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now
memory contiguous constructions boundaries biography being |
I’m interested in memory and how it informs our daily lives. Even in some of the most innocuous moments it draws the past into the present. But memory is selective and layered and illusive. It’s porous and protective, its essence asynchronous—releasing itself on its own timeline, on its own terms, often inserting itself unbidden. (Do we even notice it’s there?) And if memory is ever-present, what does that mean now is? Is time sovereign? (Does it matter?) And so, what, exactly, is reality?
Some say the emergence of Photoshop enables us to now irrefutably point to the unreliability of the photograph as the purveyor of truth or reality. I understand the position. But reality itself is a composite. Probably truth too. Humans certainly are.
Digital photo compositions are a way for me to grow closer to the promise of capturing and conveying reality—exploring what lies under the surface of an experience, and at its borders. Pulling on thoughts and perceptions and memories to explore how these elements coexist and interact within one moment, I think I can get at a more complete representation of what seems to be a single experience.
Reality is a subjective space—it’s a psychological thing, and dialogical. It’s also a somatic thing, and a semiotic one—its interiority shaping its experience and its interpretation.
This is an ongoing and unfinished project. It’s called, Reality—the making of it. These are a few of the pieces so far.
Some say the emergence of Photoshop enables us to now irrefutably point to the unreliability of the photograph as the purveyor of truth or reality. I understand the position. But reality itself is a composite. Probably truth too. Humans certainly are.
Digital photo compositions are a way for me to grow closer to the promise of capturing and conveying reality—exploring what lies under the surface of an experience, and at its borders. Pulling on thoughts and perceptions and memories to explore how these elements coexist and interact within one moment, I think I can get at a more complete representation of what seems to be a single experience.
Reality is a subjective space—it’s a psychological thing, and dialogical. It’s also a somatic thing, and a semiotic one—its interiority shaping its experience and its interpretation.
This is an ongoing and unfinished project. It’s called, Reality—the making of it. These are a few of the pieces so far.
me'an Simone
NB: I used to always say me’an Simone, and Grammy would then correct me, gently chiding as she inquired as to why I would want to call my friend “mean”.
Reality
My Selfie - What is it?
How do I take a selfie? As the term suggests, it is of the self, so don’t I then need to know what self is, or where it is? How do I find it, and how do I know when I have?
In an effort to locate my self for the selfie, does my search involve looking for what’s made this self, what’s informed it up to this point: where I’ve been, where I come from, what I do, what I don’t (or did and didn’t), who’s been there along the way and now—what counts, and what’s cut out?
What does self encompass? What’s the formative stuff that matters? Can I even know this? There’s the obvious stuff, and what I believe is significant, but there’s also all the subterranean stuff that I’m not aware of—all those known unknowns, and the unknown unknowns. Does that count?
And what about what’s to come? All the stuff self has put in motion that has yet to happen? What I want and hope for, where I want to go and be—is all that part if self too?
How do I take a selfie? As the term suggests, it is of the self, so don’t I then need to know what self is, or where it is? How do I find it, and how do I know when I have?
In an effort to locate my self for the selfie, does my search involve looking for what’s made this self, what’s informed it up to this point: where I’ve been, where I come from, what I do, what I don’t (or did and didn’t), who’s been there along the way and now—what counts, and what’s cut out?
What does self encompass? What’s the formative stuff that matters? Can I even know this? There’s the obvious stuff, and what I believe is significant, but there’s also all the subterranean stuff that I’m not aware of—all those known unknowns, and the unknown unknowns. Does that count?
And what about what’s to come? All the stuff self has put in motion that has yet to happen? What I want and hope for, where I want to go and be—is all that part if self too?
