A few months ago, Jeanne and I hiked up the rock outcroppings on the property and made some dry collodion negatives. I remember the morning well. The silence is what stands out in my mind. It’s a beautiful thing. That’s what I remember about making this negative. It was a 6-minute exposure. During that time, it was complete silence. Think about that time passing and the light hitting the plate. How do those things reveal themselves in the image? Can you see time in a photograph? It’s like an infinite regress, a mind-bender for sure. I just stood there, listened to the trees rustle in the breeze, and watched the birds fly around. I was thinking about time, light, and silence. I like Jackson Browne’s lyrics (Looking East), “there is power in the silence.”
When you experience things like this, you want to shout it to the world! You want to tell people to re-evaluate how they think about their lives. I know I was in the “rat race” for a long time. I also said it didn’t matter who won the race, they were still a rat ;-) We seem to have lost our connection to nature. I understand now what Henry David Thoreau meant when he said, “If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.”
Plate #14 Whole plate (masked) toned cyanotype from a dry collodion negative.
The Tabeguache respected these large rock formations. The legend of Grandfather Rock is based on the understanding that the rocks are grandfathers—animate beings with memories and stories to share with those who are able to hear ancestral voices. The legend speaks to the respect held for rocks. One version goes something like this: In the beginning, everything existed only in spirit form. These spirits moved around, hoping to find a place where they could stay and show themselves. When they reached the sun, they knew it was too hot. Finally, they came upon Earth, but it was covered with water and there were no life forms. Suddenly, a great burning rock broke the surface of the water, and it began to dry out the land. This rock is called Grandfather Rock because it is the oldest of all the rocks. Rocks must be respected because of this.
Maybe it’s my age and my life experiences; I’m not sure. I do know that I’ve gone through a lot of (psychological) changes in the past few years. Living in the mountains, close to nature, has changed me. I mentioned in another post recently how my goals and desires have changed. The world and its offerings are less appealing to me now than ever. I feel myself quietly and happily sliding into the background and then out of sight. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
We’ve been fortunate to have traveled and lived around the world; the U.S., Mexico, Canada, Europe, and Asia. I’m very grateful and very happy to have had that opportunity. It taught me so much about life. I got to meet some amazing human beings too. Experiencing all of that got it out of my system, so to speak. I want to stay close to home now. I want to sit on the deck and do nothing. Well, maybe drink some coffee and watch the wildlife. I like the solitude. I love the peace and quiet. I just love the life we have here. It’s what I wish everyone could have.
As I go through my negatives from the past year, I start thinking about where I was when I started this project and where I am now. I’ve made some progress. I feel comfortable about it and I’m excited about the next year of making plates, printing, and learning about how to tell this story and convey these ideas.
Change is a constant. When I’m working on a project like this, I try my best to embrace change. Most of the time, it brings a better answer to the question or problem at hand. I try to stay open, learn more, and experience as much as I can while making these photographs. I want to have fun and enjoy the process too. I already have some great memories in just a year of work. Seeing what works, and moreover, what doesn't, helps me to stay on track or make the appropriate navigational changes I need to make. That’s a good thing, and I’m grateful for it.
Plate #14 Whole plate (masked) toned cyanotype from a dry collodion negative - (matted)
I’m not sure when this project will be completed. I’ll know when I see it. I have a rough outline of what I want to accomplish. After that, I’ll evaluate the work and see where I am. I can say with some confidence that I have another year on it, maybe longer. I’m looking forward to the winter plates. It’ll be here before I know it.
“The more I know, the more I realize I know nothing.” - Socrates