I began taking photographs to remember when I saw things I wanted to try to draw later. Because of this, my phone is full of photos that maybe don’t make sense, but which represent something to me which was, at the time, transcendent. A color, a particular tenderness in the way a plant was situated, or maybe a habit of growth I found appealing.
As time went on, I wanted more to capture feelings of a place, not just small details for later use.
I’ve never been into trying to capture memorable moments. I have a few snaps of birthdays and events which I’ve taken out of a vague sense that it’s my job, but mostly I forget because I’m busy kind of, well, living it.
It seems, though, that photos of feelings and little details can be as evocative for me as those of a person or an event. They’re a catalog of my minutes, and far more meaningful to me than I expected they would be when I took them.