saunter iii
My neighbors were killed, and their murderers moved in. Lessons from the eclipse and my Saturn return.
We left LA in the early afternoon, arriving just as the moon was rising above the horizon. Joshua Tree was cold, and I didn’t bring a warm enough jacket. I’m never properly dressed to be honest. Bradley always reminds me.
This trip was spontaneous, and will last only about 16 hours. Our mission is to watch the eclipse in the desert and then head right back home in the morning.
By 9pm, the moon is high enough in the sky to cast a milky light across the verdant desert, creating my favorite conditions to shoot images at night.
I loved the way the moon was piercing through this doorway of stone, creating a shadow of whoever’s figure passed through. Genevieve kindly became my subject, dressed in her own clothes including a goldfish skirt, wool shawl and shaved head. She embodies my favorite combination of sensibilities—when the ancient, ritualistic and reverent meet something mundane, modern and painfully familiar. Genevieve’s dog Hero hopped in when I entered the frame to complete the scene— she’s extremely protective of Genevieve.
To my surprise, Hero, locked in a focus unmatched by most humans, was able to stand completely still for a four second exposure. Many times.
I’ve become quite torn between these two very similar images, which is often times the case when I’m narrowing my work in the edit. This is a great example of when that process gets hard. Doorway 1 has, to me, a slightly more intense performance from our canine talent, which I love. The way she looks at me (I’m on the right) with her head and body ready to pounce creates a sort of tension in the scene that is more tangible than in Doorway 2. But Doorway 2 has slightly better composition and light, where my body has more room to breath in the frame and the candle’s bloom is less harsh. There is also something about Hero being in front of Genevieve that brings it’s own intensity.
After falling asleep for a few hours, we woke up at 3am to watch the eclipse in it’s totality. Genevieve’s friend Nirav led us in an hour long breath work experience. I learned how to slow my breath and keep air in my lungs to warm my body. I learned how cold I become when I breath quickly, never letting the air get a chance to warm in my flesh. Makes me think of how I also breath in this world everyday—do I warm what I take in, or do I let what I take in cool me? Depends on how I breath, I suppose. Right now I need more heat, so maybe I should slow down…let what I breath in transform inside of me before letting it go too quickly.
We watched our planet’s shadow glide across the craters of the moon. I thought about what it meant to truly confront the blood-red darkness of our planet. To see it cast on the familiar silver face. Our shadow seems so dark right now. It made me think of how we often, as individuals, cast our own shadows upon the faces of those who are familiar to us, seeing our own darkness in their eyes when we refuse to see it in our own. I thought about how we do this collectively too, casting shadows of our own communities onto our neighbors. I thought about my shadow, when and who I cast it upon.
This month would be much about this part of myself, my shadow.
My Shadow Six Times
Projecting my insecurities onto others by criticizing their flaws when they are really present in my own character.
Avoiding confrontation and letting wounds or disagreements fester.
Phone addiction masked as “working.” Watching the weeks slip through my fingers, complaining about not having enough time.
Ego around what type of work I create, leading to not creating work at all (talked about this a bit in saunter ii).
Repressed rage, unprocessed jealousy.
Sarah and I had a great road trip up the coast this month. We got to know each other, being new friends. I was surprised to learn about myself through spending time with Sarah, including some shadow elements! I feel like she made me aware of my tendency to people please and not be firm in my voice and desires, in interpersonal instances, but definitely also during shooting/directing. Not cute!
There is a father/protector archetype inside of all of us, and when we refuse to embody that element when needed, the whole body, system, or individual suffers greatly. Perhaps my greatest confrontation this month was in facing my inner father, who has fallen into a deep and resentful despair, like a deep watery tomb of his own making.
The Murder of Father Raven
The first thing I see almost every morning from my window is hardly a conscious sight at all—It’s the silhouettes of ravens flying across our windows, back and forth, sending a swift dart of shadow along our floor each time.
For years, the same raven couple has been nesting just outside our window underneath a catwalk attaching our building to another building in our complex. Ravens mate for life, and though we’ve only been here one year, the previous tenants and neighbors have been watching this couple through many seasons. Last year, just after we moved in, we watched the couple raise two babies into full raven adults. We saw them grow from chicks to fledglings, and even saw them take their first flight.
