WEEK TWELVE.

March 30, 2025

project 52 / week 12 / a quiet photo

WEEK ELEVEN.

March 23, 2025

project 52 / week 11 / memories & prized possessions

In my house, lives a box
In this box, lives:
Every terrible thing I wish I didn’t remember
Every wonderful thing I hope I don’t forget
Every broken piece in every last chapter
In this box, lives the essence of who I am.

a short poem for broken pieces

In my chest, lives a box
Where I keep all the things I don’t want anyone to see
I’ve buried it deep
Sometimes I, even forget it’s there
I want to take it out, but my heart has grown around it
Sealed it in —
Forever a part of me
I don’t like that
I don’t like it

What if one day, the hidden things, want out —
What if they scrape and claw —
And rage against the sides until they’re blown wide open
And all that I’ve hidden, escapes
Leaking into the rest of me
Like an unstoppable infection
Pushing, pulsing, past my heart
Riding along my veins
Within my blood
To my mind
And seeps out through all the broken pieces

WEEK TEN.

March 16, 2025

a total lunar eclipse

project 52 / week 10 / collage two photos together (not double exposure)

WEEK NINE.

March 9, 2025

project 52 / week 9 / transitions in light

…
I’ve become predictable.
This prompt didn’t lend itself to well to a narrative.
But from Saturday’s moon to Sunday’s moon a lot of light transitioned.

I’ll see you next week.

WEEK EIGHT.

March 2, 2025

project 52 / week 8 / on repeat

…
I mean, obviously, this is on repeat.

I’ll see you next week.

WEEK SEVEN.

February 23, 2025

project 52 / week 7 / book

…
I really don’t like it again but I need to move on with the day.

I’ll see you next week.

WEEK SIX.

February 15, 2025

project 52 / week 6 / metaphor

This, is not that. It is only chance, the similarities of a metaphor.
Two things happened at the same time and I don’t know what to do about it...
So, I’m just going to leave it be.

I’ll see you next week.

WEEK FIVE.

February 8, 2025

project 52 / week 5 / sideways

When you think you’re all out of stories. Turn it sideways.

5/52/2025 // *she ain’t got nuthin’ at all*

I really don’t care what you think about it. Not in a mean way, I just don’t.
It’s exactly what I want it to be.

song: oh! sweet nuthin’ - the velvet underground

I’ll see you next week.

WEEK THREE. WEEK FOUR.

February 2, 2025

project 52 / week 4 / vintage

I got down with the sickness. So I had other plans for week four of fifty-two. Perhaps one of these fifty-two will say “A Do-Over” and I’ll get a second chance. Project 52 is unique in that it never ends up being what I think it will be. Even with all my scheming. Harder than 365 in a way. I’m not sure if I got the narrative this week or not but it’s vintage enough for me. I even threw it back to week two with a little noise.

project 52 / week 3 / monsters under the bed

I’ll see you next week.

WEEK TWO.

January 18, 2025

project 52 / week 2 / grain or noise

2/52/2025 // *there’s something in the static*

2/52/2025 // *there’s something in the static, I think I've been having revelations*

I don’t hate it. I just don’t like it at all,

and it’s terrible.

song: not strong enough by boygenius

I’ll see you next week.

CHASING THE SKY

January 16, 2025

I thought I missed it.

I thought I chose wrong.

It’s a brand new chapter.

A new chapter of breathing in fire.

WEEK ONE.

January 11, 2025

project 52 / week 1 / capture what photography means to you

1/52/2025 // *& every day i wake, i tell myself a little harmless lie: the whole wide world is mine*

So here we go again. Project 52. 52 weeks, 52 prompts, 52 photographs. But I can’t seem to just take one. If you’ve been around, you know I love AVA. That I love space, stars, planets, the moon, etc. etc. When I got this prompt, I immediately did the shoulder sag, head down, ljf stance of doom and dread: “that’s like the hardest one.” I got the prompt from a former student and she knew exactly what she was setting me up for. I did not know. At the time she told me, I didn’t know what I would create. So I let it marinate. I had a lot of time to think. Secret #83: My favorite thinking place is the car.

I had many drives from the end of the 2024/366 challenge to think about project 52 and prompt number one. What does photography mean to me? It’s hard to put into words because it’s a feeling. It’s a living breathing thing as we found out last year. It’s a safety net, it’s a shield, it’s a voice, it is magic, it is mystery, it is truth and lies, it’s past, present, future. It’s pretty much everything.

What does photography mean to me? Yeah, let’s go with that: it’s pretty much everything.
It’s the reason I’m in this state. It’s the reason I have the job I do. It’s the reason I document. It’s the reason I have the people I have in my life. It’s the reason I met you. It’s the reason you look up. It’s the way we speak.

It’s the thing that gave me courage. It’s the thing that helped me say what I wanted to and then what I needed to. It gave me strength and actual power. It’s the reason he looks up. It’s why you opened your eyes. It held me up. It brought me back down to earth. It saved my life. It keeps us connected. It’s the thing I can’t let go. It’s the thing I can’t set down. It’s the thing I need.

