...honest I am. I thought I would show you the revised photograph, here, and make you wait a bit longer to see the stitching, which I started today. I decided that the first version of the photograph I selected was just too dark, and decided to go with the one above, instead. I'm also showing you the original image, or at least, one of them, taken by my friend, Haydn. It's difficult to lay your hands on pictures of people who aren't smiling, or at least looking reasonably happy. Photographs are taken on happy occasions, to freeze a memory. Depression isn't the kind of thing people want to commemorate,or even dwell on too much. Hence, no miserable pictures. So I asked Haydn to take a series of miserable pictures. I was mildly alarmed by just how easy it was to drop into depression, or at least into depressed mode, if you like. I tensed up, hunched my shoulders, dropped my head, tried not to look up...and there I was. A clear lesson, if I needed it, and a reminder of the strong connection between the body and the mind.
As you can see, I cropped the image, and then added a couple of additional layers. One of the layers is a manipulated shot of moss; a rolling stone gathers no moss, but a depressed person slows down so much that moss is a distinct possibility. There is also a layer depicting a crack in a pavement, which seemed appropriate... depression often feels as if I am breaking.
This is the first in a series called 'Inside, Out', which I have been circling for some time now. Sitting down to stitch, today, I realised just how difficult it was to work on an image of oneself, particularly one which is attempting to depict depression. Obvious, huh? Well, yes, but the truly interesting thing was that once I'd started to work on it, and made the key decisions, I relaxed into it, and the image became exactly that...just another image to explore. I'm glad I started. I'm not entirely sure that I have finished, but there's time before the end of the challenge. Watch this space!
1 comment:
I often wish there was a button at the side of my head, that I could press and by magic a photo of what I've just seen will be saved for me. Usually by the time I've fumbled for a camera, played with the necessary buttons, the moment has passed. It's catching those elusive facial expressions that I love. My memory isn't the sort that allows me to transfer what I see into a painting etc. I need hard evidence! It's looking good, and is interesting to get a different interpretation involving emotions.
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