Seeing With New Eyes in The Place I Take For Granted
Through The Lens: Wednesday Night at Camp Alameda
Todd and I made up the name "Camp Alameda" some time at the start of our co-habitation, three years ago. The name embodied exactly what we wanted: a fun, silly place to exist; a place for collaboration, and friendship.
I take a long drag of a joint. A small seed of wistfulness sprouts within me. In the solitude of my apartment, my deeper self is revealed. The plant grows, and I simply observe. The longing does not pain me. I think about what our space will look like empty, two months from now. I slip my headphones on.
I breathe deeply.
Once more.
And again.
In the spaces you are most accustomed to, sometimes you forget to really see what is around you. I silenced my mind. I let my eyes wander. There I was, standing in the middle of my apartment, looking around as if everything were novel again. There on the wall, photographs encased in glass. New plants, growing by the big window. Colored light spills onto every white surface.
My first impulse was to find my camera. I wanted to capture the intensity of true presence I felt.
Portraits of My Home
I played around with the colors in this one. It was fun.
I can feel your melancholy of leaving a place. But don't worry, it won't be empty for long. Plants keep growing and spiders keep spinning their web. They might miss your tunes though...
Yeah. It's actually been super amazing to have the space to myself. I've just been so motivated with my projects that the small moments of reflection weigh a bit more! Thank you for reading, @stortebeker.