My Own

During the coronavirus crisis, many photographers were among socially distant pictures of your neighbors, or images of the unusually empty streets where you live. But for some, it is not about the recording of The World , it is round, to create an image that captures their own experience of the last few months.

Here is a photographer Aletheia Casey talks about her series Dancing With the shadow.

A dog howling in the distance. A bird lies dead on the sidewalk. The Sound of a passing train echoed through the clean air seems to be Louder Now . It is a silence, an emptiness and a loneliness that I never in The City . The World seems to have been thrown into a Quiet Chaos , and The Future feels suddenly chaotic and uncertain.

The Flowers in my kitchen, in the dead, still sitting in their vase. If I arranged, florists, like Everything Else , were still open. I the transparent, delicate petals touch; a reminder of the fragility of human life.

The Trees outside burst into New Life , in contrast to the near empty streets below. In The Absence of people, pigeons and foxes The Streets again. A single masked figure walks, the only visible reminder that life is everything but normal.

I find respite from the fear of The Situation through photographic work. I cut into my negative, damaging and distorting them; they superimpose My Own grief and fear on the images.

I manipulate and reflect on disfigure of the photographs to The Way in which The Future seems distorted and dark, with shadow.

As time passes I become captured by revise pictures of scenes, when life was predictable and The Future is secure. I dissect and scrape the images, to separate and isolate the pieces of negative that lone sliver of cut pieces of film are sitting away from each other, separated, as I now feel separated from many of those I love.

I superimposed fragments of cut the negative on the upper side of the ink paintings made by my little son and I, while his school was closed, and I was his main companion.

The color from the images, the slow spots on The Film , and as it dries and cracks, it seems like a virus under the microscope, the spreading and the infection.

the loneliness creeps in under my Living Room door.

It is an unwanted guest, but I allow it to sit with me while I work, a silent companion. My Own rhythmic breathing is a soothing background for the production of these images.

Outside my window, a fragile Cherry Tree ablaze with delicate flowers. A few days later, The Flowers on the ground, As If in defeat, so that the patch are similar to the consequences of a lost battle.

Source of news: bbc.com