A sense of place is an important aspect of photography for me. It was the driving force behind my work in the high Arctic — what does it mean to reside in a place of extremes? Because there is a big difference between what you experience through visiting a location, and how you learn it by living there day after day after day. Absorbing the natural rhythm of a place through daily life is key to understanding your environment. The ownership people felt for Svalbard, even those who spent a mere two weeks there, was fascinating. The Arctic engenders a passion in people that has never been understood. Indeed, even though I am afflicted with “the Arctic disease” I can’t explain why or how it happened. it makes no sense to long for these barren, inhospitable places, and yet we do.
And now I am eight months into living in the Pacific Northwest again. North of Seattle, between the North Cascades and the Salish Sea. A place of estuaries and lakes, forests and fertile valleys. A small town, just under 10,000 people, connected by bridge to Camano Island which adds another 15,000 people. Most people here live rural lives in what was once a farming community. That is changing fast, and (as with Longyearybyen) the change is not welcome. Now, the primary employers are the health industry, serving a large number of retirees, and education. A significant number of people, and it is growing by 4% a year, commute to Everett to work, and some to Seattle. This town is becoming a suburb and it’s not a welcome change.
This is a very different place from the cities I’ve spent most of my life in, and certainly from Longyearbyen where I most recently lived. The question I’ve been asking myself is what does it mean to live here? What is this life going to look like? How do I grow into this place?
Photography is a way of exploring meaning. Using the same methodology I used on Svalbard — walking the same ground every day and examining what I see with a curious, critical eye I hope to get an understanding of what place means to me here, at this confluence of change. I’ve set rules for myself because structure supports creativity. The same walk (about 1.25 miles or 2km) every day, taking four photographs with my phone.
Going over the same ground increases one’s awareness of what’s around you. You look deeper because you have to. You notice small changes — how the light is different with the seasons and the weather. Four photographs because I remember how careful we had to buy when we photographed with film and only had 12 o 24 images we could make. We had to be sure what we photographed was meaningful. And with my phone because I want to use the common denominator camera that we all use. Easy. Portable. Convenient. Everyone with a phone is a photographer now, and their phone is their camera of choice.
The series will be Locality, four photographs once a day taken along the same stretch of ground. For those who remember the Daily Leaf, this is a close relative of that meditative work. And here are today’s four.
