happy monday, friends.

instant palm springs

I've been thinking of words but the instant photographs from palm springs are much better. again, many thanks to the ace hotel (and all the ace folks involved) for a lovely, unforgettable experience and to my sweet friend nataly who knows how to bring the fun. nataly, who works a flannel caftan better than any woman I know.

there are more images, more words, more details (I squeezed more out of that 48 hours than I thought possible) but I am a girl who takes her time with these sorts of things. you can read a little bit more about my getaway over at shutter sisters and I'll tell you, I am just a little bit excited about returning to the palm springs ace in october for shutter sisters oasis. I'll be doing a little teaching, I'll be doing a little learning, I'll be doing a little happy sun dance. I'll be doing a little bit of everything. I am stoked. and I think there are still a few spots open, if you want to join us.

lastly, I would be remiss if I did not mention the impossible project, who sent my order lickety-split so I would have a few packs of the beautiful new PX 70 color shade film to shoot during my little getaway. I knew palm springs would love the PX 70 film, I just knew it.