Springtime Quarantine
This is my first post on This Far! I’ve just moved to a new city for a Masters program, so I was excited to get my first roll of film developed here and post something from that. I would have talked about my transition, the numerous ups and downs I’ve already felt over the past three months here. Of course, COVID caused delays at the film studio and I won’t have my photos until next week, which honestly I should have expected.
I decided I still want to share some of my photos, but I wasn’t sure what was “good enough” to be my first post. So, these are the 5 photos I’m submitting. I didn’t think too hard about what I was trying to photograph when I went out with my camera–honestly I was trying to finish up a roll of film at the beginning of quarantine. It was finally starting to feel like spring and my neighborhood in Jersey where I grew up was getting some color to it again. I had started going on a lot of walks every day when quarantine started. Originally I would walk because there was nothing else for me to do, really. I had no job, I was waiting to hear back about grad school, and there was only so much cleaning or embroidering or video gaming I could do to fill each anxiety-riddled day. Quickly, walking turned into something therapeutic for me. I would walk around my little neighborhood over and over, seeing the same things every time I went out, the same things I’ve been seeing for my whole life, save the first five years when we lived in a different part of the same town. Each time I went out, I would try to do what I’ve come to call “active seeing”. I would look at the trees that have watched me grow up, and focus on seeing each single leaf, each line in the bark, each individual piece that my brain would normally scan and register as a “tree”. It wasn’t just a tree now, though. It was a collection of lines and shapes and colors that I could see with such clarity and intensity, it filled me with a strong sense of calm and presence and safety. My walks became more exciting as I began to find new ways to look at everything around me each time I stepped out the door. Now, still existing during a pandemic, but living thousands of miles from everyone I know and love, I’ve started doing this more often in my life. As I walk around my new, unfamiliar neighborhood, I make a point to actively take in all that I see around me. This has been such an important tool for me to stay grounded and to stay in control of my anxiety over the past few months, and it has become such a joyful activity for me to really commit to seeing the world that I inhabit.
Which brings me back to these photos! When I started seriously exploring photography in high school and college, I always used to feel that, in order to be a great photographer, I had to find the most beautiful, fascinating, unique places/people/things in the world to photograph. I always thought “if what I’m photographing is gorgeous, there’s no way I could fuck it up”. I would rarely give myself any credit for the photos I took, because the subject matter would be doing all the work, at least that’s what it felt like. As I’ve gotten older (and gone to therapy), I’ve realized that was just some bullshit safety mechanism in my mind keeping me from really exploring my creativity without inhibitions. Posting photos like these–just random shots that felt right in the moment to take–has required a bit more confidence in my work, more trust that the way I see and experience the world is valid, worthy of sharing. I feel like I’m finally coming to a place where I feel comfortable in accepting and reveling in the discomfort of being nervous and unsure about what I have to share, but pushing forward anyway. These photos are that for me, at least in this moment. They’re images that brought me joy to imagine shooting, and they brought me joy when I saw them developed, and I hope they can bring you joy in some way or another.
:)
Kevin Priolo
