January-Jeanne

The beginning is (usually) a very good place to start

January 2025

The first two weeks of 2025 has been all: staring-into-the-literal-flames-of-the-future; it’s been straining to make-out whispers of hope through the deafening roar, it’s been an attempt at channeling the bravery of Joan of Arc¹, and paying tribute to her legacy, it has been finishing “To Photograph is to Learn How to Die”², trying my best to embody each digression, internalize every quote, every line of wisdom, consider every angle, every possible outcome. The start of 2025 has been full of extremists, and extreme weather, extreme hand gestures, extreme global claims, extreme and radical acceptance. January has been the loss of earthly possessions, and a beloved visionary³, and, as always, more and more lives. As Vonnegut liked to say: so it goes.

I had forgotten what film was in the camera and my light meter was broken - I made an educated guess and got a little lucky.

Little winter women in white on the run - December, Paris 2024

January has been dry. I look forward to savoring that first sip of red wine come February along with everything else that comes with another passing month of a new year. Soon, the new year will be old and tired and we’ll be itching to swap it for a new one.

It has long been a fascination of mine when one can capture a seemingly timeless image of the modern world.

Empty, broken, and abandoned chairs have also been objects of my fascination - I have consciously collected images of them since 2019.

1.

2. https://www.timcarpenterphotography.com/books It will change (or enforce) how you see the act of making art, specifically photography and writing. A profound piece of writing, in my opinion.

3. Love you and your work forever and for ever. I would say I wish I could have met you but I think we all really got to know your soul through your work and your words and wisdom. Grateful to have been alive while you were.