from my shoot with Alder.
This photo is shot on film and is printed on Foma MG Classic Matt (not really matt), OLD STOCK...I have a small amount of this paper left and am trying to use it judiciously. The staining process is something I thought of doing after seeing hundreds of crazy colors appear in photo paper after a day of being in the trash can at school!! I decided to control that process of staining and then stumbled upon this effect just because I had this particular kind of paper at hand.
I recently purchased a new box and the emulsion is not the same...very unfortunate, but that happens a lot these days. I mean, that products you love simply disappear or change. This piece is already framed in an antique octagon with domed glass. It looks awesome and is part of the Ghost Ships series.
I think I already have all the photos for that series and just need to go in an edit. I will be using photos from across about 15 years of shooting. I need a few new ones, too, of course. The one above is new.
the world, awash in light, blinds me.
and now: a heliointerference...an uncertain shimmer, a wavering iridescence.
my radio on crack, snapple, pop -a static blur of knitted brows and tightly pursed lips.
the world, awash in light, blinds me.
and there, in the distance, the wavering iridescence of heat off baked sand.
i am white linen and lavender oil
ribbons tied to my fingers fly like anchored kites in the desert wind.
i am not thirsty or hot, or tired or depleted.
h e r e
there, on the horizon where the air rises like mirrored mylar: a tiny form.
it wants me.
and perhaps for some deep seated need to be desired,
or because i am attracted to things i don't know and can't see...
maybe just because i'm a material girl and this is the only material for miles around,
or maybe as a result of some scientific necessity, i find myself levitating and gliding -like on rails- to the stain on the horizon line.
and now i wonder if, from its distance it sees me as i see it:
as a rupture in an otherwise sterile-white landscape.
ribbons now streaming behind me and linen pasted to my belly by sweat.
my approachment tells me this unimportant thing: the stain is only a wooden box (no wonder it looked like a stain) and there on its side, a series of chipped and faded gold leaf letters -the only ones i can read, say:
V I * T * O L *
i raise my hands, palm side up and ribbons are flying everywhere.
they are one with the wind,
they are knotted in my hair
they encircle my throat. and they wave in flaglike fashion around the box as it rises to waist level.
i reach down and lift the lid.
crow, crow, disc
crow, disc, crow
disc, crow, crow.
2(crow) + disc = box
"why are we here???"
the sound of my voice triggers a hidden Something and the disc begins spinning. crow(1) places her beak onto the spinning disc and it makes a weird, scratchy sound, and then crow(2) opens her mouth and says,
"why ARE we here?"
silently, i think "oh...so this is like a tape recorder." and say,
"testing, testing...ONE, TWO."
and the noisy crow looks at me dumbfounded while the silent crow lifts her beak from the disc and says, "OH GAWD!!! they sent us another CRI-A."
confused, i say, "what's a CRI-A?" and the silent crow replaces her beak onto the disc. and the noisy crow says,
"a CRI-A is a puppet, full of Empty and whales."
"oh...I am not full of Empty. and i am not full of whales...that doesn't even make sense...i mean, what would a whale be doing in the desert?"
"not WHALES, stupid...WAILS...W-A-I-L-S. and so i have a question for you: if you're not full of Empty, what are you full of?"
"i don't know how to say it...i guess...um...i guess i'm full of me."
"yeah, you're full of yourself, all right...fucking CRI-A."
"NO. you're wrong. i am this breath, this floating, beribboned spectre. it's because i opened you that you speak. without me, you're invisible at best. i see you; i hear you. i verify your existence. you ask me what i am full of? why not just ask me who i am? i'm a weaver. an alchemist. i am the thing that juggles light and silver, sand and sweat. i don't need you to validate me, so let's just say it this way,
and the noisy crow smiles at me and says,
"you are right; you are VITOL."
and her wings unfold and her skin cracks open and underneath the feathers and skin i see fur and flash of green. and the skin peels back and now black and brown and white and green as simon emerges from the crow's dessicated form. and now both crows vanish and it is me and simon and one deaf and dumb disc, spinning for no reason at all.
and simon says to me,
"we gotta get out of here...oh god...it's too late." and he is looking at my chest. i follow his gaze to to a rapidly growing stain upon my dress: red on white linen. but i say to him, "no, it's never too late." and i grab him and say, "where are we going?"
and the desert floor becomes as quicksand as we pass down and through it and wind up in a cavernous space i know so well. home. i put simon down and follow him the length of our torch illuminated corridor to my stone bedbroom. the linen dress is gone and i am whole. and we lay us down and we sleep.
FINALLY!! a photo shoot that I was actually able to do, to spend a bit of time exploring with, and that I enjoyed. What a great way to wrap up the summer!
My friend, Alder, let me into a building in Vancouver. Her partner, Joey, says they are not going to destroy the building but will maintain its beauty much the way it was originally intended. Gosh, I sure hope so...I'm pretty dismayed by all the old buildings that are being demolished in Portland, and this one is just gorgeous. Anyhow, here are some shots that show what that space is like. In a couple of weeks Alder said she would do a shoot up there with me!
math made simple:
pearl + coffee = bird
dektol + tulip = coffee
pearl + dektol + tulip = bird
bird - tulip = dektol + pearl
dektol + pearl = nest
the nest is in the bird. it is a matter of biological determinism. inevitable...immutable. please don't ask me about the egg.
in the first place and
in the last.