This year, the raven couple, who we refer to as Mother and Father, returned for another year of nesting. Bradley and I watched as they made their nest and bore another four chicks.
One day in February, Father landed right outside our window as it rained. He didn’t usually do this, so it was a welcome moment of connection. He watched us and we watched him.
Almost exactly a month later, I ran into him in the stairwell to our building leading to the roof. It was probably 8pm and I was home alone. The sight of him sent my heart to my feet. He is large and his feathers soaked in the florescent light, sending no reflection back… he was a shadow with just a glint of white fear for an eye, staring at me. I soon realized as he started moving that his wing was extremely broken, dragging across the concrete as he hopped over the iron fence to an area of roof inaccessible to humans.
That night I brought him water and food.
The next morning I couldn’t find him. Still, I brought him and mother water and food and set it over their nest, which suspended in the rafters below the catwalk several feet. I knew with Father gone ,Mother’s job of caring for the chicks would be difficult to do alone. Maybe I could help. Maybe I could get father to a rehabilitation center.
For three days I brought the couple food and water, which Mother ate and brought both to Father, who I would see only briefly between hiding spots, and to the chicks. I watched as Mother swiftly chased off a hostile raven several times.
I’m learning just now as I’m writing this that a group of Ravens is called an “unkindness” or “conspiracy.” It sends a chill through my bones to finally understand why.
On the fourth day, I remember waking up to a countless stream of raven shadows passing across the floor of our apartment, and a concert of distressing caws. Father was now down in the parking lot, further injured, and Mother was fighting off an unkindness of three ravens. She would go back and forth between protecting Father and the nest, and back to the father. The conspiracy attacking both.
Eventually the fight became too much. Mother could no longer protect the nest as the stranger Ravens descended. Perhaps too tired to continue the fight, She landed by Father, and then we watched as a pair of Ravens tore the babies to pieces, eating parts before eventually dropping the bodies stories down to the hot pavement.
Do Ravens mourn? Science seems to deem any animal behavior that appears human-like as merely survival behavior. Ravens gathering after the death of a family member is to investigate the cause of death and avoid the same fate. But it seems like a projection.
When we mourn, is it for our own survival?
This is the last time I saw Mother and Father. Later that afternoon, Father was picked up by the city and euthanized because his injuries were too severe. I haven’t seen Mother since then, but now each day I wake up to the shadows of the unkindness that killed father and the babies dancing across my floor.
I wish I could describe how deeply this tragedy cut into me. For one, it made me recognize how important Father was for the protection of his family. When he could no longer fly, all else was lost in turn. It’s made me want to pull my own internal father figure out of the stagnant water he’s been in and charge a sword in his hand.
Then theres also the possibility that perhaps this raven family I had grown to know and love had at one point done the same thing to another raven family before I moved in. Maybe I wasn’t seeing these ravens for what they were—flesh and shadow. Both. Just like us.
Tests, Creatures and Grass
Here (above) Cassie and I got together one evening (with help from Bradley and my friend Tim) to experiment with a new light I’ve been using. Still getting in the flow of shooting more this last few months, and what I’m finding is that creating intentionally when you have a block is like breathing intentionally when you’re really cold—heat doesn’t happen in one movement, you have to stoke the fire, create the friction, feed the flame.
These purple and green pieces represent a new color study I’m working on based off of all of the adventures I’ve had with naturalist friends exploring at night with black light. Eager to continue a narrative with these colors in mind. I think saunter iv will have a lot of these themes.
Last year I did a play in the woods for Ostara, which I didn’t photograph regrettably. I’m beginning testing and casting to bring the series back. I’m not quite ready to talk about the themes or big picture, but am gathering the elements to tell this story slowly.
For now, I’ll continue the self portrait test shots.
Eclipses
It’s another full moon now, and so time to release the air I’ve been holding onto and warming this month. I’m ready for another breath of cold. Growing hungrier for depth everyday, feeling weary of stagnant water.
How do I wake my inner father from his trance? How do I dance with my shadow? How can I love the ravens who murdered their own kind?
Questions for the color red, I think.
As always, I adore talking with you all in this format. Please comment ideas and images that resonate with you.