I like to imagine
that all the photographs of my life exist in a tattered shoebox under my bed. In reality, I don’t have one (I have way too much random shit stored) but mentally, the little shoebox is there. From time to time, I come across a batch of photos that stop me and I think to myself “Damn, these definitely belong in that shoebox”.
Recently, I developed a roll of Kodak Ultramax 400 that Angie shot a couple months ago while we were out on a sunflower patch date. I’ve been wanting to get more hands-on with processes, so I cooked up a lil’ caffenol action and let the chems do their thing! After drying, I set up my Fuji XT-3 with a vintage macro lens to get some scanning down, converted the negatives using a software called NegPy (a free, open source, negative converting software made by marcinz606 on Github; who made it for the love of the game!) and the images that resulted, came with a long silence.
These scans, are not perfect.
Far from it actually; containing plenty of visual artifacts and a lot of extra crunch from my DIY development. However, it is this that draws me to them.
The captured view combined with all this lovingly-home-made texture brought a layer of memory/nostalgia that I was not expecting. That feeling, I realized, is how I want to “remember”.
When I close my eyes and remember,
I hear bits and pieces, like indistinct chatter on an old radio,
I smell the day on those I’ve hugged,
I can feel the texture of leaves as my thumb passes over its ridges, cuts, and edges.
Often times, I “remember” myself like this; blurry and soft, with just enough light to see my outline. It’s not that I cannot physically remember what I look like, but it is the Emotion of Self that comes crashing over me like wave. The best way to put it is that it is a sort of “Spiritual Brail”. By slowly passing my hands over the peripheral details of a memory, I am at the Will of The Experience. The joys and sorrows of existence mesh into a beautiful collage and I am gifted with small moments that existed right before, after, and/or just outside the frame.
It is instances like this that remind me that, I too, am amongst the subtle dust. Gently existing in a world filled with sharp edges and sentences like “maximizing capital gains”.
As for that shoebox, it needs not only to exist underneath my resting body. Perhaps I can carry it with me, so that when I need to, I can carefully comb through a handful of photographs taken by my beloved and begin to remember…
i love how these look, chris! i have floaters in my natural vision due to some eye problems, and the way these photos are developed, it looks exactly how i see the world with the floaters in my vision. it reminded me so intensely of what it is like to be outside on a beautiful sunny day.