To a place I have missed...

There is a sensation that jolts my brain and makes the gears up there turn quickly and my heart beat faster. It comes from a spark, an urgency, a need to express something unnamed. It is the thrill I felt when I told my stories with my books in 1999 or spent hours in the darkroom that one semester. I have alluded to this feeling and time in previous posts, always as a past memory. This week I have been fortunate to feel it again in the present.

For the last few days I have been telling a story in photographs on blipfoto and each day a new image is created on the spot and this thrills me to no end. This has been a multi-leveled experience for me as I merge pieces of my past, my childhood and family with ideas from painting, films and spontaneous play. All of this coming together to take me somewhere I have never been. It feels like a warm current pulsing through my skin when I even think about this. I have been completely outside of myself, creating a new world and characters. The usual sensibilities of my usual brain have been safely thrown out. In this story I can be anyone or anything, I can assume a character, a place, a time period or even an idea. The people that view the story are very much included in this process as they bring their own back story and spontaneous ideas into the mix.

I am not a photographer and that in itself is wonderful and freeing.
I am simply going on adventure to a place I have missed.

Today I want to take you there as well...


The Ocean's Story...
Here's where the story ends...



And this is where it starts...

It is quiet like a library
let's just hide behind the stacks for a while
and see what happens...

In between days...

Sh... no words are needed now..
We just wait.
We now have the key to the outside
but are we willing to use it?

Intermission...

We used the key
We went outside
We found a house
and here we are
listening to sounds...

Underwater...

We found a bed
We slept for days
We grabbed our things in a hurry
We forgot the key...
and the music keeps playing.

We should not have looked back...

We kept running all night.
and here we are again
but a page has been turned
the flowers have wilted
and what is there in the coarse salt of the ocean?

but a tiny key...



all images © megan chapman 2009
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