Centered

Volume Two, Issue 9

Index

Several years ago, I exhibited some paintings as part of a group show. That was successful enough, emotionally if not financially, that I agreed to show more work as part of an ongoing rotation for a local cafe. Eventually, I changed jobs and moved towns and more-or-less stopped painting¹. But, as I reach the final third of this project, I've started to consider what comes next.

Back in college, I assisted a photography professor with a few projects. At his urging, I displayed a few photos in the halls around school and received some positive feedback from peers and professors alike. And yet, I walked out of college with a minor in photography and not much of a portfolio to show for it.

My portfolio consisted of two dozen "good" photos selected from the thousands I had taken, each one representing a skill or technique I had learned. See how the lights reflect the model's eyes in this portrait? Notice how the chocolates look shiny and appetizing in this advertising shot? Or how this scenic shot follows the rule-of-thirds so closely you could use it for a ruler? But theme? What theme?

Successful photographers² tend to find a niche and then stick to it. Well. Not really, but that's how it seems from the outside. What really happens is that photographers, like any other artist, gravitate towards the same themes and expression of ideas over and over. They may stray from the path every once in a while but their inner vision will bring them back true sooner or later. That said, they often exhibit to a central thesis.

Over the past two months I've been amassing a neat little collection of photos. Should I make it to the end of the project, there will be a full 92³ photos plus a double-handful of outtakes and bonus shots. And, you could argue that that is the theme: summer in Japan around my town in the year 2022. Sure, why not?

I don't have a good answer to that. Or, rather, I don't have an answer that is not a thinly disguised excuse for fear and anxiety to center themselves in my thinking, to let myself limit my options through overthinking and overanalyzing every decision until paralysis becomes the only option left.

This project, both the photos and the writing about them, has become far more important to me than I had anticipated. So much so that I'm not willing to let the project fade away into just another handful of bits on a desolate URL. And so, in as much as this project's design deliberately forced me to get outside and move around and see things again, I'm thinking of the future and what form it will take once it's concluded.

Here are this week's notes:

• 26 August 2022 - "Vessels" - Mashiko is this brilliant little town out in the middle of nowhere that has been making ceramics for centuries; they've managed to find a nice balance between being a working town and a tourist stop. You can tour the workrooms and kilns, try your hand at making your own pottery, or just have a decent meal.

• 27 August 2022 - "Windbreak" - The town I live in is built on two elevations, the higher mesa and the lower valley. Every slope from the former to the latter is heavily fortified with trees to prevent erosion and mudslides. Which is a lot nicer than the concrete forms they use on the highways.

• 28 August 2022 - "Light Power" - As much as I love taking pictures of the power lines, I hope I won't be able to all that much longer. The bigger cities near me have all been implementing programs to bury their power and communication lines over the past twenty years and, honestly, it makes them look much, much nicer.

• 29 August 2022 - "Tunnel" - I really love this one. Especially the colors. What it is is a hollow sculpture built alongside the train tracks as you approach the station from the the northeast. It's taken a minute or two (like 15 years) for the plants to begin to fill in the hollow spaces and, right now at the end of summer, it's all looking a bit unkempt, but it is really nice to be in the shade beneath on a hot day.

• 30 August 2022 - "Rearview Mirror" - I took a picture of this same car back in July, but this is a much better photo in that you can tell it's a car without me having to tell you. That said, the fact that someone took some time to clear away some of the scrub brush around the outside makes me wonder what's going on.

• 31 August 2022 - "Drainage" - The community center in my little town is constantly undergoing repairs. Which means that if you stand in the center, you can start off looking at a brand new, clean, well-kept area and by the time you've made a 360 degree turn, you'll have ended up at the most derelict and worn out part of the lot. It's jarring.

• 1 September 2022 - "Irrigation" - Most of the irrigation canals around my neighborhood are small, barely moving things that pose no danger to anything larger than a medium-sized frog. This one, however, is actually a small hazard, especially when the water is up, as it is in this photo. It's not all that deep, but it's fast and cold. Fortunately, it'll all be out in the fields within the week, helping the rice to grow.

For more information, to join in, or just to support the project, please follow any of the links below. Thank you.

1. I'm going to get back to it one of these days, I swear.

2. By very limited definitions of success.

3. Because I can't actually do math.