When I first moved out here to the opposite side of the country, I decided to make a website that would have a “digital portfolio” so I could apply to big-time high-paying high-times big-paying part-time jobs in Seattle. It only took me two years to get it to the point I could put a link to it in a job application.
Narration, photos and samples covering 40 years of design work while being a knitter, a sheep farmer and mother. After two more years keeping it up to date and revising things, I woke up one morning and decided I was sick of all the old stuff, sick of looking at it, sick of revising things, sick of being reminded of the glorious past every time I go through my photo libraries, wondering why I care about all the stuff that happened in the olden days.
I came out here to be with the present days of my children and make some present days for myself. I decided I needed a new website with no more photos of sheep or farms or fences or Maine or of the things I loved. No photos older than three years, no digital portfolio, and nothing for the world to read. Just for me to write a journal in when I felt like it.
Along comes “Narrative Photography” and I have made it the justification, impetus, for this. Just some writing with photos.
Walter said my problem was that I liked too many things, but at least I had an identity back then. Now things I like are all pretty irrelevant. Liking and being are separated by so many degrees.