I've been thinking about what is lost when you archive. What narratives are formed, and what you learn from even the photographs you've taken yourself. I sometimes think I've photographed something that was right in front of me a million times, never noticing what later becomes totally apparent. I've been photographing my husband since we met. When I look back on some of these photographs I can see the evolution of my own feeling...it says less about his identity than it does about my own. Perhaps that's why I photograph my family so consistently...it becomes an archive of my own experience, that I'm unable to articulate in a document or a photograph of myself.
1 comments:
Erin, I really liked this post. The photos of Caleb are lovely and what you had to say about them was thought provoking.
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