If you find this image a bit disorienting, welcome to my current state of being.
If you are a regular reader, you know that my husband and I are in the middle of moving…and nothing feels ‘normal.’
So it won’t surprise you that somehow, on June 7, the day after I posted Walking With Grief, I discovered that my camera had been mysteriously reset to “Toy Camera Mode.”
While I’ve heard of this effect and was drawn to the vignetting and tones, it was weird and disconcerting and because I’ve never used it I had absolutely no idea how to turn it off.
Exposure #1: I don’t know how to use all that my camera offers. I’ve had this FujiFilm100F for 5 years and have been content using it’s simple, classic, core features. Why would I explore every menu if doing so just overwhelmed and made me feel like what I was doing wasn’t enough?
Since I was on my morning walk, though, and had no access to a ‘help’ menu, I went on my way and played. The results were kind of cool, but not really what I was looking for.
So after a few YouTube tutorials, I was able to turn this feature off, though in all honesty I have no idea how to turn it back on, and will need to review said YouTubes.
And, surprise surprise, in the process, I found the shortcut for going from Still Image to movie or, cooler than cool, the Double Exposure option, a thing I’ve been curious about but have never been compelled to try…until now when that silly Toy Camera mode led me down this path, and, well, here we go…
Because what I love more than anything right now, is a good distraction from this ‘go-go-move’ mode…
…and since double-exposures necessitate being mindful of which two scenes might play well together, I have to slow down…and focus on the colors, textures and shapes of what is in my garden at this moment.
And the results have been intoxicating, my passion for life’s layers made visible.
How cool to add texture to this pebbled path meandering through the rhubarb or to invite a fern frond to hang out with Fothergilla leaves!
It was particularly odd, though, that I should make this ‘double exposure’ discovery just a few days before returning to Milton Academy, in Milton, MA, for my 40th high school reunion…1
High school was a mixed experience (I know, this is not news), filled, in fact, with more trauma than joy, but there were some powerfully meaningful moments, including diving into photography…
…and, I’d been invited to give a talk about what our school motto, Dare to be True, meant to me.
Exposure #2: What was I thinking submitting a proposal on our school’s motto? To me, the motto is way overdone and my goal was to re-frame it, focusing not on Daring (too much of a challenge and all about bravado) and Truth (too abstract and open to interpretation), but on those two small pesky words in the middle, To Be.2
Nerves already on edge, the weather gods rained havoc, causing dramatic ‘ponds' on the interstate and detours through city streets.
Camera in hand, however, this extended and stressful trip became a source of entertainment.
Especially when I remembered to practice with my ChapStick…So fun to see it float and to play with proportion.
Because before I left, I’d photographed an example of my early ‘work’ from 1983.
In this double exposure I used two images created separately in my dorm - - The ChapStick was photographed on the study hall floor; The car and driveway framed by the window of that same room.
The two negatives were then placed on top of each other in the dark room and given life on a piece of photosensitive paper.
How could I not try to re-create this early masterpiece?
Sadly, the building was locked and the study hall windows blocked by shrubs. But, if there’s one thing that’s true about Milton people, they are persistent. So…
ChapStick on driveway - - perfect.
ChapStick on driveway now framed by window in the dining room - - good enough.
And so began the weekend. Locked out of buildings, but making meaning and new memories all the same.
I’ll share a link to the video of my talk when it’s made available, but for now, let’s just say that compost played a huge role, as did some props I used 40 years ago for a different kind of presentation I had made my senior year.3
So many textures and layers. Always.
And this reflection, like many I’ve made over the years, but special, somehow, because I liked what I saw…not a feeling I had four decades ago.
And check out those cool jeans?
The reunion felt like one continuous double exposure - - the me of then and the me of now, together.
This tree, whose shade invited conversation with friends in the spring and whose shadows were subjects for numerous photo students, stands quietly, bearing witness.
A layered pause.
So here I am, exposed and vulnerable in this place called Substack where we are all just trying to make sense of the world and our particular places in it.
It’s not much different from high school, really, where there are stars and stumblers, cliques and loners.
Perhaps that’s why I’m here…to be part of a learning community where it’s OK to not know how to use every tool at hand and where it’s OK to show up and try.
Because, really, it would be so boring if we all knew the answers. If we did, there would be no room for conversation and curiosity.
Anyway, if you’ve let yourself be vulnerable recently, please share.
I’d love to hear about your experiences.
There is beautiful about this accidental discovery of an entirely new way of visualizing my experiences.
If someone had said “Lyn, you should try double exposures…blah blah blah…” I probably would have ignored them, content with what I was doing. But fate ensured otherwise, so Lilly and I continue with our days, taking walks, taking care of each other and exploring opportunities for new and different double exposures.
As the summer heat reaches new records in the Northern Hemisphere, may you find respite here, where vulnerabilities and new discoveries abound, always with tons of love.
Thank you, for sharing this time and space with me.
With cheers and gratitude for you being you,
Lyn
As you may know from an earlier post on my college class reunion book, The Red Book, reunions are not generally my thing. This year, though, after the death of one our classmates last fall, I was drawn to reconnect with this diverse group of energetic and creative people…Perhaps I’m finally in a place where I won’t be intimidated by them?
When the video version of this talk becomes available, I’ll share it with you. My first such ‘Ted-Talk’ like experience, it went remarkably well and I am motivated to give more such talks!
In 1984 I used BB’s to represent the nuclear fire power that existed at that time (I know, I have a habit of thinking big); in 2024 I used BB’s to represent the 13 tons of compost I processed in 13 years. And so began a discussion about the facade of bravado and the powerful real-ness of being real…and the importance of coming at our lives from a place of caring, kindness and love, not fear.
These are fantastic photos. Wildly compelling. And yes— deliciously disorienting.