♫: Make A Change -Skankin' Pickle
One of my favorite things (aside from good food, good music, and a secret, bizarre fascination with really awful reality TV shows) (soooo in other words: I am totally watching
The Kandi Factory as I type this) is photography.
I am not very good at it, I mostly just punch buttons and spin dials until something happens, but this might be the year for me to change that. I hate feigning dumb as an excuse for laziness, no matter what my blonde locks might otherwise advertise, so perhaps it is time for a class or two. Or twenty.
Thousand. Stay tuned.
When I was in high school I had a good friend that videotaped everything. I mean everything--from the dumb to the even dumber, he had it all on tape. Concerts, skateboarding, pranks, 4th of July fireworks, first loves, first hates, road trips to Minneapolis, road trips to Omaha, playing billiards in a dark basement room with strobe lights (I am still pretty sure this is the fastest way to end up on the local news, by the way: Kid Takes A Strobe-Lit Cue Ball To The Head, Friends Claim That Dude, They Were Totally Trying To Break The Ball And Not, Like, Their Friend's Face) (Thankfully it never happened, although we did have a few close calls), hanging out, whatever.
He would record everything, and then he would then carefully edit the videos, splicing the very best moments together with a soundtrack full of 90's punk, ska, and hip hop. We then would all gather to watch them--to watch ourselves in our own little personal Amusing Movie Of Life, playing out however we saw fit.
We would gather sometimes in the basement of his parent's home, other times in the basement of my parent's home, piled 6 to 8 deep on couches and chairs and the floor. We would watch and re-live a brilliance that only the self-absorbed brain of a teenager could conjure up about oneself; it was a hallucinatory heroism that would only grow greater with each and every viewing of the videos. We would watch the tapes and then off we would go again, off for more adventures, and off to frantically film and edit it all.
In spite of the good times, I would sometimes (silently) wonder how we could make video camera capture more. Could we make it capture the thick, muggy summer air, the deep belly-aches that only come with laughing too much, and the sweet smell of the grassy fields in South Dakota as we traipsed and traveled? How about the cricket-y, star-filled night sky? And the musty fog rolling over the green hills in the morning?
Those things provided an important feeling of innocence in our lives back then, after all; they provided a palpable-yet-naive perception of a charming life where nothing ugly, tragic, or painful could ever exist. A life where we were all safe and tidy and secure, a life where we were silly yet all fully in control.
As we would later discover--the video camera would not do those things. It could never do those things.
Regardless, I loved the videos and still look back on those days fondly. But even back then I always felt that photography was more my style, and the older I get the more my love of it grows. While in my youth I craved being able to know and control the entire story, as an adult I find an odd peace with knowing very little. I even find a strange solitude with things being a little haphazard and a bit out of control.
There is simply something that I really enjoy about a great photograph, about catching a quick moment in time and viewing it without any sort of soundtrack, storyline, or edited scenes cautiously cushioning the moment. What was going on before the picture? How about after? Was it happy? Great? Funny? Chaotic? Boring? Sad? Painful? Really painful, like a cue ball to the face?
It is whatever we want it to be. The viewer of a photograph will always attach their own feelings and thoughts to it, no matter what the photographer originally intended, and no two people will ever share the exact same views.
It would be boring, might I add, if they did.
Blogging (for me) is much the same. I used to want to be able to control everything that happened here, and everything that happened in the wilderness of the world wide web much in the sane way that my friends and I wanted to control and edit the videos of ourselves 15 years ago. I am the one typing here, after all, so shouldn't I be in control?
But as veterans of the internet know, you can only control so much. I can only do my best to share tiny pieces of my life here (albeit the mostly-happy-and-edited pieces), to hit the "publish post" button when I am done, and to then leave it to you, the reader, to decide for yourself what to think, love, hate, and feel.
It would be boring, might I add, if you didn't.
So with all of this, I thought I would share some old, random snapshots in my next few posts. It is all good in this hood, you guys--enjoy:
(BABY FACES. downtown minneapolis: december 2006) (see also: first year of marriage, probably explains a lot)
And now an outfit from Saturday, for running errands and a lovely dinner out. Temps have been inching towards the 70's here, hooray:
Chloe, Colorful Colorado. 5'8" (only) when teetering in her highest 6 inch Miu Miu platform heels. Likes fashion, broccoli, ice cream, clarifying that she does not eat ice cream with her broccoli as to not cause worldwide panic, hoarding beauty products & pretty shoes, tickle fights with her husband (he would like to clarify that he does not like them back, OKAY?), anything covered in sprinkles, any alcoholic beverage made with Tang, live music, clicking the camera, sarcasm fonts, vases stuffed full of pretty flowers, and laughing hard until her belly hurts. Wants an adventurous life, lots of puppies, to never obtusely wander around with her fly down, and to be an iconic Diane Von Furstenberg wrap dress with a bright, festive print when she grows up. This is where she bravely documents it all. (