You have to find your thing. You have to find the thing that fills the spot in your chest. It will feel like everything. I can’t explain it. You just have to feel it. Find the thing, let it consume you. Let it drive your life. But if you want to listen to a song that feels close to what it should feel like… Try this one — rite of spring by angels & airwaves.

”If I had a chance for another try, I wouldn’t change a thing, it’s made me all who I am inside. And if could thank god that I am here and that I am alive. And every day I wake, I tell myself a little harmless lie: the whole wide world is mine.”

I’ll see you next week.

TWELVE OF TWENTY FOUR

January 2, 2025

What’s that voiceover on social media? And with that, the 2024 season comes to an end. Goodnight.

1 Jan 2025 — As I tried to fall asleep, I jolted up: I didn’t post a photo! And then my brain turned on and it was rather unsettling but I laid back down, slight unease fluttering in and out of my limbs. Somehow, I slept despite the strange feeling of missing a day. I did not care for the feeling but I know I’ll burn out if I push too far.

For the 2025 season, I’ll be doing a photo a week. It’s called Project 52. I started a spreadsheet, because — hello — and I’m really hopeful I counted right but let’s not pretend I’m good at math all of sudden… Que sera, sera.

Project 52. Online, you’ll find tons of groups, forums, collectives posting the prompt for the week. I always check them out to see if there’s any new ideas that I could turn into a lesson or what-have-you but I’m always left unenthused. And I like being “thused”.

So I’m making my own, with the help of a few people and their suggestions. The goal is to go a bit deeper than surface level. I definitely went deeper in 366/2024 but not always, some days I just photographed what I saw — a bird, a cloud, the moon. Don’t get me wrong, I love these photographs too but I want to work on narratives in photography. So my overarching goal is to create a narrative that evokes emotion and encourages viewers to engage with the story. But I want to zero in on one area, surrealism: a style of photography that uses creative techniques to create dreamlike images that represent unconscious ideas, emotions, and dreams.

Are you surprised? You shouldn’t be. When I was younger I thought goals were so foolish. I didn’t see the merit. But now I really like them, I like working toward something.

Before we embark on this new journey (Week 1: 6 Jan 2025), I wanted to pick my favorite from each month of 2024.

J A N U A R Y

F E B R U A R Y

M A R C H

87/366/2024
Another untitled. I was really proud of how sharp I got the moon with a 300mm lens. I realized I would make it on this day. I knew some of the photos wouldn’t be up to my standard but I set expectations far too high for everything. But it was this day that I **knew** I would get to 366.

A P R I L

111/366/2024
I mean, just go read the post. I made this artwork based of *Lifeline* by Angels & Airwaves and again, it was so true.

111/366/2024
It was everything I wanted it to be. The six photos were exactly right.

M A Y

134/366/2024 // *here comes the promise of summer*
May was kinda rough. When I look back at the photos, each day holds a specific mood, memory and most of them are rough. This one felt a little like hope and another thing I dreamt up that came out just right.

J U N E

J U L Y

A U G U S T

220/366/2024 // *i wish i could slow down time but not enough to slow you down*
Another song I love dearly set to a visual. I did two different focus points — the grass, the tractor. I overlaid both photos and I was dumbfounded because why haven’t I always been doing this? It was like a knowledge quest was unlocked in this game. Something clicked into place.

S E P T E M B E R

249/366/2024
Another untitled, another moon, ‘nough said.

O C T O B E R

282/366/2024 // *and you never really know where it goes up until it starts*
I would never be caught alive in a hot air balloon. Absolutely not, no, nope. But man, I love to photograph them. I can’t believe it when I catch one. This one, over the corn field, sunrise. I mean — magic.

N O V E M B E R

D E C E M B E R

T H E E N D.

366.

December 31, 2024

Day 1 of 365 text in Italics.

They won’t all be winners. They definitely were not all winners.
I might not make it every day. I did!!!

I may not even make it to the end of the project… I’ve only ever made it to day 18 in the three times I’ve attempted this before. I can’t even guarantee the photos will be taken on the day they’re posted… They were all taken the day they were posted, although some of the collages just used a small aspect like a bird or a cloud. But they’ll exist for as long as I can keep it going. I kept it going.

Project 365. 366. I don’t know who first started this. I did some googling but wasn’t confident in the answers I found. Some crazy photographer who wanted a challenge…I’m sure. That’s usually how these things begin and then people follow along for the ride, then join in, and then it becomes this massive living thing. It absolutely did become this massive living breathing thing. It was, in short, awesome. I highly recommend, but first, fail it a few times when you start and then wait until life is fun again to do it for real. I could probably make a whole post about what I learned but I’m not ready to share that yet. I just know it was so worth it and it feels like it’s something I’ve always done.

However this ends up, I wanted a photo that would work as a bookend to the first. I dreamt up this idea in the car listening to all the greatest crappy punk songs I hold so dearly. I still listen to the same songs. Many of them made into a photograph and many more will.

