Have we talked recently?
If not, maybe you still noticed that I haven’t been much around. I took myself off social media in a dramatic but very freeing move, with the notable exception of Strava – but let’s not get excited about that, because unless we run together in one form or another I don’t accept follow requests, so I think it doesn’t really count as a social media. I’ve also been very protective of my personal time and space this season, and the result of that is that I barely saw anyone who isn’t living on my street block in the past two months.
And I’m leading with this, because I think that this folding into myself, this turning inwards, it might just be another manifestation of the creative ebb I’m traversing.
Every once in a while, I pick something up (a camera, a paintbrush, a pair of scissors…), don’t have a rush of inspiration, get bored and cave back in. It sucks.
When I’m not busy – which is what October has been, thankfully – I feel paralized. Nothing sticks.
But despite this lack of drive, there’s still a few things that I do make an effort to show up for. And they involve a Holga.
I didn’t produce groundbreaking work. No, that’s not the point. If you judge holga week by the output, this year might have been a terrible week.
But it got me out of my shell. I went on the street, took three shots. I organized a photowalk (and even showed up!), and I took another 5. Something along those numbers. I photographed our halloween skeleton – kids weren’t feeling cooperative, so I made portraits with what let me. I even finished the roll I loaded last year for Holga week 2023 in the pinhole camera (it turns out it was lomo turquoise, that came as a surprize, and the terrace view is from last year, so I didn’t submit it, and I won’t lie, I was little mad about it).
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still deep in my slump, and these images aren’t winning any award, but in the meanwhile I made this, and it felt right.
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