I’ve been struggling wondering how to write about my experiences in Detroit a couple weeks ago. There was so much that was overwhelming about the trip that no words I come up with seem to do it justice. There were layers of experience too, so in essence there are several trips about which to write.
On one level it was a wonderful visit to spend time with two lovely women I’ve come to adore through photography; to discover that we three were able to spend an entire week together with the greatest of ease and comfort; to learn more ways in which each of these women are generous, kind, beautiful people; to meet many new photographers and friends. It was an opportunity to connect with a powerhouse of a woman who shares very similar ideas about self-portraits and taking them in abandoned locations. It was a week when I could do nothing but enjoy photography and companionship with people who wanted to do the same.
It was a week for me to explore self-portraiture and immerse myself in the decaying environments that call to me so strongly; and for me to work on pushing past my hang-ups and try to say something meaningful.
Seeing all the raw decay for myself was powerful and eye opening. It felt like walking around in a strange dream state where nothing was quite real or rather, like a hyper reality. Every single street in and around Detroit is cavernous in its emptiness. There are whole blocks with only one house standing, whole neighborhoods of empty buildings. It feels like a future that is not too far off and it buzzes on the surface of the skin. It echoes in the spaces of the heart.
But above all that, it was also a time to recognize the hope and raw creative talent that is continually arising out of the ashes that is Detroit. There is a thriving art community of young(er) people who want desperately to reinvent the city, and they are working at it tirelessly. There are communities turning decay into art and empty lots into literal gardens. I waited to watch the BBC documentary Requiem for Detroit until I returned so that I wouldn’t be colored by it’s commentary and discovered that they communicate so very well my thoughts and impressions while there. I strongly encourage you to take the time to watch it (it’s just over an hour long) when you can.
It was an incredibly prolific trip for me, photographically (artistically). I took some of the best photos I’ve yet to take during my time there and I immediately began thinking about returning. I will be creating at least one if not two collections of images into book form and offer up prints for sale for the whole purpose of paying for another trip out there.
Here is an attempt at a free form poem I scrawled when I was struggling to write about my trip, following an embedded slide show of my Motor City set on Flickr. There are a large quantity of self-portraits that will not be viewable to you if you do not have a Flickr account (you can get one for free) because of the safety filters. If you have an account, you can turn off your safe search or at least get to see a fuzzy image you can click through to see the real one, otherwise you wouldn’t know you are missing anything.
post-apocalyptic daydream
my surrealist amusement park driven into ecstasy
as a thousand shutter clicks go pop
up into the atmosphere of smoke and ruin
a million wishes for better days
a million images for better ways of living
and
dying
and
getting through
these shattered illusions are now nothing
but empty streets
and
empty sleeps
no more dreams only nightmares
of what is most certainly to come
for our cities
for our homes
for our countries
and
our roads
and most especially
for our bodies
and whatever else is left
our children
take the remains
and
grow
