Neighborhood Stroll

This follow-up 35mm point-and-shoot series is from that dreadful and awesome January snow I wrote about previously. Just the other week I received back 9 rolls of developed/scanned film that chronologically span the past year of my life. I figured I would start by sharing the most recent—working backwards through a fairly scattered collection of photographs. For an unknown reason, I let the canisters sit untouched in my bookcase for many months. My inaction was unintentional but prolonged. Now I wonder if the hesitation that overtook me was actually a healthy instinct to wait. Even if subconsciously procrastinating, I was probably correct to assume those little canisters held significant meaning, meaning I wasn’t ready to face yet. After scrolling through the now digitized files, I feel both relief and frustration. Some of the rolls I’m happy with. Others turned out terribly. As I spend more time with these photographs I’m certain that my emotions and technical criticisms will calm a little, that I’ll soften up and accept the images as integral bits of evidence, imperfect as they might be. Scratches and dust marks, improper framing and metering, as well as strangely underexposed halves, overexposed streaks, and all sorts of other errors force me to see in these photos what is actually true of nearly every scene they memorialize: my own humanity. I probably have more to write on that front. For now, it’s fitting that I introduce these newly acquired scans by exhibiting first, the ones taken in my current neighborhood. I’m not sure they’ll resonate with viewers in the same way strong urban settings or grand views across Europe might (if that’s your taste, just wait), but I decided to reserve them a spot in my portfolio anyways. In the end, it might be counterintuitive of me to publish some weak photographs for the sake of keeping a brief series intact. I’m just not sure what feigning excellence will do for me in the long run. I have much to improve upon and even more to learn. At the same time, I’m proud of my determination. I’m improving on a technical level, and I’m daily discovering what kind of creative rhythms serve me (and my neighbors) well. These particular photographs act as an ode to the snow and seem to set me on a new path, out of the six inch powder and towards someplace else. Strange as it may be, I’m on the edge of my seat.