Following the third year of a holiday letter comprised
of my (increasingly complex) life via a (increasingly complex) year-in-photographs, I
wondered what it would be like to join the great experiment of 365 days of photographs.
I'm not a photographer,
I'm a writer. I'm a visual thinker, and if ever there was proof that a photo is worth a
thousand words, it would be the story a photo tells me, or in this case, about me.
Follow me on this adventure, where I
learn about photography, my ability to record my life, my dedication to something (I've
never been known for doing anything everyday) in my posts. I've also discovered I'm
learning about time, the history of it, and the odd practice of recording it, measuring it,
turning it into something tangible, and I'll record these explorations in the sidebar.
As always, feel free
to say anything. My experiment is not a spectator sport.

June 23, 2009

June 23 2009 Unmown, Untamed Prairie*

I taught a lesson on something my 12th grade English Teacher called "Ransom Poetry." The assignment: to chop up publications and make a poem on a piece of paper. I worked for hours, with my sister's help, deep into the night hunting down the right words to make the poem flow, to make the phrases connect, to communicate. I returned to class to be met with gaping jaws as mine went on the wall next to creations of fifteen related words, or unrelated words, on a central theme. Mine was a poem. Theirs, barely an effort. Am I an overachiever, or an artist? I did exactly what was asked of me. My piece was, as I later learned, performative in that it was self-referential. It talked about itself. It was about hacking a magazine into pieces and creating something from others' words and phrases.

A late start to the morning but I am ready for study. I prepare a stack of magazines for my babysitter and children for the morning, for "destroying" as my son calls it, and three envelopes with each of their names for their findings. They only got to go through the ones I have already conquered, though. I'm collecting designs, words, and other sundries. Mine are too numerous for a folder; I use a briefcase. The designs are for projects, mostly of the knitting sort. The words are the most important, though, they are for writing with. I haven't been writing much lately, but not for lack of trying. Except, of course, for this.

Stand back+zoom+flash on Auto.

* You will not find this reference. This is a quote from my own piece, discussed above. Maybe one day it will be Googleable. Maybe one day I won't just be a nocturnal overachiever. You could try to name the ad, though, that I hacked it from. Think, 1998.

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