I mentioned a few posts back that I’d been going around the city shooting some rolls of film. Seven rolls of film over the course of seven days. One roll per day. To be exact. Something made me want to stop and take stock of the place I call home. To do something a bit more personal, but at the same time still broad and kind of general. I finished up not really knowing what I would do with all 252 pictures. I thought about editing them down to something more specific and cohesive, but it felt empty and incomplete when I did. There’s something about the sprawl and mess of it all that I like. The photographs themselves run the gamut. They’re good, they’re terrible, they’re boring, they’re cliche, they’re mildly intriguing. And in the end, perhaps most importantly, they’re honest. Dust and scratches and everything else.
I’m putting it all out there on my website. It’s too easy to make a perfect photograph these days. Too easy to edit things down into a clean, crisp story. I’m taking a few step backwards in order to progress. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s a frightening and fragile thing to behold. It’s all over the place. It’s not nearly that interesting. It’s, at least, in chronological order. It’s Where I Live Now.