On Longing

"The Bean" - Chicago, IL (2016)

"The body is the primary mode of perceiving scale." 

          The summer before I started college, I went on a trip to Chicago, IL with my best friend, Phoebe. Why would we go to Chicago? To see our role model, Kelly Nicole Long, finally graduate as a "Master of Fine Arts." At the age of 32, Kelly received her certificate from SAIC. She was my high school art teacher and always believed in me even when I didn't (she still does!). She has played a very significant role in my life and was the one that pushed me to pursue my own degree in fine art. 

          One of the most important things you have to see when you go to Chicago is The Bean. For starters: it's very easy to underestimate the actual size of this oddity. As Phoebe and I stood beneath it, we took in just how big it actually was. When you look directly up,  the entire dome is an optical illusion. The reflection that is seen in the photo was not what we were seeing at all, but rather a swirl of metallic nothingness. It's mind-bending. 

The Mona Lisa - Paris, France. (2017)

"Capacity of objects to serve as traces of authentic experience." 

          Ever since I was a child, I had always wanted to see the Mona Lisa. I've dreamt of going to Paris and walking down the long avenues, browsing little shops and eating "exotic" food. It never occurred to me that actually going to Le Musée du Louvre would happen. The possibility of me, the girl who doesn't like change, travelling across the world just to see a painting seemed impossible. However, when I found out that we would be going to Paris during our trip to France, I was ecstatic. 

          If it isn't clear in the picture, I was totally geeking. I genuinely cried when I walked into the room where the Mona Lisa is exhibited. It was a childhood dream come true as I stood in front of it (after having pushed my way through a tightly packed crowd of 50 plus bodies...). If you go to France and do not see the Mona Lisa, did you really go to France? 

SAIC Graduate Exhibition Gallery - Chicago, IL (2016)

"The souvenir reduces the public, the monumental, and the 3D into the miniature, that which can be enveloped by the body." 

          The idea behind this particular photo being reminiscent of this quote is that this was an installation in the graduate gallery of SAIC that was intended to block out the public. It was a small tent made out of sheer fabric and wood that filled with white pillows. On those white pillows were two headsets that had a continuous recording of a conversation between two people about controversial topics. To me, this memory serves as a mental souvenir of an experience that nobody else but Phoebe and I can recall. It was a very personal moment between her and I that sparked a conversation between us on the same issues discussed in the pre-recorded conversation. The tent was made in a way that allowed sensitive issues to be debated in a comfortable and tranquil environment. It encapsulated us so that we felt alone, even though we were surrounded by numerous graduates and their family members. 

Hot air balloons - Libourne, France (2017)

"Nostalgia cannot be sustained without loss." 

          The backstory to this particular situation is necessary before I delve into the meaning behind the photo. 

          My boyfriend, Caméron, is a dual citizen. He is both French and American. For the first 4 years of his life, he lived in the United States and attended American schools. For the following 14, however, he resided in France with his family. He does not have a small family: of two brothers and two sisters, Caméron is the eldest. A few months after he turned 18, Caméron's mother and father decided it would be best for him to stay in the States for a bit in order for him to "refine his ways of behaving." Prior to his "return" to the U.S., he had been a bit of a problem child. Fast-forward to now: Caméron has been living in the U.S. for almost 2 years alongside myself. He misses his family more than words can describe. When your entire immediate family lives across the ocean with a six-hour time difference, you are bound to feel homesick. When you are absent for most of your younger siblings lives, they tend to forget who you are or reject you. Hearing that his little sister had told his mother that Caméron was no longer her brother was devastating. Watching him cry was even worse. Although leaving France was for the betterment of Caméron as a person, he has sustained some emotional damage from his siblings. 

           But aside from these saddening feelings, Caméron often reflects on the positive times he had with his family before his departure. He loves talking to his siblings when he can, and when we were there, he did everything he could to devote nearly all of his time to them. He is an incredibly dedicated older brother. 

          This photo was taken during our first trip to Paris from Bordeaux -- a six hour car ride with his entire family of 7. As we passed through Libourne, we saw that there were a dozen or so hot air balloons floating in the sky. This, to me, was the first moment where we all began to bond. This was a conversation starter for us, making the car ride a lot easier for me. 

          As our trip came to and end, I found myself crying at the idea of leaving them behind. I knew that this was, for Caméron, like leaving home. It felt as if I was leaving my own family, when in reality I was the one who was going home. Our three week trip to France made me feel like a part of the family (something that I didn't think I'd be able to feel given that I am across the world from them.) Nostalgia is most definitely something that cannot be sustained without loss. 

Leucate Plage -- Le Barcarès, France (2017)

"To have a souvenir of the exotic is to possess both a specimen and a trophy." 

          The photo itself is not a souvenir, but rather what happened soon after this photo was taken. Le Barcarès is nestled on the coast of the Mediterranean ocean near the border between France and Spain. For starters, I've never seen an ocean that wasn't the Atlantic. That was very exotic to me. We had decided to climb down the cliff (picture above) to get to the beach down below. I am extremely clumsy and managed to fall just as we had begun our descent. I managed to skin my entire knee in one fall, making the next few days difficult to walk. It's been about 2 months since then and I still have a red mark on my knee from that day. Whenever I look at it, I am reminded of this picture.