One of my biggest fears is losing my memory. As someone who’s had firsthand experiences of older family members slowly losing their remembrance of life, I not only dread this occurring to myself but am painfully saddened to see it brought onto others close and far to me. This collection of photographs is my artistic envisionment of how fond moments in life that possess great value can deteriorate and become something unrecognizable to one’s self.
Over the course of multiple days, I walked to numerous spots across Bowling Green, Ohio that has caught my eye over the four years that I’ve lived here. At each of these places, I took two different types of photographs. For the first part, I’d try and carefully craft a photogenic composition that clearly captures my love for the respective spot. This represents my present, real-time memory of these locations. This is how I’ll always want to envision these areas in my mind. The second image I attempted at these sites was long-shuttered and sporadic. I didn’t attempt to craft or reflect my artistic gaze. I lengthened the shutter and let my body freely move the camera. This led to completely abstract shots that lacked a sense of control or identity. This represents how memories can sometimes be forgotten, resulting in hazy, fragmented figments of one's life.
One of these sets of images should not be more attractive or ugly than the other. But rather both are uniquely beautiful in their own right, just as how one’s life doesn’t lose its value simply because their recollection of it begins to dwindle away.