I’m on the Beirut Airport wi-fi waiting for my flight to Istanbul on my way back to Seattle, seeing if I can post these double-exposures I made with @christine.bingham.art and @night_bydesign. Christine and I took the first exposure in Bellingham, which is the same city I took a first exposure the last time I did a film swap like this. It was around Thanksgiving, so we were still reeling from U.S. politics, which probably informed our vague concept. A lone soldier, a ghostly presence; and with Audrey’s lush exposures in Volunteer Park, an added layer of camouflage and obfuscation, perhaps. Maybe some hope?
“In the Borderlands
you are the battleground
where the enemies are kin to each other;
you are at home, a stranger,
the border disputes have been settled
the volley of shots have shattered the truce
you are wounded, lost in action
dead, fighting back…”(Gloria Anzaldúa)
It’s wild to me to be going on as normal, taking my pretty pictures and posting my little thoughts, as the whole country is being turned upside down by the billionaire revanchist takeover. It’s like jet lag, only deeper.
Jacobin Magazine compares the current administration’s shock and awe tactics since taking office to Mark Zuckerberg’s mantra ‘move fast and break things,’ and that sounds about right. And while it’s frightening to think that the world’s biggest bully is being run like the world’s saddest dweeb, Jacobin also points out that this approach opens up a lot of avenues for pushback and “counterattack;” the bluster and aggression doesn’t necessarily translate to resilience or strength. I hope they’re right.
“To survive the Borderlands
you must live sin fronteras
be a crossroads.”(Gloria Anzaldúa)
It’s going to take a lot of work; maybe everything we’ve got. They say that’s the theme of the Year of the Snake: growth, transformation, being wise as serpents. For me personally, I’m seeing calls to cultivate patience, strategic thinking (as opposed to impulsiveness), and deeper connections, which I think is good advice for the whole collective, tbh.
How do we balance spontaneity with calculation? Urgency with deliberation? Wide reach with meaningful relation? We’re going to need both to make it through the coming conflagration.
“We are ready for a revolution. Like a serpent about to shed its skin, we are experiencing the anguish that accompanies transformation. … The struggle has always been inner, and is played out in the outer terrains. Awareness of our situation must come before inner changes, which in turn come before changes in society. Nothing happens in the ‘real’ world unless it first happens in the images in our heads.
Though we tremble before uncertain futures, may we meet illness, death, and adversity with strength. May we dance in the face of our fears.
The pull between what is and what should be, between the old and the new, between tradition and change, between insecurity and confidence, is an ongoing struggle. But in the end, we cannot remain neutral. We must act. And we must move forward with courage, knowing that transformation is painful but necessary.”
(Gloria Anzaldúa, ‘Borderlands/La Frontera’)
“Nothing’s permanent,” says the graffiti in the last slide. Everything is in flux. And part of growing up is learning when to let go. I probably struggle with that more than the average bear. But I’m seeing the changes stick; I’m learning to need less “control” (always a false promise). I guess you need that when doing film photography—and even more so, in a film swap. I haven’t quite attained the levels of non-attachment I probably need. But I’m getting there and it’s better than it was.
We’ve often gone up to Bellingham for long-weekend breaks, but the main reason we were here over Thanksgiving was to take photos at the Peace Arch Park on the U.S.-Canada Border. The strange liminality of this place seemed to fit the vague concept I had in mind; something between hardness and softness, difference and sameness, fear and safety, reality and utopia, etc. The themes carried through in the actual experience of being there too: I kept wondering out loud to Christine: “wait, are we in Canada right now?” It wasn’t always clear. But we definitely could tell when we were in the United States. The looming presence of border police on our side of the borderless border was very palpable.
I didn’t expect the theme of uneasy coexistence to carry through visually as well! Completely by chance, Audrey used a Canon EOS-1V while I used a Nikon N60; I love how the longstanding rivalry between these two camera systems is visible in the harsh juxtapositions of the rewound frames.