Category : Nature
My life feels upside down. Everything about it feels disorienting. What I thought was (true) North, is suddenly not. I feel my emotions with enormous intensity, yet I feel somehow outside myself, watching me and the world around as if from above. I’m not sure what is ground. I can’t find my footing.
The past few days here in Nebraska have been dreary to say the least. So as this Monday descends cold and a tad bleak, I’m seeking a bit of escape. In my mind, I’m transported back to San Sebastián, Spain. I fell madly, deeply in love with San Sebastián. Come take a peek at this enchanting, gorgeous, food mecca by the sea…
Other than my beloved city of Paris, San Sebastián was my favorite place we visited this past summer. It is such an incredibly relaxed and beautiful place, filled with amazing food. And all of that is topped off by its location next to the ocean. As an East Coast girl living in the landlocked Midwest, any place where I can swim in the big blue makes me incredibly happy. I’m already dreaming of a return trip.
What or where are you dreaming of today?
PS–all photos shot on Portra 160 35mm film with the Canon AE-1.
I’ve been swirling for the past few weeks. Most days have felt like a struggle. Getting out of bed has been difficult. Pushing through the day has required inordinate effort. I’ve been looking forward to the end of the day when I can come home, change into my pajamas, and pour a glass of wine, with far too much gleeful anticipation.
I’m having tumultuous dreams and flashback images of my mother. A dear friend’s wife died, bringing up all of the feelings associated with the knowledge that friends my age shouldn’t be dying and that I, too, will die. My tendencies toward existential crisis lie just below the surface, and needless to say, have been spilling over. My self-efficacy regarding writing a memoir, telling my story and telling it well, has been dangerously circling the drain. Oh, and Mercury was in retrograde. I can’t see the forest for the trees.
I have been stuck. In a fragile, emotional, crying-three-times-a-day funk. For a few weeks. But I’m coming out of it. I’m clawing my way to the surface. I have to. I need to see the big picture. I need to remember that life is short and I will die, and to use that knowledge to embrace the life I have rather than retreat from it. I need to remember that revisiting my past opens old doors, and that dreams and flashbacks are part of the process. I need to remember that I’ve never written a memoir before, that this is all new territory for me, and that my self-efficacy will grow as I keep writing.
Yes, I’m shaking the devil off. Casting off the stuck-ness. Starting to glimpse the forest again.
I have so much to share about summer that does not include near-death experiences and losing photos. Where to begin… June brought our annual Tribe retreat and travel to my favorite place on the planet. This year’s gathering, our fourth, brought with it inevitable life circumstances that kept two of our sisters from joining us. Turns out, you can’t plan around arrivals of babies and new jobs. We held these sisters in spirit during our time together, much like we did the year previous when a death in the family kept another sister away from our sacred time. I imagine that this will be how our years together get marked, with the life events, the ebbs and flows, that etch our memories.
As always, we engaged in deep conversations, catching one another up on the big events and the smaller whispers that had transpired since we last gathered. Although we keep in regular contact throughout the year, many parts of our lives — our longings, the risks we’ve taken, the transitions we’ve weathered — need to be shared with one another in person with more time and space to hold our stories. Connecting and being together in this way on retreat is such a gift. And with that, the documenting of our time in photos and video took a backseat.
The only real photography plans I had for the trip was a photo shoot Melissa and I had been scheming — much more on that later. These plans, however, did encourage me to pack along some black and white film to shoot with my Canon AE-1. I adore the look and feel of black and white photography, but had only really shot true B&W film with my Polaroids cameras.
All images shot using Tri-X 400, scanned by Indie Film Lab. As always, you can click on each image to see a larger format.
When I got the email from Indie Film Lab with the subject line, “Your Scans are Ready,” my heart skipped a beat. A few weeks earlier, I had shipped the lab four rolls of film — three from our trip to Spain and France, and one from our trip to Colorado. You know the one from Colorado…that roll of film that was in my camera as I was pulled into the turbulent rapids of the North St. Vrain River. The roll of film that spent 15 minutes under water inside my now-waterlogged camera. The roll of film for which I had slim hopes of the lab being able to process as I expected the emulsion to have either slipped off or to have dried and stuck to itself in the canister. Yeah, that roll of film.
The email didn’t say anything about that roll of film. Despite me contacting the lab ahead of time to tell them what had happened and regardless of my notes on the order itself about the water damage, the message was simply the usual, somewhat automated email from the lab. I held my breath as I downloaded the zip file. Indeed, there were four folders that appeared in the unzipped file, one for each roll of film that I had sent. I quickly determined which folder contained the Colorado roll of film and opened it. And there I discovered 19 scans. Really?! 19 scans? Lest I get too excited just yet, I braced myself for streaky, muddied, images.
To my surprise, as I clicked on each jpeg file, I discovered that Indie Film Lab salvaged these photos! Yes, the images were a bit hazy, a bit “off,” but the photos were there.
I’m so grateful for the work Indie Film Lab did to save this half-shot, damaged roll of film. Not only did they salvage these images, they salvaged my memories from a trip that seemingly got washed away.
Don’t forget that you can click on each image to see a larger version.