So I'm easing back slowly. I'm following the Trump nightmare, hoping for the best. I had a deadline this week—my Photokina article for the December issue of Photo Life magazine—and it was good to sink my teeth into something substantial. It also forced me to dive into the material I shot in Germany and Belgium, something I'd so far neglected due to recent circumstances. Some prefer to decant what they've captured, leaving some distance before tackling the editing process...I don't usually work that way. I don't mind coming back to a session at some point but I prefer immediacy, having the lingering echo of those images still floating around in my mind's eye. Otherwise it's like I'm flailing, without aim.
I want to thank everyone again for condolence, wishes and thoughts. We held the funeral last Saturday and as much as I dreaded the moment, there's a reason we come together when someone is lost: we're social animals, we need the circle. It's not the conventions or the placated, ready-made formulas...it's an underlying current we share. Something to lean on as we build our new reality.
But I didn't document any of it. Not this last ceremony, not the multiple "homes" or the hospitals. After 2012, there's no visual record of our mother through my eye. Which is understandable I guess but strange, at least for someone so vocal about preserving and capturing life as a whole. I've thought about it often, how on a certain level I was perhaps being hypocritical by keeping this ordeal invisible. I've documented traces—the family house, mostly—but I purposefully avoided my mom. Maybe it was a lack of courage. But I've never viewed photography as a rational, systematic method of understanding the world; it's always been based on impulse and instinct. And the truth is: I didn't feel like shooting any of it. It would've been artificial, forced. More hypocritical than abstaining from picking up the camera.
So this period of our lives will rely on chemicals and neurones. And I think that's probably fine.
We're headed to Maricourt for a very rainy weekend. It's Cynthia's birthday tomorrow—time to breathe again.
Have a great weekend guys.