Odds & Ends - Rolls 139-143
Looking back at the end of November 2023, more than a year ago, I can see that I was beginning to hit a certain roadblock of burnout in my project. Having shot around the same number of rolls in a two-month span as I did during the first six months of the year, this was probably inevitable. Despite how I wanted to feel, I can now observe clearly that this burnout was affecting me throughout November, leading to—as I discussed in my first blog about this time period—more missed shots than I wanted to have, and a general feeling that I wasn't as locked in as I was during my glorious October streak. Of course, as I also said in that post, I am still thankful for my experiences and that I kept deciding to go out and photograph, and I did end up with a nice handful of solid photos that I'm proud of. As the month came to a close, so also ended my most feverishly productive period of What My Left Hand is Doing, but not without me first finding a few more strong images!
As the last week of November began, my thoughts kept returning to a certain sign on South Michigan Street that I had seen while photographing there that weekend. This sign—for a Paramount Family Diner that no longer exists—was quite compelling to me, and I had made a couple exposures there during my walk around the area. Unfortunately, when I processed the film on Monday, those photos didn't convey what I wanted them to and I felt the urge to return, which I did on Wednesday, spurred on by our first real snowfall of the season, although it had almost entirely melted before I even left for lunch. Perhaps inspired by the notion of returning for the third time to this location, I first went to another area I know well, on Lincolnway West, and took my second photo of The Able Tree Doctor, a local repair shop that I first captured the previous year during the first snow of the fall. Where in that shot the whole sign is visible, here a van obscures the first words, helping make a case for why this version was necessary to make. Also distinct are the new yellow signs for the Firewood Factory, which used to be all red and white like the one on the furthest left. The bright and sunny day brings the yellow of those signs into strong contrast with the blue sky, and overall I can conclude that I took a worthy followup to that first photo, demonstrating my strong familiarity with this area through documenting its changes. Satisfied with what I'd done, I headed onward to South Michigan Street, happy to be on my way towards retaking that shot as well.
The Able Tree Doctor—South Bend, Indiana.
I didn't get it! Well, I took the photo, two of them actually, and they should have been perfect. The train was passing overhead, everything was beautiful, and yet—one photo has some camera shake, while the other has an annoying light leak that doesn't add to the photo. I think that both Jesus and Malia will say that the shots are still good, but they don't quite do it for me. As a result of this failure, though, I probably crossed over into the wrong side of obsessive with this particular subject, as that evening after work I went out once again to this spot in order to take the definitive version of the photo. As I had done earlier, I first swung by the Able Tree Doctor, retaking a different shot there that I had missed on my first roll of the day. Here I used my tripod and cable release to ensure I had no focus issues, and the resultant image is what I wanted it to be. In my other trips here I had ignored this large Firewood Factory sign in favor of the ones on the fence, but now I centered it in my composition, building the scene around the subject like I often do. The glow of the setting sun added a sense of finality, of things ending—apropos for a photo taken at the end of a month—and I headed downtown, finally ready to perfectly document the diner sign once and for all.
Lincolnway West, South Bend, Indiana.
I keep building up the hype around this photo that I tried taking no less than three different times, but unfortunately the end of the story is rather anticlimactic. I did make it to that spot, did use most of the roll shooting the sign from every possible angle, with the most careful attention given to my technique to make it perfect. And the images I got were technically well done! But they still didn't satisfy me, and I have concluded that I was so obsessive in trying to take this photo that I lost the magic of the moment, giving up the peace and clarity of the Ordered World for an attempt at perfection. This was a hard lesson for me, and I have wanted to go back and try again, but I decided that I have to eat the loss and take it as a learning experience, allowing it to show me what happens when I lose focus on what matters most in my art. I may try to retake that photo one day, but for now it's only right for me to let it go, as Kendrick said. With that story over, though, I have to say that I was blessed to have a good moment as I finished the roll. Having taken as many photos of the sign as I could, but with a couple shots still left, I looked around for anything else that compelled me to capture it. Looking across the street, I noticed a nice evening glow in the sky behind a grid of power lines and telephone poles, a subject I return to frequently. It was easy to compose—I simply centered the main three telephone poles in the middle of my frame, and the rest sorted itself out. I am very happy with this photo, doubly so that I found a vision of peace and order after my frantic day spent taking a lot of shots that I didn't even like in the end. This experience reminded me that it is ok to fail, that sometimes I'm not going to get the photo, but that I can bounce back by refocusing myself on the Ordered World and my place within it. It feels right to me that I took this photo at that time, bringing that hectic month to a close with a moment of grace and serenity.
