Prologue:
The Mark of the Migratory
There is something inherently gothic and romantic in the American South. I grew up on flat red clay stretched into coastal plains under which untold numbers of marred soldiers, stripped slaves, and pocked indians leaked into the soil. The land, the region, is at once idyllic and incriminated, quaint but threaded [...]
This is the first physical manifestation of a photograph for which I am entirely responsible: I took it, I processed the negatives, I enlarged it, printed and developed it. It is very satisfying to finally, finally learn this skill in its entirety! One small step for man, one giant leap for Whitney.
For a reference to my First Memoir Writing Assignment, as well as the accompanying disclaimer, click here.
“The Migration”
We left like unpracticed bedouin. A naturally introspective child, I said goodbye to almost no one, but, instead, walked from the Bradford Pear, to the Mimosa, to the Willow, and Pine. They had been the stakes of my [...]
Writers have no ethics, if by ethics you mean respect for the lives and truths of others, and if by respect you mean leaving them alone, and if by leaving them alone you mean not ever seeing them as material. Words are a currency and the lives of others an entire economy. How [...]
This is the roll of color film that I took at the Folklife Festival in DC. I am still waiting for my Pro Black and Whites to be processed, as well as all of my 120 film from the Diana+. These things take extra time and effort, but should be worth it (I hope!). Although [...]
See my first reflection on the Butterfly Gardens (which sadly yielded no photos).
Successful author and surgeon Sherwin Nuland, has a presentation on ted.com about his own battle with depression and his rehabilitation via electroshock therapy. I’m not so interested in electroshock therapy, but there are moments in which his testimony about his experience broke through to me, and spoke for me, so clearly that I wept. He’s [...]
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