The Art of Observation

I’ve been thinking about what it means to be observant. I’m someone who sees a lot more than I let on: sometimes what others fail to see (and sometimes what others attempt to conceal). I watch and I listen and I always remember to look up. Being observant is how I’ve kept joy alive in my life for the last 9+ years with my #roaming project, and about twenty years since I began to document my life on film.

There is an unfortunate disconnect between what I see and what I remember, which was the catalyst to start documenting in the first place. But even though my short-term memory is questionable at best, I remember those things that felt important. The first time I visited a far-flung cemetery in Brooklyn, and what it meant to discover that place. The smell of honeysuckle through the open car window on a winding road in the Algarve. Watching the spray of the Mediterranean kiss the cliffs on the Peloponnese peninsula in southern Greece. Feeling the sun on my skin as I made my way through labyrinthine hedges on the grounds of Versailles. Daily life is filled with little frustrations and grievances; it’s worth the reminder that there are pockets of joy that will always quiet those ugly moments.

I have not been out shooting as much the last few months as I’d have liked. The weekend weather has been unpredictable, and I’ve been focused on other things at home. Though my project has been on a brief hiatus, I’ve never stopped observing my surroundings and taking moments to appreciate how beautiful even the smallest things can be.