Closing a Year-Long Project

Back on September 29, 2019, I had an idea for photographing my view from a window wherever I was physically located each morning when I woke.

At the time, I envisioned our excursions into the world as we knew it then. Short trips to New England towns, a stay a cabin in the woods, a trip overseas. A year of documenting seemed like a fun way to pass a year.

For most of the Fall and early Winter months of 2019, we were both busy with work-related responsibilities, so our trips became a trip to Boothbay at the end of leaf-peeping.

And then, 2020 happened.

Our last trip away from our condo in Lowell, MA turned out to be an overnight to a concert held at the Museum of Fine Arts at the beginning of March. We took the train into the City, had a wonderful time going to the Museum, stayed at the edge of the South End and returned the next day. It was the in-between time when the virus was just getting started in this country - or so we have been lead to believe.

We haven’t had a leisure trip since.

The visions of travel and waking up in different locations in the world - the way I envisioned this little project - is not the reality of 2020. Certainly we don’t feel as if a trip is in our immediate or long-range future. It is entirely possible that our return to a sense of normalcy will be altered in ways I cannot begin to imagine when we finally feel as if travel outside of our bubble is safe.

This all seems very strange.

I did keep on with my project though, even with the change in scope. As I cull through the 365 photos I did take every morning, mostly through the two giant banks of windows in our renovated mill building, the photographs will document changes over time throughout the seasons of 2019-2020. I believe the subtle changes and uniqueness of this year of years will be evident even though the vantage point does not change.

For now, however, I offer two photos: one at the project start (September 29, 2019) and one at the end (September 29, 2020).

Traveling in my discomfort zone

I have long admired people who can see things artistically in this world. To be able to capture a mood or  a moment and relay that feeling to another is, well, magical.A great-great uncle of mine was Alexander Wyant, a tonalist, whose work hangs in several museums. When I was in junior high school, it was the cool thing to learn to use oil paints in an after school program. I am afraid that one or two of those paintings may survive somewhere in an attic.This week, I entered two photographs in the Westford Regional Art Event, mostly to live in my zone of discomfort. I do not have any illusions of becoming a photographer - one per family is plenty and we actually have two: Adrien and my son Matt.Very few of my own photographs are ones that I would consider worthy of showing to anyone else. Maybe once a year I'll shoot something that I'm actually not embarassed to show. Making a decision to show two photographs was a giant leap outside of the zone in which I am most comfortable. While I don't harbor any illusions of giving up my day job, it was interesting, to say the least, to experience exposing the inner artist, to actually seek the opinion of another on a work so personal.Here are the two photographs that I entered in this years art exhibit (raw files, hence the chomatic abberations on the rope photograph): Living with a photographer has advantages: one is on-demand instruction and advice. Can you spot any of Adrien's recommendations in the composition of these two photographs?

Art Appreciation

My husband, Adrien, is a photographer. He actually has been a photographer for most of his life, having started out in high school, but was sidetracked by a career in music and in software.  A couple of years ago, he started renting studio space in a revitalized textile mill building in Lowell, MA, Western Avenue Studios, and has been building his photography business ever since.If you've never had a career in the arts, it is quite different from the 9 to 5 corporate world. First of all, as I am always fond of pointing out, unlike my career, you can use the bathroom whenever you want :-) Just kidding, Adrien!What really takes some perseverance is staying focused throughout the cyclical nature of getting commissions and jobs. For example, from the week before Christmas through some time in  late January, not many corporations are interested in scheduling corporate head shot appointments. This creates some down time, which allows Adrien to think about self assignments: photography projects that he works on to develop as a photographer and as an artist.In addition to working on a portfolio for an upcoming show at the Loading Dock Gallery in Lowell next November, Adrien has been working with a friend of his, Melissa, to create a video of what happens during a professional photo shoot. Here is a link to the stop-action video he created called 396 Square Feet. I think you'll find it amazing.