July 2024 - Rolls 182-191
Throughout the last two blog posts, I have revealed the general pattern of my typical summer these last few years—May is all about reveling in the new warmth outside, celebrating special occasions with those I love, while June usually brings time at Laurel Lake, giving me the chance to switch up my daily routine and spend intentional time in nature. This just leaves July unexamined, with the climax of the summer and the experience with the Ordered World that is our yearly trip to the Outer Banks. My family has been vacationing at Cape Hatteras since my mom was a child, and she has carried on the tradition with Lizzy and I, returning to North Carolina with us almost every year since 2014. The week we spend there relaxing, enjoying the water, and exploring cool locations is a natural high point for the summer, especially now that Lizzy and I are adults and don't have the entire season free. Of course, I have always brought at least one camera along, and I've now captured the Outer Banks on almost every film camera I've used, from 35mm to 4x5 to my now-ubiquitous 6x7 medium format rangefinder. These compounding experiences, building up as I've grown as a photographer and in my understanding of the landscape there, have not been without challenges, and this year I encountered a different one that I wasn't expecting. Despite this, July was one of the most creatively fulfilling months of the year for me, and it became the next climactic moment of 2024, the second time I lost control and was swept along by the waves of the Ordered World. Let's discuss!
All summer long I had been dealing with the fallout of an accident I was in at the end of April, which by early June led to me not having a car while it was in the shop for repairs. Malia and my friends at work picked up the slack, helping me get to and from work, but this meant that I didn't have many opportunities to go photographing on my own during those months. That's why I didn't have anything to show for June after my time at camp, and why I only have two rolls prior to the beach in July. I still shot some strong images on these rolls, though—wildflowers blooming on the side of the road and down a forgotten path, dark clouds hanging over an overgrown field, and a hazy rainbow popping up behind some ordinary houses. That rainbow prompted a shift in my preparedness, as I had to grab a roll of film from the freezer in my mad dash to photograph it, leading to several of the images having heavy fog from the difference in temperature. I now have a roll of room-temperature film at the ready at all times! Despite that issue, I think that these shots convey how it feels to wind down an afternoon during the dog days of summer: everything's hot and humid, but there remains beauty to be found in the stillness and haze of July, waiting around every street corner. These photos ended up being a good warm-up as I got ready for the beach, getting me thinking creatively again as the peak of the summer approached.
Edward Street, South Bend, Indiana.
Near Ruskin Street, South Bend, Indiana.
Near Louise Street, South Bend, Indiana.
Mishawaka, Indiana.
Mishawaka, Indiana.
When we arrived in Hatteras Village I was prepared to be massively inspired to shoot as I have been in years past. And, as always, I did indeed take a lot of photos. But all week I felt restless and unsatisfied, like there was something missing that I couldn't quite place. I had ideas of what to photograph, and I did go to some locations and take what turned out to be good images, but that didn't make me feel better in the moment. I knew that I wanted to be out in the Ordered World, and yet I wasn't feeling drawn to anything in particular, something that has not really been a problem for me in the Outer Banks before. After giving this some consideration, I think that one of the main reasons I was feeling this way was that this was my fourth consecutive year there, which means that I have explored all the obvious subjects—the shore itself, dunes, lighthouses, and cemeteries—extensively, taking away the urgent sense of needing to photograph things because I actually already have. I was mentally ready to go all-in, but I didn't need to be; I could have just taken my time and enjoyed being there in that environment, something I plan to do this year when we go again. It feels good to look back now and see that I was still shooting productively, but at the time I wasn't confident in my work, and that was a weird emotion to experience on this vacation in particular. Perhaps as a result of this mental state influencing what I was subconsciously drawn to, several of these images are moodier than my work in the past, and they are my favorites from this section, as they portray how I felt during that part of the week well.
Cape Hatteras National Seashore, Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Cape Hatteras National Seashore, Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Cape Hatteras National Seashore, Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Lighthouse Road, Ocracoke, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Ocracoke Lighthouse, Ocracoke, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Stowe Family Cemetery, Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Hatteras Assembly of God, Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Hatteras Village Park, Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Hatteras Village Park, Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Hatteras Village Park, Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Sea Gull Motel, Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Oregon Inlet Lifesaving Station, Pea Island, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Whalebone Junction, Cape Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Whalebone Junction, Cape Hatteras, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Elizabethan Gardens, Manteo, Roanoke Island, North Carolina.
