Dear L,

I love this line from your first post “It will become an experience which, I hope, supplies us both with many opportunities for incredible growth, questioning, challenge, and all the other amazing crap that art-making throws our way on a regular basis.”

So much has come up for me since we agreed to explore the topic of “where we feel at home”. I’m more at ease with “sense of place” then a “sense of place as home”.

As I told you in our first emails about the project – home is a tough topic for me. I’ve moved around quite a bit – both as a child and an adult. Even in the years that I’ve been back here in CT I have lived in about 5 different places and spent over a year traveling around the country to teach myself about photography. I’m really not sure where home as a physical space is for me. I spent six months in a sublet on the coast of Maine not too long ago and that place called out to me more than anywhere I’ve been in a long time. Anytime I connect with people I love – be that on the phone, online or in person – that space becomes home. We all know the saying “home is where the heart is” – and it’s true – and it’s everywhere we go.

The first pictures I took for this post were pretty ones. A blue Ball jar filled with white stones from a beach in RI – the afternoon light falling across it lazily. A cold fall morning – the leaves and grass-covered with a crispy dew. Then on a recent drive I came across this tobacco barn. It is old, abandoned and not always the safest place to be. I’ve photographed it many times.  I’ve even dragged people and objects here so I could photograph them in it.  I couldn’t resist stopping to explore.

Later that afternoon I drove by this old racket ball court. Not abandoned – thought it carries that vibe. It’s another place I used to come to on photo adventures so I made a few more images. The little boy was on the trail by the courts. He saw my camera – abandoned his bicycle on the path – and ran full speed towards me. He wanted to learn about the camera, take a picture, say cheese and never leave. I’ve included him here because I loved how at home in himself he was.

I realized in this process that I feel comfortable  in these falling down, architectural places. It’s not the emptiness that attracts me so much as the adventure of it. Knowing that maybe you’re not supposed to be there. Witnessing what others left behind. Feeling the spirit that still lingers. It makes me feel alive more than anything safe does.  I feel at home pushing the boundaries just a little bit and stepping outside of the box. It opens my eyes and helps to change perspectives – which is something we as artists are constantly striving to do.

That’s all for now. I’m looking forward to seeing your post today.

♥T

To see Lydia’s post from today click here.

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