I have increasingly mixed feelings about the prospect of good light and blue skies on Sundays. (Sundays are the best day for sneaking into construction sites as most are either closed or else have minimal numbers of workmen around.) But with the sense of anticipation at the opportunity to take photographs is the churning, scrunched up feeling that accompanies it that is to do with trespassing and the anxiety of confrontation. I'm not sure what would happen. Not knowing is always a generator of discomfort. As is the thought of physical manhandling.
I recognise that trespass is a highly appropriate motif as a male who cross-dresses and have become more aware that the nervousness about going to shoot landscapes somewhere I'm not meant to be is remarkably similar to when putting on a skirt or dress and preparing to go out somewhere. It is similar also in having to dig deep and come up with some determinaton to overcome that and just go ahead and risk it anyway, which is invigorating. Life's too short not to, etc..
That this depiction of landscape in flux embodies feelings about transformation is complicated by the ideas it invokes more deeply as I analyse it further. The back story has come to include contemplating my parents lives in various ways and thoughts about their relationship to land. The last shoot was infused with a sense of connection to them that was perceived as scorching as the unexpectedly intense February sun. It was another kind of emotional churn, also bittersweet in the sense of experiencing them vividly as if they were alive again, but also exposed to that view of our lives being a twinkling interlude of consciousness. In the long view a fleeting lifetime is not much more than the brief click of a camera shutter when our senses are exposed, and we are just a single frame stumbling momentarily out of darkness.
I recognise that trespass is a highly appropriate motif as a male who cross-dresses and have become more aware that the nervousness about going to shoot landscapes somewhere I'm not meant to be is remarkably similar to when putting on a skirt or dress and preparing to go out somewhere. It is similar also in having to dig deep and come up with some determinaton to overcome that and just go ahead and risk it anyway, which is invigorating. Life's too short not to, etc..
That this depiction of landscape in flux embodies feelings about transformation is complicated by the ideas it invokes more deeply as I analyse it further. The back story has come to include contemplating my parents lives in various ways and thoughts about their relationship to land. The last shoot was infused with a sense of connection to them that was perceived as scorching as the unexpectedly intense February sun. It was another kind of emotional churn, also bittersweet in the sense of experiencing them vividly as if they were alive again, but also exposed to that view of our lives being a twinkling interlude of consciousness. In the long view a fleeting lifetime is not much more than the brief click of a camera shutter when our senses are exposed, and we are just a single frame stumbling momentarily out of darkness.