you are what you love

On Sunday, we took winding side roads in the mountains searching for abandoned houses to photograph. I must have climbed eight fences; trespassing is such a thrill. The most difficult part was determining which houses were abandoned. There was one sprawling white house that we thought must surely be deserted, but as I peeked in a cracked window, I noticed that fresh spring water was sputtering into a rusty sink. The water didn't bother me, though; it was the smooth blue bar of soap next to it. (A bar of clean blue soap seems to be a definite sign that a person is living in the house.)

Someday I would like to find an entire neighborhood of abandoned houses. Wouldn't that be lovely? You could find all sorts of forgotten treasures and interesting windows.

This semester, I've begun to question what I really enjoy photographing, and I've recently decided that nature photography (at least, traditional nature photography) doesn't interest me. It's been done before and it is exactly what it seems. I prefer narratives, documentary - something with a story. Like windows. It bothers me to think I've spent so much time photographing nature when it doesn't interest me at all.

I've also been thinking about conversation lately. I've been taught that asking questions is the best way to engage someone, but I'm not sure that I agree. Some days I have really good stories to tell, or something interesting to say, but I don't want to launch into a story about myself, so I politely wait for a question. And, if the right question never comes, I just don't talk about what is on my mind.

(Some people deal with this by asking a question that they want you to ask them -- "Have you read any good books lately?" they will ask, not caring at all, but just dying to tell you about how terrific they thought The Fencing Master was -- but that seems like using the other person.)

I met a girl named Helen a few months ago, and she really impressed me because she volunteered stories and information about herself. Although she definitely asked open-ended questions and made an effort to engage others, she didn't quietly sit there waiting for someone to ask her a question. She spoke up. I wonder how many good conversations I have missed out on because I didn't ask the right question. I think that I need to be more comfortable just speaking about myself instead of waiting for someone to ask me what I think or what classes I am taking or what neat things I am doing. I know that I appreciate that in other people: not having to drag something interesting out of them. (And, of course, there is a balance. No one likes a person who dominates the conversation.)

This weekend, I received a letter in the mail that I had been expecting for more than three months. It came in a red envelope (as promised) and had Christmas stamps and a December postmark. I felt a little bit like Madeleine Wallace. (Twenty points to anyone who catches that reference.)

In other news, I am pleased to announce that David & I are collaborating on a photography project. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, we will post independently taken paired images to The Geminus Project. (We compromised on the name, and I'm just grateful that it doesn't reference space ships or the year of David's graduation.) So, you should probably look at it. And if you're really hip, you should subscribe via Google Reader.