And then I thought, maybe this is the year, 2024, 365, a photo a day. So whether I make it or not…on 12/31/2024 I’ll take the sister to this photo and invert the opposite side. Whether you stick around or join in, I’ll see you on the other side. Welcome to the other side.

I’m mostly the same, but a little different. One thing is for sure: I don’t want to stop. Seriously, tomorrow, I just don’t take a photo? Doesn’t seem authentic to who I am now. The camera has really become a part of my language, an extension of myself, it feels unfair, unnatural to stop it.

Here’s the sister photo for 366/366. (I really should have just changed the number when I realized it was a leap year, but if I had — then I wouldn’t be me.)

Also — now my nose no longer perfectly aligns with my mouth so that’s fun.

Thanks for taking the journey. Maybe I’ll see ya tomorrow. ;)

TO THE CITY

December 30, 2024

Every time I go to the city, it pretty much chews me up and spits me out.
Take me to an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere and I’m so solid.
Take me to a forest, river, lake, open field, ocean, even, I’m so good.
Take me to the city…I just can’t figure it out. Take the girl out of the prairie, can’t take the prairie out of the girl I guess. So when I woke up to the… what 5th straight day of fog… I said, “Ok, fine, Universe — you win.” And so I went… Twice.

Round 1.

Round 2.

THINK I'LL GO TO BOSTON

December 29, 2024

T-minus three and we all start over… [i don’t like the beginning of things, too much pressure]
Over but just begun — 364. 365. 366. Leap year, go figure… [i’ll pobby just continue]
Still need to go to Boston [where no one knows my name]

364/365 // *and,* *you don’t wear my chains*

ORANGE SKY.

December 28, 2024

song: “orange sky” by alexi murdoch

YOU'RE ALWAYS LEAVING THE LIGHT ON

December 27, 2024

song: garamond by arm’s length

362/365 // *stuck in a dream state of art*

362/365 // *should i fall off the face of the earth?*

HEAVEN ON EARTH.

December 27, 2024

A pair of Yellow Gloves
Too big to fill
A pair of Red Wings
Too strong to wear down

359/365 // *we’re gonna catch a big one*

With those big hands, it is said he built our home into the hillside,
I was too young to understand.
He has the hands of his father, I have the hands of my grandmother,
But our blood runs the same, though it won’t flow in my fingers any longer.

359/365 // *roaring or frozen, i love you all the same*

So he’ll slide one Yellow Glove from his marked and gnarled hand and pass it to me.
”Which one needs it?” The left. The right needs to advance the shutter. I can’t miss a moment.
Run ahead, crouch in the prairie grass, let the light slip lower, count the steps, take the shot.
I’ve taken these photographs one billion times but I need one billion more.

I was too young to understand when they moved our home and forged it among a snakes den.
We ran through the tree rows, got muddy in the culverts, shot fireworks past the clothesline.
Helped with Yellow Gloves to clear dead trees, and planted new ones.
Followed Red Wings as they lead us in and out of pastures. “We’ve got nothin’ but time.”

We’re going on a hike. And so we’ll play Remember When?
”The time Gypsy found two boys by the old trees where the Cannonball curves, starting a new civilization in a blizzard.”
”The time the Eldest crossed the river and fell in.”
”The time we lost the Second Uncle and the fire brigade rescued him.”
And I wonder if this too will be a Remember When on next year’s hike.
But alas, we make it to our destination, minus one pair of sunglasses.

359/365 // *pretty little dead things, part two*

And so we close another year with another hike and few more photographs of the people I’ve always known weaving their way across a frozen prairie. Amidst the golden hour, with the sound of the prairie grass, I can’t help but notice we’re a few members short.

359/365 // *few things are greater than a view like this*

My chest squeezes because I want it to always exist.
The way they forged this family, this tradition, I need it to stay.
I need it to always live on.
I need every photograph, every cocklebur, every stick of the western wheatgrass.
And like every other year, I can’t quite catch my breath —
And I wonder how I could have ever left, heaven on earth, because I’ve always only ever followed

A pair of Yellow Gloves
Too big to fill
A pair of Red Wings
Too strong to wear down

”Come along, shadow.”

ALWAYS ALMOST THERE.

December 22, 2024

Sometimes I wake up and it’s a “close out the world day.”
Headphones in. Music playing, no skips.
You can repeat a song, but you can’t skip it.
You can save it to a playlist, but you have to let it play.

Sometimes on “close out the world day” —
I sit in front of the camera on a tripod and wait for the song to tell me what to do.
Sometimes I wait a long time.
Sometimes Vincent appears to see what’s happening and why I can’t hear him.
Sometimes he takes a shot at portraiture.

Today had a really great stream of random songs.
Like really great.
Like I saved almost every single one.
As I sat in front of the camera three really visual songs played in a row.
But I started taking images during Always Almost There by Cathryn Lovett