Joshua Tree Sunrise
Amid an onslaught of setbacks you start holding your breath. You hold it in your body: the tautness of your shoulders, the tension between your brows. Your skin takes on a pallor that shocks you a bit when you look at yourself while you brush your teeth at night. Deep little lines form below your eyes that weren't there before. You are no longer grounded in emotions, but methodic and meaningless. Your sleep is dense but dreamless and you wake as if you never needed sleep at all. Not pleasant, but strange--it's a strange place to be. And you may not even know how much you're in it until you're given a chance to exhale.
Joshua Tree (and my trip to LA this April) was a little oasis in the tail-end of a tough year that I'm still not quite ready to say is free of its challenges. And still not able to process. So I'll save those stories for another time. This story is about being able to make again, create again--of finding inspiration in a place so foreign that in order to take in the expanse of it I had to release everything else and be so very very present. This story is about how friendship reminds you of who you are and how those you love can save you. That even when you have to turn so far inward to protect yourself, to take care of yourself, there will be so many that will be there waiting and wanting to help. They will forgive you for your isolation, for your self-focus, for your neediness and just be there. Because sometimes we just need to be there for someone--and there are many wonderful people in my life that were just simple there for me.
Scarlett was one of them. And this shoot was a celebration of that support, the freedom to create again, the expanse of possibility, a grounding in a purpose, and the return to that sweet feeling of waking up from a dream.
I'm starting to experiment with sound (interviews, ambient noise, music). The intention is for you to play the song above while enjoying the photos below!
| Shot on 120mm Portra 160 & Portra 400 |