Dear hopeful reader,
The phenomenal photographer Diane Arbus once said, “A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know.” And I couldn’t agree more. Any time I look at pictures, especially with conceptual or abstract ideas, I don’t always know what’s going on. But I’m intrigued and moved. They share visual stories, and secrets behind those stories, and more secrets behind what went on during the day they were captured. Although I would love to know more about them, I also appreciate not knowing everything, that there’s some mystery left to the imagination. The enigma stimulates the mind, galvanizes one’s own creativity.
In my early twenties, I used to take photographs a lot—of me, of family, of friends, of pets, of weirdlings, of everything around me. It was cathartic and healing to me, when my heart, mind, and soul were constantly restless. I created portrait series too. They told stories. (Perhaps someday I’ll share them with you, if you’re interested.) I still take photographs, but not as often. My body is rarely in sync with my soul, so it’s been more difficult for me to do the things I love for many years now, with all the aches and weariness that compound each day. Doing anything feels like climbing a steep mountain while being submerged in sinking sand. But I digress.
Also read: Obligatory post-Soviet couch photo and other pictures of mini me
One of my latest portrait series is titled “Chiaroscuro,” assisted by my dear husband. The photographs are composites. They play with lights and shadows. They tell a story of a being risen from waters, made strong from fog and flames. They’re aimed to be exorcising and untethering and grounding. And anything else an eye can see and the mind connects.
As February is leaving, with it the blues and cold, I wish to be able to capture the rebirth and growth of nature as much as possible in the upcoming months. Our land too has stories and secrets to tell.
Do you take photographs or make art? Please share your work with me!
Yours hopefully,
Nadia
I love "weirdlings" gorgeous photos too
Lovely photos, "weirdling" indeed, what a great word - they remind me of an effect I tried to describe in my novel the painter MC used, painting reflections on widows and the images through the glass as well...