Lauren Henkin Blog

One of the issues I struggle with in my life is being open. I think it stems from a fear of being judged, that in knowing the real me, I will be found lacking in some capacity and abandoned. It’s something I’ve tried to work through, a lack of faith in anything that would endure.

It is one of the reasons I wanted to become an architect. I thought that in imagining these built forms, I was creating something that would remain, something I could construct that would stand long after I was gone. It is also the reason why I’m so drawn to photographing the natural world, especially near urban areas. Repeatedly, the subjects that I find engaging are the ones that survive in an environment meant to exterminate as a way to answer the questions I continually grapple with: What is permanent? Will anything last?

I became obsessed with this tree’s form and I photographed it more intensely than any subject I have ever focused on. It was alone, with its scars unclothed, threatened by vines, but still standing. I was moved by its quiet beauty and strength, within it a humble model of perseverance and survival.

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 1

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 2

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 3

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 4

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 5

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 6

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 7

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 8

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 9

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 10

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 11

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 12

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 13

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 14

© Lauren Henkin. Still Standing, Standing Still 15

Sunday was the last day of my residency at Newspace Center for Photography. I had planned on working on Coexistence during my month there, but I quickly became diverted by an idea for another portfolio that I mentioned in a previous post about the Raymond Meeks workshop I took about a month ago.

This new portfolio, titled Still Standing, Standing Still, was a project that developed out of a love at first sight experience with a single tree located about 30 minutes outside of Portland. If you have seen my earlier work, you may recognize what I now see as my purpose in photographing — to address the questions What, if anything, is permanent? Are the things we own what define us or is it the relationships we have? What enables us to survive the disappointments and heartaches?

I spent this month in particular pondering those questions and coping with an ongoing mistrust of people. The experience of photographing this lone tree has helped on all fronts. And maybe by surrounding myself with others (human or not) that face similar struggles is all I need to manage the anxiety. I was inspired at this place, by this thing, that can’t converse or provide affection, but can still give.

Thank you Newspace for allowing me the opportunity to use your facilities and the excuse to push my eyes into looking closer and extracting the beauty around us that is ever-present.

I am only showing 1 image from this work right now, but will post more shortly.

Here is what I have written for this portfolio:

Still Standing, Standing Still
One of the issues I struggle with in my life is being open. I think it stems from a fear of being judged, that in knowing the real me, I will be found lacking in some capacity and abandoned. It’s something I’ve tried to work through, a lack of faith in anything that would endure.

It is one of the reasons I wanted to become an architect. I thought that in imagining these built forms, I was creating something that would remain, something I could construct that would stand long after I was gone. It is also the reason why I’m so drawn to photographing the natural world, especially near urban areas. Repeatedly, the subjects that I find engaging are the ones that survive in an environment meant to exterminate as a way to answer the questions I continually grapple with: What is permanent? Will anything last?

I became obsessed with this tree’s form and I photographed it more intensely that any single subject I have ever focused on. It was alone, with its scars unclothed, threatened by vines, but still standing. I was moved by its quiet beauty and strength, within it a humble model of perseverance and survival.

Still Standing, Standing Still #15, © Lauren Henkin.