Macro Moss and Friends

I hope this post finds you well. We should be in the deep throes of winter here in central Virginia but it's been a mild one so far. It's bittersweet to enjoy warmer days while knowing that the nice weather is being caused by detrimental climate change. I've been thinking a lot about our relationship with the Earth as humans, and how many of us don't view it as an actual "relationship."

I read Robin Wall Kimmerer's book Gathering Moss recently, a small collection of essays about Kimmerer's experiences as a bryologist, or moss scientist. Kimmerer is a member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation and brings to her research a mix of Western academia and Indigenous ways of learning. Many Indigenous peoples of North America believe plants (and all organic matter on Earth) are our ancestors, and should be treated as beings, not just resources. I highly recommend both Gathering Moss and her more famous book Braiding Sweetgrass for more on how we can better honor the land around us.

The other impact that Gathering Moss had on me was a profound desire to go outside and look very closely at moss. As a bryologist, Kimmerer goes into detail about the biology and processes of moss in the book, and I was fascinated to learn a small patch of moss is much like a whole forest in miniature. I Googled the price of magnifying loupes, and took a walk around my own neighborhood with a telephoto lens in hopes of capturing closeups of the tiny plants. Kimmerer says the abundant presence of moss in urban areas is a sign of good air quality, and in Richmond we have a lot. We also have a lot of lichen, the small plates of blue matter growing alongside and on top of the moss featured in many of these photos.

Lichen is not a plant and does not have roots, but still needs water to grow. Mosses are phenomenal at retaining water, their tiny little leaves acting in tandem as a sponge, which is why where you see moss, you often see lichen too. Some ferns, like the tiny one below, are epiphytes, plants that grow on other plants. In forests, ferns can be found growing on trees, and often attach to the moss on the tree as an anchor and water source. The baby fern in the below photo is likely rooted in the moss growing on this brick wall, an example of how moss is a vital part of the ecosystem.

This was my first real attempt at macro photography, and I am very pleased with how the shots came out. Even though my excursion was originally inspired by moss, I found myself more drawn to the pale blue lichen and also to these little petals of fungus growing from the tree bark. I had no idea what to expect when I sent the film off for processing, and was impressed by the minute detail my lens was able to capture.

There will definitely be more of this sort of thing to come, nature walks for closeup images of small bits of life. The images in this post were taken in the city (my city is admittedly very green, much greener than some others), but I plan to venture into more natural areas as well and see what I can find. If you’re interested in learning how you can forge a better relationship with the world around you, I highly recommend reading either of Robin Wall Kimmerer’s books mentioned here.

Thank you for reading, you’re beautiful.

Bang Bang

Another set from my impromptu New Years shoot with Amy. This was Amy’s wildcard look (see my previous post for more on the concept). I’ve been toying around with a Vivatar hot shoe flash that I bought on eBay last year—these are some of the first photos I’ve gotten processed using it, and I’m really happy with the effect. This’ll be a quick post text-wise; I’m shooting it off in the last ten minutes of my lunch break. Sometimes it’s hard to find time to do all the things I want to do. I work full time, and I’m writing a novel, and I have friends and meals to cook and laundry to do, and I go to the gym. Taking the actual photos is the least time-consuming part of my work with photography—I spend more time in the process of organizing and sharing that work, creating zines and this blog and compiling series and so much more. Every minute of our busy days is valuable, so I appreciate the time my readers spend visiting this space.

Photos taken on Kodak 200 film and Minolta X-700 camera. Thank you for reading, you’re beautiful.

Her Own and Better

Wintertime is often a time of hibernation for me. The sun sets too early for natural light photo projects after work, my clothes feel heavy and bulky. It’s cold (well, usually). I mostly want to veg out on the couch and binge bad TV. But when my good pal Amy, whom I hadn’t seen in awhile, texted me on New Years Day morning and said, “Wyd today? Was thinking we should have a shoot,” I got my ass in gear.

The idea was three looks for both of us: one Amy outfit, one Lydia outfit, and one wildcard. Often when Amy and I get together for a shoot, we wing it. We each have photographic pursuits that are more intentional—Amy is a queen of conceptual photography and meaningful portraiture, and I tend to focus on documentarian series. I think we tend to see photoshoots with each other as a time to play. We pick some interesting wardrobe, a location, and then just see what happens.

This first set is of the “Lydia” look. Have you ever hung an item of clothing beside another garment, just to put it away, and thought, Oh I should wear those together? I had that revelation hanging a romantic, blousy top beside a pair of light pink hot pants (gifted to me by Amy, incidentally) one day, and had been meaning to photograph myself in it. Amy took her cue from this ensemble and went pastel romantic in her own pair of the same hot pants and a cheeky bow tie tube top. We met at her house, draped a swath of pink Swiss dot tulle over a lamp in her living room, and set to work.

The photos in this post are primarily of Amy—she took her own set of pictures of me. There are a couple at the top featuring both us, photos I took using the cable release I mentioned in my last post. I think it’s a little unusual for Amy to portray herself so softly in photos. She like a bold aesthetic; she likes strength, and color, and lines. Pretty romanticism is definitely a Lydia lane, and I love seeing how my friend interprets this piece of me. These are some of my favorite pictures I’ve ever taken of her, and I’ve taken a lot. I love the muted light, and the way Amy brings an element of mystery to a set that could otherwise read banal. She elevated my original idea, and made it her own, and made it better.

I’m really bad at notating what film stocks I shot because I use so many, and haven’t gotten the negatives back yet to check, but this was either a Kodak 200 or 400, Gold or Ultra Max. Thank you for reading, you’re beautiful.