on making, 1

i always think about my pictures as something i'm making. especially with the process i've been most enamored with recently (pack/pull-apart film), it's a personal process.

i'm always shooting when it's cold outside and this particular film needs relatively warm temperatures to process properly so i expose my film, pull it through the rollers, and then i press the cold packet of developing chemicals to my chest to warm them and process the image. every part of what comes out as i pull apart the film is a product of what i've done. sometimes something has happened and the color is off. the emulsion is dripping. i checked part of the film too early.

once i pull apart the film it collects things from the environment. dust, sand, salt. all of this comes together to make the picture. 

the project i'm working on right now is a combination of new and old images. the old images aren't that old, they're all from this past year. but many of the images are a product of something that feels far away.

i recently ended a really important relationship and this project is full of pictures of that relationship. not of him but of other things. trips we went on. views out of windows. this project is largely about feeling, so it's appropriate that this is where these images surface. each of the images carry with them not just what is very apparently there but products of the moment in which they were produced. unevenly heated chemicals. bubbling emulsions. each one a tiny time capsule. 

these tiny imperfections are my favorite and least favorite thing about this process. i have a lot of control. i know my camera well, i know my film well. but there are things i can't control. sometimes the images i couldn't control are my favorite, but much of the time those are the ones i throw away. 

it's a constant battle between what i want and what i get, but i think i'm winning.