“I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude.” — Henry David Thoreau
Please contact me if you are interested in adding this or any other piece to your collection.
“I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude.” — Henry David Thoreau
Please contact me if you are interested in adding this or any other piece to your collection.
Maybe you have seen the Facebook challenge that is going around right now. Maybe not if your Facebook feed isn’t stuffed full of artists like mine, but periodically it seems there is a new meme going around fb to fill it with flowers, or art, or kittens (oh wait…it is always filled with kittens). The current one is challenging artists to post three pieces of art everyday for 5 days.
Since I already feel like a constant fountain of art spam I decided to dig a little deeper, at least for today. I went to the very back of a filing cabinet drawer that houses a pile of three-ring binders, with yellowing and crusty masking tape on the spines declaring their contents: photo articles, 10th grade, 11th grade, 12th grade, yearbook, odd jobs, seniors. In them lie roll after roll of negatives and contact sheets from my high school career, which I experienced mostly through the camera. Continue reading »
In 2014 I was honored to begin working with Barclay Martin and Unbound to develop a strategy and curate a new project. We wanted to use photographs, video, and music to bring awareness to the good work that the organization does throughout the world (Unbound is currently working in 21 developing countries).
We had our inaugural show in November at The Living Room Theatre, where we had a great setting, beautiful lighting, amazing live music, and projections done by the incomparable Quixotic Fusion. We had a packed house, a great response, and it was a success on every measure.
As I set off into the new year, I spend a fair amount of time looking at the past. I compare what transpired to the goals I set for myself and the studio, and plan ahead for the year to come. This seems almost universal at this time of year, and I have been contemplating why. And, like so many things in my life, I have found understanding of it in my studio, in the images I have taken, and in the experience of taking them.
Kyle and I have spent a fair amount of time over the last couple of years on paths, forested hiking paths in the mountains, small trails along the bluff overlooking the ocean, an assortment of rails to trails for biking. I am often sorely disappointed that I, for a variety of reasons, can’t seem to capture adequate images of the experience. First, when I find myself in a new environment, I study it and understanding doesn’t come right away. It is this understanding that gives me the ability to capture the meaning of a place. Second, I am attempting to stay present and somehow, no matter what camera it is that I bring to my eye, the act of taking a picture pulls me away from the moment. And last, you can’t always see the forest for the trees. (You saw that coming didn’t you?)
Isn’t that the way it is with our year? The planning and anticipation of the hike ahead is a wonderful part of the experience. But while we are en route we are watching our step, thinking of the task at hand, perhaps pushing ourselves a bit further than we think we can go, with only an occasional pause of wonder. And finally, when we have returned to the campsite, and slowed our breathing as we look into the fire, we get some perspective, and only then can we see the sum of the parts and find understanding.
“It’s easy to feel as if we’re standing two inches away from a huge canvas that’s noisy and crowded and changing with every microsecond. It’s only by stepping farther back and standing still that we can begin to see what that canvas (which is our life) really means, and to take in the larger picture.” — Pico Iyer, The Art of Stillness: Adventures in Going Nowhere
Please contact me if you are interested in adding this or any other piece to your collection.
© 2020 Chris Dahlquist