A journey of self discovery.
A fight with fate and life.
A celebration of hope and freedom.
Turn your volume up to watch the still film and hear the poem recited with it to bring everything together.
Below are the individual images that make up the still film above along with the poem written out for you (still film is a term I made up for these projects I LOVE to create- still photography images put in to motion to make a film paired with an original poem written and recited by myself for this project.) Enjoy!
I wasn’t born here.
But somehow these weathered boards grew around me like a womb.
And it’s not that I adored them.
It’s just that my body ached with the idea of stepping out in to daylight at high noon.
I fought to be safe.
I fought to be sheltered.
I fought to avoid false hope.
And I fought to be unaltered.
Translates in to :
I fought to be hidden.
I fought to be trapped.
I fought to know darkness.
And I fought to know lack.
Lack of freedom.
Lack of fresh air.
Lack of warmth.
Lack of determination to care.
I remember first walking into the house.
I had told myself I wouldn’t stay long, just long enough to avoid the storm they had told me about.
But day after day, the storm never came.
It was like they had purposefully lied to me to keep me the same.
What if I die here?
This cloak fits me perfectly like a coffin fitted just for my body.
Coffins are safe, and they are clean.
But they also get buried 10 feet down in to the dirty ground by men who hang out with death as a hobby.
I chose to step out.
I chose to feel the hate.
I chose open spaces.
And I chose to fight fate with fate.
And I said to myself- I wasn’t born here.
But this field welcomes me like a moth to a flame.
To get sucked in by the beauty
And melt in to that dream just the same.
Dirt under my toes, wind in my hair.
Like a wild bird flying south just to get a taste of what’s out there.
And that’s when the panic sank in.
Just like a boat the moment it realizes the storm that it’s in.
But unlike a boat I could run from this storm.
I could hide in the woods from the reality of the unborn.
I didn’t have to sink, I didn’t have to swim. I could go back to port and confess my sins.
Yes, oh dear god, yes I know I shouldn’t have left.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start a big mess.
But it’s ok, right? It’s ok if I go back?
There’s still time for me to get swallowed by the bleached walls of that shack…
There’s still time for me to die there.
Epiphany is a beautiful thing.
It comes at that exact moment when you aren’t thinking anything.
That moment when you see truth, and death, and light all at the same time.
And you look down at yourself and realize everything will be just fine.
I was born here.
The blue sky reflecting in my eyes just as the ocean does to the midnight sky.
Just as houses crumble in the wake of the fire- they are learning
And me. I am burning.
A Deeper Look:
Poetry and Art can be a an overly expressive thing. I find that I create pieces with images and words BEFORE my brain can even process WHY I am doing it. EVERY time I think I just have a really unique idea and by the time I am done, I've learned something new about myself.
This is about a personal journey of growing. The dark dramatic spin is just there to pack an extra punch.
My assistant and my model really helped me grow the concept here. I wanted to show a woman fighting to get out of this drab house and it was the model who mentioned we should show the emotional progression through clothing. It was perfect.
But think about your life and how you build walls around yourself that you think are there to keep you safe, and in all reality, sometimes they are just limiting you, or crushing you. "That" idea you have, you know, THAT one.... when you first have the thought, you feel limitless... you feel like you have broken down those walls but there's ALWAYS that voice of panic, there's always that voice of "reason" that tells you to be responsible, rethink everything, take a step back. And once many of us hit that stage, there's no going back. We run away from "that" idea. We sink back in to what we are used to and we will, all dramatics aside, die there. This still film is what it feels like when you take that leap of fate and run. And keep running. And live.