Hello.
It’s me again.
The darkness outside pushes me indoors. But the hot weather doesn’t want me in just yet. And, I just don’t want to study tomorrow’s lecture. Not yet. Heaven, and everything else can wait. So I do what any other human being would do: with eyes closed, I study my own mind; the noise outside fades into underwater chatter. Memories are nice. But not lasting. We don’t really know how this works, other than energized impulses actually changing our microscopic structure and theoretically forming cohesion of memories embedded with all sensations that occurred at that time. Time, in this context has no meaning, no time zone specifics, no timestamp you can bet your money on with confidence.
Do you like dogs?
I do. I am sorry if you don’t. But if you do, then that’s good, so we can continue this monologue. Our perception of passing time is based on various things, but all comes down to something measuring time, i.e., hours. Dogs, for example, they have a different non-conventional interpretation. The fact is, we don't know if they even have one. Olfactory and acoustic functions are highly evolved in our canine friends. And with that, a trace of a flower can stay for days at end after it passed through a room carried by a man or a woman. But what if that same perfume is carried on a drift of summer wind? The noise of rushing steps coming down the street two blocks away echoing at night or during midday, they are all the same, alerting an event before confronting with the eyes. The smell and noise, they all trigger events of some sort. But because they often are so far apart carried by sound, or wind, or none at all, perception of time is completely altered, if not could even be non existent. Perhaps, this explains why the so called “separation anxiety” seen in canine species is attributed to owners leaving them at home because of being late or trying to be on time, a concept completely illogical to a dog’s life.
But what if, we can too have long lasting memories? Would we care to stop and contemplate? Would it really make a difference to our inborn or thrusted upon desires to be on-time? I can’t really say if it would make a difference at all. I am not patronizing anyone, nor have I lost complete hope. It’s just not my place to make up stuff like this. But I do like photography. I hope you also like it, because what I am about to share with you has a lot to do with it. Old photographs have always impressed me. Have you noticed how old pictures surviving decades are so small and faded? Something about an old picture of such a tiny space, to convey such extraordinary range of emotions, it’s completely disproportionate and illogical. When I find such old pictures, as rare as it may sound, I often ask the person handing it to me to describe it to me, how it was taken, how was the life back then, who are the people in the photo, what happened after that, and you would be surprised how much time passes listening to such stories. But what if, the case stands that we don’t know who the owner was? That’s when we begin to use our own imagination and look for clues to pull us in, looking for familiar things. Unfortunately, if nothing captures our attention, it all goes to waste until another person finds it, and again the process recycles. Only when a connection ensues and there is no one there to tell the story, then it starts to make some sense.
Let us begin then.
This past weekend, I had some time off to myself, a completely rare event by itself. But, fortunately I had a great friend to inspire me do something amazing, something I have never done before. Well, not quite, I have taken photos before, but not ever dedicated a whole slew of them to anyone. Well, I did that actually, but it wasn’t for friends, it was because I was asked to do events, projects, etc. Bottom line, it’s a bit more complicated than that. Anyhow, by itself it is an event of an event. As you can see, it’s astronomic in proportions if you follow me. Well, never mind that now. The important thing is I had a plan, and my mind was already working on how to see it through. I tried paying attention, but I felt dizzy trying to keep up with it. Odd, I know. But, as one would say, “You make plans, and Gods laugh at you.” Eh, so they do. At least I am no comedian by trade.
PLAN.
Convey the story of the city I live as a form of gratitude. But, I prefer to take shots of people more than empty buildings, or empty parks, or empty benches, etc. Experience tells me, strangers don’t like to be photographed randomly. Even if one agrees to be photographed, a smile always takes shape, which to me, changes the whole perspective of story telling. I don’t want empty smiles, I don’t want fake emotions for the sake of a “hold it for the camera man” cliche. The next best thing to what I created here is being in a passenger seat. But will this be enough? We will have to wait and see.
Why the passenger seat you ask? Because, you try walking 600 square kilometers, and get back to me how that makes you feel -_-
Honestly, I don’t think I even covered half this surface area, but my speedometer recorded under 150 mi (240 km) the entire path I took using over 400 raw shots on one battery charge.
In true sense, I was afraid to be questioned by police. I was afraid to be mugged in public. I was afraid to get into an accident. I was afraid to be followed and chased down. And for that, I had to keep on moving. With window rolled down, my camera mount was on the passenger seat, but unfortunately it was silver colored. Nonetheless, it was a great time to be thankful the camera body and lens were completely black.
PURPOSE.
Memories are nice, but not long lasting. What if we can have long lasting memories? What would we do with them? I don’t know. I don’t honestly say I create memories. I do try to simulate the chance of making new ones. I know I am missing one important factor. The sound, perhaps, but most importantly, the smell, the temperature, the perspiration, the chatter, the periods of brief stopping as traffic lights let others drive across, and watch the pedestrians flow in their own rushed ways. And then, it begins again. And stops. Different people, following a similar routine. But different people with different things on their mind.
Every picture is rich in content, only we fail to connect in our own ways. By providing you with many opportunities, I only hope you have a lot more chances to connect with some of them.
FACT.
The slight convex dichromatic lens with mounted UV/polaroid filter captured as much light as possible, and the same goes for detail, and surface area, all without distorting the image to an ugly sphere. Control was accomplished via IR remote, therefore no successive shots of same image was ever possible. These images have rarely been cropped, to include as much detail as possible. Reviewing them, I noticed accidental perfect geometric perspectives. There is one shot with a runner caught between two huge flowery pots, right between them. Another shot of two equally spaced trees in the image split in half by a third. There are other images that show this tendency. I can’t explain how this happened. I simply drove by and pressed the remote when in the line of sight. Everything else was left to chance. Which, in fact, chance was the main purpose. Plan enough to leave everything else to chance. It must be the element of surprise or unawareness that counts. At least to me this does.
EPILOGUE.
I don’t know if my intention to convey the streets of Chicago reached the intended state of awareness. As a matter of fact, I don’t know if the few images selected here from the almost five hundred truly make the cut. One thing I know for sure, I will never know the answer. But, it isn’t what I want to know. It is the connection these may make with you. So try enjoying them. And, as my three years old niece would say, “Ok, I think that’s it.”
Special Notes:
My thanks for inspiration go whole heartedly to SymOna.
Recent Flickr Uploads:
Photo-stream Last Night.
