In our interior lives, how much of our personal aesthetics are born from people that came before us?
Nonna and Jeff’s. Durham. Tweet
I have been musing lately on the construction of home and what it says about the person doing the building of the interior of a house. I see the deliberate (and haphazard) placing of objects as a way to interrupt the inner life of the decorator.
The last time I was drove south, the kudzu was but just brown, hard vines curled like steel wire around telephone poles and trees.
com⋅fort [kuhm-fert] –verb (used with object) 1. to soothe, console, or reassure; bring cheer to: They tried to comfort her after her loss. 2. to make physically comfortable. –noun 4. relief in affliction; consolation; solace: Her presence was a comfort to him. 5. a feeling of relief or consolation: Her forgiveness afforded him great comfort. 6. a person or thing that gives consolation: She was a great comfort to him. 7. a cause or matter of relief or satisfaction: The patient’s recovery was a comfort to the doctor. 8. a... Read the Rest →
My thoughts on picture-making have shifted greatly over the last 12 months or so. School taught me to think about picture-making as a means to communicate some greater truth about your subject and relate to greater social issues. Coming home and working in a environment that is about picture making in another way, a way born solely out of aesthetic has made me re-evaluate what it means to pick up a camera. I work among those* who’s main purpose in making pictures is to make them fit into a mold... Read the Rest →
On my drive down, I couldn’t help but noticed the abundance of fantastic looking trees that populated the highway sides. My mouth slightly ajar, my foot heavy on the gas pedal my stomach empty and my bladder full, I wasn’t really up for doing sight seeing or slowing down to look at stuff. So I pushed on, well above the speed limit to get to my destination in a timely manner. That is, until I saw a magnolia tree. I unfortunately missed the blossoming of the trees probably by about... Read the Rest →
Secretly, I have always wanted to be a Southerner, one who is born from the South. Sadly, I was born above the Mason-Dixon line and don’t get to have such an honor but I figure I can always visit. Or live there as my stupid hopeful plans go for the next year or so. When I set out last Thursday for a 8 hour drive to Winston-Salem North Carolina, the sun was bright and the weather forecast was promising for the trip: 85 degree weather with clear skies. Car packed,... Read the Rest →