Wellness and Resilience: How do you keep your art form alive through Covid-19?

Over the course of the pandemic, I was brought back to the history of the camera. The word camera finds its heritage in the Latin camera, meaning a vault or a vaulted room. This year, we’ve spent more time in little rooms than anywhere else, a challenge especially for photographers who live their lives through a lens. Over the last few years, I averaged 5-6 shoots a month, which kept me moving on a frenetic line after my subjects and myself: book, shoot, edit, book, shoot, edit. I used the medium to explore cities, cultures, and climates. This year, I’ve done 5 shoots or so total. In today’s world, we are utterly inundated with images--we see more in a week than people saw in their lifetimes. This year, photography became ever more powerful and relevant (source: Zoom stock shares), as it became the only way to connect, to share our stories. We must remember that at the core of photography, we are sharing these private rooms with others, turning ourselves outward and inward. I kept my art form alive in this way, remembering the unique viewpoint everyone could offer, the specific room they held within the world. I’d take my camera out, and see the world anew:

In March and April, I walked through the emptied parks to take pictures of birds and trees. In May, I took pictures as outdoor dining picked up, drinks sloshing in the streets. In June, I saw my neighbors from folding their laundry line at a distance. I took pictures of a protest, documenting signs that will live on in history books. In July, I shot my roomate, a new friend adorned with flowers, in his chambre privé, close as we’d come. In August, I took photos of myself as I cut off two years worth of hair. In September, I took a picture of smoke cooling in the fresh air. In October, I took pictures of streets, littered with masks. Each time, I was reminded that we were sharing more than images, we were sharing our lives the only way we were allowed. It closed distances, showed truths, brought some small justices and exposed deeper injustices. So much of art is about understanding others and understanding ourselves. Remembering the human connection is the best way to remain resilient through strange times.