I began many years ago, making edits of each year, as a symbol of completion, a neat way to categorize the passage of time. I wanted to record the good where it’s so good and you never want to be with out it, those days where you try and turn life into physical verifiable items. And when it’s so bad your not really sure what else there is to do.
In the end, it’s the story of falling in and out of love with life and I don’t claim it as a great volume in the canon of the world, but more a running theme. To me it is not to put any of the images alone, there is no hero shot. They are a string all tied together in equal and unequal succession. The study of my life in the form of a personal anthropology, my closest companions are also my reality stars. They each are a creek which join to a stream and end in a river, and I am an island in the middle.
We went swimming in the inky pond at the top of the hill. No one else would come in with us and the mud at the bottom sucked our feet down like a monster.
I went backwards for months and am backwards again right now, but that is neither here nor there.
I am sharing what I see, to claim I am also human.
This has been the last year from approximately September to September