So, I just got off the computer for my virtual photography critique. This is the group of women who all went through the same masters program as I did. And I did something that makes me super vulnerable. I told them about this blog. Hey Wenches! Here I am, sending off my words into the atmosphere for almost 20 years and never even trying to find an audience. (Ever since that weird interaction early on with a group of online bullies, I have no interest in what strangers think) What was important to me has always been to just put things into words, not looking for feedback here, not looking for the sweet sweet validation I crave in so many other aspects of my life. Just looking for a nice safe place to let loose with some stories. Maybe one day my kids will look back and read some funny stories from their childhood or something. I don't know. I don't even think I actually care.
Anyways, I shared two projects with the critique group. The easy one was my current way of looking at the dying beech trees. Instead of making images from a distance of a large part of the tree I have been getting almost aggressively close and I was happy with the results and wanted to see if other people thought they were strong images as well. I got an enthusiastic reaction, so YAY! Love me some enthusiasm! Next step is to continue to make more images and see what I get. I just love photographing in this way, where I have no control over the light and have to approach the quest for photographs like a hunter. Heading into the woods, looking for my victims! (Insert evil laughter) (Also, sorry, kind of tired over here, and that means I am getting silly) Yeah, but you know, the hunt is part of the fun for me.
But the project I spent the most time discussing was my Bob project. Recall: my bestie Bob died at 49 in 2014, I have his ashes and I made the promise to his dying father that I would take those ashes to Italy and leave them in beautiful places after a discussion with Bob's L.A. best friend where we both agreed that is what he would have wanted because the last couple of years of his life he often talked about selling everything and buying a one way to ticket to Italy where he would roam around looking at all the beauty. He actually told me that he didn't care what happened to his body. (Which I totally understand! I feel the same way) Well, Bob didn't ever make to Italy, so getting him there and leaving parts of him in magnificent vistas is truly on the top of my own bucket list. But, I have told you that before, I know. I can never just start in the middle of the story!
My critique group suggested that maybe I don't wait to start photographing Bob (or rather, his ashes), and that I start now. All this time, which, I can not believe has been almost 9 years, that is a long time, and the thought of it makes me cry, is the kind of time that feels like forever and just yesterday at the same time, I only ever thought of bringing his ashes to Italy and I never even opened the box to look at his ashes. But, I am going to look at his ashes tonight. I wish I had someone here to hold my hand while I looked, and I don't want to wait for one of the kids to be around because, you know, I don't want to be a creepy weird and sad mom, so maybe I will try to phone a friend while I look. I am trying to decide if I should bring his ashes to Italy as ashes or try to do something with them first and bring them in solid form. People do some crazy stuff with ashes, and I don't want to go too wacky with them, but I have some ideas floating around my little brain. So, the first ting I need to do is unbox Bob and see what I am dealing with. The next thing I need to do is obsess even more about what shape and form I want him to be in when I leave him in Italy and if it is not ashes I will have to take care of transforming him. There is a company that will convert a person's ashes to stone, and I would be tempted if it wasn't ridiculously expensive. But, I think that this might be more of a DIY situation, due to me being a DIY kind of girl and also being able to use the process as a way of coping with my grief which still hits pretty hard. Okay, step one happens tonight. I will look at the ashes. I will be brave. I will not cry. I may have just lied to the world wide web.