If I had waited until I was truly compelled to photograph, I would have taken less than half of what I shot up until Thursday evening, when Malia and I returned to Oregon Inlet on our way back from a little date day on Roanoke Island. The air was pregnant with the feeling of impending rain as we pulled into the parking lot, and we relished that sensation as we began walking along the edge of the rocks that border one side of the cove. After we had walked a nice ways out, I made my way down the rocks to the water, which was peaceful in spite of the oncoming storm. The resulting photo demonstrates the contrast between sky and sea well—dark clouds slash across the top of the composition, framing everything within their threatening aura, while the rocks scattered across the foreground seem totally rooted in the water, unlikely to move unless presented with the most dire circumstances. This image brings all of the elements of that moment together, and I'm glad that it does because I didn't have the chance to take many more; it began to absolutely pour on us soon after, and running to the car didn't save us from being totally drenched! One could say that we lost that game of chicken, but I think we won in the end, as the photos we both took ended up being some of our best from the week. I finished off this roll at a sound side access point close to Hatteras Village, and both shots there feel like the calm after the storm, serene in the evening light (even though one is of a dead bird). It took most of our time there, but I was finally beginning to find some scenes and moments that compelled me onwards, pushing me closer to the Ordered World once more.
Oregon Inlet, Pea Island, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Pamlico Sound, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Dead Bird—Pamlico Sound, Outer Banks, North Carolina.
Once upon a time, a photographer I followed on Instagram—Lucinda Guarderas—posted that she was looking to trade film for some Lomochrome Turquoise that she had extra rolls of. While I am not the biggest fan of wonky looking film types, she and others have made work with Turquoise that has impressed me, so I reached out to her and swapped some of my Kodak HIE for a couple rolls. Of course, I then proceeded to hang on to them for over a year, even giving one to Jesus for a project he was working on. By July, I decided to finally use my remaining roll at the beach, and I am super pleased with the results I got; the color shift to golden skies and aqua plants came out very nicely. I've titled these photos "Alien Skies" because of how the film recontextualizes the known environment into something new, another solution to my problem of being overly familiar with this area. The first photo in this sequence, of dunes with the ocean behind, is one I have taken every year we've stayed in this house (which has been several times), so I have photos stretching back to 2014, when I took an incredibly crappy shot on an old Nexus tablet. Since then I have taken better ones, but this version stands out for its unique color, as well as its clarity and sharpness. Although I don't have a use for these images within any ongoing project, at least not yet, it was fun to try to do something special as the week came to a close, and I am very happy with what I made with this film!
Alien Skies I—Hatteras, North Carolina.
Alien Skies II—Hatteras, North Carolina.
Alien Skies III—Hatteras, North Carolina.
Alien Skies IV—Hatteras, North Carolina.
I took the Alien Skies photos on Saturday, as our final day in the Outer Banks began to come to a close, and I felt alright using the Turquoise because I had chosen to stop worrying about whether I'd encounter anything compelling, giving me the freedom to play with the unique colors of this film. However, I have learned that I cannot control when I may be brought into communion with the Ordered World, and this is what happened that day as Mom, Malia, and I went out to the beach towards the end of the afternoon. As soon as we got there, I knew that I was seeing and feeling what Joel Myerowitz must have seen and felt during the shooting of his iconic work Cape Light, a transcendent lightness both literal and emotional that called me to action. I wanted to photograph the scene before me, but I still had half the roll of Turquoise in my camera, so I finished taking those shots quickly and loaded a roll of normal color film for the occasion. The next hour was the most joyous moment of the whole week for me, and I ecstatically took photos, splashed around in the waves with Malia and Mom, and just basked in the sunlight that shone brilliantly as we approached evening. This experience made all of the preceding struggle worth it—all the anxiety I had felt, all the times I had wanted to shoot but wasn't inspired, and all the moody emotions of the trip just melted away, leaving me face to face with the Ordered World once more. Would I still have enjoyed that evening if I had been more relaxed during the week? Sure, I would have! But coming into that moment not expecting anything, and with the pervasive sense that I had missed something important at some point, gave me even more of a high when it happened and I was granted the peace I longed for amongst the waves and clouds. With that said, then, I am taking some lessons from last year as I prepare for my trip back down to Hatteras this summer. I am going to remain open to the call to create, as I always strive to, but I am not going to worry if I don't feel it when I think I should. Just being there with the ones I love in a beautiful place should be enough for me, and I know that when I am supposed to photograph something I will hear the call and answer it! I am thankful for all my experiences with Transcendence last summer, especially the highs like this one, and I know that I carry all of these things, both the good and the bad, everywhere I go. I was almost finished with What My Left Hand Is Doing, and I had a feeling that I was going to end on a high note, something I confirmed that afternoon as I moved onwards to August and the first end of the project!
Late Afternoon, Hatteras, North Carolina.
Late Afternoon, Hatteras, North Carolina.
Late Afternoon, Hatteras, North Carolina.
Late Afternoon, Hatteras, North Carolina.
Late Afternoon, Hatteras, North Carolina.