July 13, 2019

Obsessing over old photos lately... the colors and textures and the memories wedged in between... 

Photographs are important to me, especially since my memory is not great. My two long time best friends and I discuss this regularly.  We go on a girl’s trip at least once a year, just the three of us. We eat too much and drink too much and shop too much… enjoying time away from deadlines and responsibilities … and we talk. And talk, and talk. The phrase, “Remember when,” is hurled into the conversation bringing forth loud, obnoxious bouts of  laughter. I’ve noticed they remember things that happened twenty or thirty years ago (or even a year or two ago) I have absolutely no recollection of… and I was (allegedly) there!  Honestly, it’s sad. I do have this: I have Synesthesia, my memories, though not as plentiful as others have, are colorful and beautifully congested. Synesthesia is an interesting phenomenon that means one’s senses actually cross sometimes. For example, some people can taste words they hear, or (as in my case) see all of their letters and numbers in color. When I hear someone’s name, or a word, the colors of the letters swirl together to make up a vision that represents the word. Add that to the actual visual memory of the event and the colors are everywhere!

I Want To Hold Each Photograph In My Hand

It’s great to have 24,307 photos saved in the cloud, really, it is! I use my digital photo albums in my studio every day. There’s something about holding a photograph in your hands. It reminds you that the moment actually happened, and you were there. I want to paint the colors of that moment. My abstracts come from that. You may not see my dad or my grandmama, but I want you to know them through hue and light and balance... it’s another way of seeing.