Untitled.
I always talk about months as if they are more than just an arbitrary delineation of time, but that's ultimately all they are—that weekend, the first of December, I found myself right back at it, taking time on both Saturday and Sunday to go photographing again. I don't remember what it was that made me want to go out so soon—although likely enough it was the creeping fear of an impending crash in my creative energy—but I did find a few more subjects and shots that represent the Ordered World well. The first is simply a tree, covered in ivy, which I used to frame the suburban background of houses and a fence. One of the through-lines in my recent work has been a fascination with branches, and I think this photo demonstrates why I find them compelling. The dark branches, overhanging the scene, recontextualize the buildings and bring a slightly wild aesthetic to what is otherwise a totally man-made order. Really, the tree is also man-made, surely allowed to be in this front yard due to someone's choice to fit it into their vision of this space. Still, though, the vibe I get from this image is one of man vs nature—we can't control everything, and to me there is a strong contrast between these different elements, a tension between the tree and the houses that makes the photo strong!
Wilson Avenue, South Bend, Indiana.
The other three photos from that weekend are all from Elkhart, where I made the dubiously smart decision to photograph in the rain. I honestly hate photographing in the rain, especially having to keep a close eye on the lens to keep it dry, but these images are worth it. In the first, I utilized power lines and a cluster of poles in the foreground to divide up the composition, while one car on each side balances out the scene. I also enjoy the 820 Antiques sign which matches the Sunrise Family Restaurant sign, adding another visually interesting pairing. In the second shot, I chose a straight-on view of a building down the street; here, it's the clutter of trash under the awning, particularly the Starry bottle, that makes the photo work for me. Not unlike the soup kitchen entrance from my previous post, the implied presence of people enlivens what otherwise might be a geometric and boring image. Finally, in my last photo, I took what could have been a directionless, wide-open composition and lined up the different poles (short yellow ones and tall streetlights) so that they lead the viewer's eye through the photo to the background, where shipping crates and a basketball hoop stand out amidst the houses and street. Looking at these three shots at once, I like that I made different framing choices in each one, yet they come together well to form a cohesive image of that one area. Even during my mounting burnout, I was able to document this place satisfactorily, showing that I wasn't quite done yet!
West Beardsley Avenue, Elkhart, Indiana.
1125 W. Beardsley, Elkhart, Indiana.
Elkhart, Indiana.
Throughout the shooting experiences I have discussed in this blog post, one factor united them all: each time, I felt the innate urge to try to photograph, rather than being compelled by certain conditions or changes in the light to take my camera out. This is perfectly fine, and I'm glad that I made the effort, but this made it even more refreshing when, about a week later, I was driving home to Berrien Springs when the light—this weird purplish sunset light—stunned me and caused me to pull over in town to see what I could find. Ironically, the first photo I took here was the best and only one I liked—I nailed it on my first try! My subject was the Beijin Palace sign, bright in the approaching dark. The neon red of the sign contrasts well with the green wreaths on the lampposts, signifying that Christmas was soon at hand. The rest of the street is interesting too, with more signs for local businesses and the motion of passing cars driving home the fact that this was indeed the holiday season, busy and chaotic. The photo itself feels calm, however, one more part of the Ordered World that I constantly seek. I am thankful for all the experiences I talk about, but especially for times like this, when I'm called out to photograph something that is more than just visible, something I can feel in the air. This is the essence of my art, and I'm glad whenever I can have these moments!
Beijin Palace, Berrien Springs, Michigan.