I spent tonight rewatching the documentary What Remains about Sally Mann’s study of death and in the end, life. Isn’t it fascinating how she began that project with death and ends with life? I find her approach to work very inspiring. I like how she looks outside of the world of photography, in her case it seems most often to be writing, as ways to guide her progress and self evaluate, yet always turns inward. She works from the inside out which I think is how I’ve modeled my own work process. I’ve been thinking a lot about my own images over the last week, especially because when you have to give a presentation and in some way try to explain in words a completely visceral reaction to a site or scene, it demands a new kind of reflection, one that will hopefully in the end make some kind of sense.
I’ve been trying to describe what it is that I’m after in images, (what am I looking for?) in two sentences. I think for those who are working consistently and who have a distinct voice, there ends up being some common thread—and it is the photographer who is able to show that commonality in varying ways that fascinates and inspires me the most. I am humbly striving to be that photographer.
I’ve seen a lot of photographers describe their work as studies of the “dreamscape.” For me, my own images that might attract the label of “dreamscape” are really more about a fear of death, or about trying to imagine what, if anything, the experience of dying might be like. I fear death more than anything and I believe, if I had to describe my work, it would be about the process of searching, searching for what in the world will live far beyond me—trees, rivers, plants, stars. It might be that in my subconscious, I believe that by seeing these things, by really examining them in their varying forms, shapes, colors, and moods, I will remember them in death, and be comforted by it.
I do not have hardly any snapshots of friends or family up in my house. It’s strange because I’d never even noticed it until it was pointed out to me once. I realized that I don’t really like to photograph my friends or family very much. But I do have pictures of trees and other elements of the natural world up on the walls. I look at them quite a bit. I think it makes me sad to look at people, to know that someday, this friend, this parent, this lover won’t be here… and it’s too painful to be reminded of it. But the trees, plants and in some cases, buildings, will be, and so it’s safer for me, more peaceful to be around them, it’s ok for me to get attached to them because they’ll never leave.
I found out yesterday that next week I’ll be going to the theatre… not to see a show unfortunately, but for surgery. It’s not “emergency surgery,” but when I asked the doctor, “when does this need to happen?” her response was, “as soon as possible.” So, again, the thoughts of death persist. I’m scared. I’m not overrun with it, I don’t believe this is life threatening, but it’s a marker along the way to what will eventually be my end. Whether I will be up to giving the talk at Blue Sky is in question. The recovery time, I’m told, will vary between 1 week or 6 weeks, it all depends on how it goes. I’m in good hands, good surgeons so there is some comfort (I guess) in that.
This might be my only post for a bit so I thought I’d leave you with another image from a new body of work as yet untitled… See you all soon and pray for a good show.
© Lauren Henkin
