three years ago

march, three years ago (march, a lifetime ago)

this time last year

november 2016's sixty second photograph and if I've learned anything at all in life, it's to keep the words 'thank you' on mindful repeat. thank you, thank you, thank you.

(music by my favorite, mr. moses sumney)

sixty second love letter (one)

love letter//number one from andrea corrona jenkins on Vimeo.

a sixty second photograph that is really a sixty second love letter to a place I love so much it makes my bones hurt: san francisco.

I last traveled there in august of 2016, thanks to my dear friend tracy. sometimes I think I miss it more than portland. but I don't want to talk about it.

year two of the sixty second photograph project and we're not making films every month like we did the first year, just every once in a while, you know, all quarterly-like. which gives us all a little more breathing room, I think. I first shared this film during the great in between, aka my six-month silence here. I put it out there with the rest of the lovely films, said nary a word about it. now feels like a good time to say a word about it.

tracy, this is for you. you are all up in this film, even if your face isn't.

(music: queen by the octopus project)

august's sixty seconds

ava turned sixteen this summer, friends. sixteen. momentous occasions such as this call for extraordinary adventures so we hopped a train to new york for her first trip to one of my favorite cities in the world.

this here is the little film I made of it for the sixty second photograph project. full disclosure: it was not easy to remember to stop and shoot bits and pieces of footage of our time together. in fact, it really slowed us down. but, wow. I'm so glad I made myself stop, made myself stop and shoot the bits and pieces. because I know I'll treasure this little film forever. forever and ever and ever.

and I think ava will too.

(music by caribou and special thanks to my good friend jen lee for letting us crash on the floor of her sweet brooklyn flat)

july's sixty seconds

I've made three little films for the sixty second photograph since I've been gone here, three I haven't yet shared. july already seems like something that happened a lifetime ago. scouring the waters for shells down in southern florida already seems like something I did in a lovely, fevered dream.

I'm a little crazy for seashells. actually, I'm a lot crazy for seashells and would happily spend all of my days stooped over shallow ocean waters, looking for those sweet little guys. they make me happy. they really, really do.

june's sixty seconds

err, 156 seconds. because june needed more than 60 seconds. because, summer. so maybe I'll shove this little film in the freezer with the strawberry freezer jam I made this year, the jam we're trying so hard not to eat right now because we know how good it will taste in january. maybe I'lll grab it six months from now when we're squarely lodged in the middle of january. maybe that's what I'll do.

(more lovely summer films over at the sixty second photograph, a project I've been participating in since the beginning of the year)

(music is swim team by arms and sleepers and I love them, I love them a lot)

may's sixty seconds

76 seconds in savannah, georgia and maybe I lost day trips to the oregon coast when we moved from portland, maybe I lost astoria and manzanita and all the sweet little towns that dot the 101 but I've got savannah. at least, there's savannah. when I moved back home, I knew it'd be there, just waiting for us.

(more lovely little films over at the sixty second photograph, a project I've been participating in since the beginning of the year)

april's sixty seconds

I will want to climb inside this little film and live, from time to time. I won't be able to, but I will want to.

here's hoping some wonderful weirdo somewhere will invent exactly this kind of portal.


p.s. more wonderful little films over at the sixty second photograph, a project I've been participating in since the beginning of the year)

p.p.s. major (and I mean MAJOR) bonus points if you can tell me which film the music is from.

march's sixty seconds

well, more like 139 seconds. march in 139 seconds and it's warm enough to ride the bikes now and the trees are exploding with blooms and little green leaves and the sun hangs around a little longer and finally, I can see light at the end of the tunnel, the wonderful, proverbial light.

more march films over at the sixty second photograph, friends. I sat myself down this morning, fell into each one of those little films before I put on monday's armor.

february's sixty seconds

sixty seconds of moving pictures shot in the city with my people on the greyest of february days, a dead grey, really. but that's february for you. month two of the sixty second photograph and I really struggled this go round. fumbled my way through the process, made a crap load of mistakes. but I'm letting go, folks. make and release, make and release. and hopefully, learn a little something in the process. this is my mantra.

p.s. more about the project here, and more lovely february films over on the site.

p.p.s. music by the incomparable nathan corrona aka dj dust.

the sixty second photograph

(music by my friend dan smith aka listener)

here is a little piece of my life. a little piece of what january looks like around here, a piece of a bigger project that, quite frankly, scares me.

the sixty second photograph is a year long project-- eight still photographers committed to learning how to make pictures move. one tiny film each month, 60-120 seconds in length, for the next twelve months. we are all of us brand new to this thing, feeling our way around the metaphorical dark, jugulars completely exposed. what I mean to say is, it's hard to say yes to projects like this. to processes that are not safe or familiar, that involve fumbling around, asking for help. it's also hard to put the work out there when you know it could be one hundred times better, when you know (you just know) you might look back and cringe.

but it's also intoxicating. and essential to profound creative growth, which is why I said yes. I wanted to say no (I really, really wanted to say no) but it had to be yes. yes, I will learn something new. yes, I will make all the mistakes. yes, I will maybe want to pull my hair out. yes, I will make myself vulnerable. yes, I will wander around the metaphorical dark til I find the metaphorical light switch, all the metaphorical light switches, yes, I will do this. yes, yes, yes.

and I'm glad I said yes. I'm still scared. but I'll ride that happy glad feeling all the way til the end of the project in december, collecting small victories as I go. it's the only way.

(more moving pictures by talented photographers I am completely honored to be working//learning alongside over at the sixty second photograph)

(and thank you, leah, for giving me just the push I needed)