
One of my all time favorite spaces is in this old kitchen chair.
I have to guess that the chair is almost an antique, which is why I juxtaposed the antique shaker chair on the right side of the frame. This once white stepping chair was in my grandmother's (in Center City, Philadelphia) kitchen next to the window AC unit and fridge. I felt secure in the tight corner next to the bread box, which fascinated me since in Florida the bread was in the fridge.
As I hibernate through this hot summer, I imagine what Florida's pioneers and native residents experienced without the luxury of air conditioning. I am remembering the words of Robert Frost(sorry I just can't help myself) taking the roadless traveled. My journey down the road of a photographer is not less traveled just more about persistence and endurance. I am just not me unless I am holding a camera, clicking, home, and extra $ potential, I am still creating. So to this, I implore everyone to write down your personal history, draw, photograph. Perhaps this act is just like authentic creation because, well, in the psychology of journaling the creator exists in a undefinable space that as a viewer we try to imagine.
Make a journal, find an old sketchbook, use that Barnes-n-Noble giftcard from your birthday last year. Might I also mention that writing, the act of making letters into words on paper, is an essential skill. Find an inspiring pen, pencil, marker..."borrow" one from the doctors office. Find a comfy space and with just paper and an writing instrument you can be making history.