photography
Photography that showcases the best, worst and everyday moments of modern relationships.
In The Pockets Of the City
One of my favorite hobbies is, perhaps, a wee bit dangerous at times. On any given day (if it is not raining), I am probably wandering around Minneapolis looking for oddities to photograph. I am somewhat hampered by the fact that I do not have a car, but the Metro City Transit system helps out quite a lot, barring the occasional hiccup of getting lost. Scratch that. By now I am used to getting lost; I have learned to simply cross the street and catch a bus returning in the same direction I have just come from.
By Juliette McCoy Riitters5 years ago in Humans
"THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE" - A Photo Series. Top Story - March 2021.
It seems like some people like being IN a relationship more than they like the PERSON they are in the relationship with. I've thought about this idea lot. In watching friends and acquaintances come in and out of relationships. In analyzing relationships of my own. Something about that idea scares me. I want to whole-heartedly love the person I'm with--for who they are, not just what they do. I want to love them complexly, deeply, and authentically. I want to love them even more than I love holding hands or kissing goodnight.
By Oliver Dahl5 years ago in Humans
Development
I think social media knows what I want for my birthday better than my most of my loved ones, and I can't tell you if that's sad really, if anything at least it's convenient. Instead of scatter shot I tend to get a rather refined stream of ads interrupting my day, the lesser evil in a sense. Regardless, that's where I came across it. Lomography Metropolis 35mm, a perfect intersection of nerdy interest promising the look of the 1927 German, sci-fi film for which it was named and the inconvenient appeal of analogue photography. Less a want and more a need for your average pretentious student type, I think to myself justifying it as a course related purchase. I excuse away any thoughts to the contrary likely getting involved in a twitter debate that I had little stake in and any thoughts of reckless spending or any purchase were moved to the back of my mind alongside a distant deadline, only to be remembered when prompted externally.
By CitrineLemons aka R Leslie5 years ago in Humans
mercy, a film journal for the tender heart and mind.
So does the second time feel different? Definitely, that’s when it got real. the first time, I was like oh we bout’ to do this. She just kind of morphed into what I wanted life to be at the time. Cherish on the other hand, has shown me that I really have to create life around her. She’s like, “you not about to just get up and do what you wanna do, without really considering me.” With her I definitely had to slow down a little bit more than I wanted to, and really sit with the reality that she’s a baby and she has needs.
By bria lauren5 years ago in Humans
Follow Your Dream
The old school at the end of the cul-de-sac had stood empty for some time. No little feet ran through the gym, no laughter echoed in the classrooms, no smell of mildewing lunches in cubbies permeated the halls. It had been years since Bellshore Public had been a working elementary school. Now the vines grew across the outside of the old brick and cinder block walls. The windows were mostly all painted shut, and the doorways were covered with plywood, and some were chained with heavy iron locks. In the playground, the old play structures had weeds and shrubs growing around them, and were rusting from lack of care. Some of the walls had been tagged by local graffiti artists, and the concrete around the rest of the yard had heaved and buckled with time and the shifting earth underneath. The school was one of those buildings that had seemed to just always be there. The neighbors couldn’t remember a time before it was built, and now that it had withered with disuse, the community mainly pretended it wasn’t there -- an eyesore, but mostly an invisible one. Except for the urban explorers. They loved the school and all the antiquated items found inside. It made a perfect subject for their photography. They had found secret ways of getting inside, and once inside they skulked about snapping shots of torn basketball nets, piles of desks, mountains of old rotting textbooks, broken cubby hooks and just about anything else they could find that looked like “urbex art”. Seth Collins was one of these young urban explorers. Just shy of 22, and still living at home with his parents, he had taken a gap year to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, and while working shifts at a local photography shop, he discovered that what he loved was capturing a beautiful and original photograph.
By Mandy Albania Weiner5 years ago in Humans
Hartford Has "It"!
1: Where are you from? It was not until I left home, that I realized what “home” truly meant to me as a Black American. As an undergraduate student, in the summer of 2018, I studied abroad in Ecuador. While there a handful of students and I participated in a social entrepreneurship program that aimed to help local indigenous communities establish and launch international business ventures for community development, social good, and general self-efficacy.
By Princess Tay-Arjana5 years ago in Humans
Bendigo
It is a place of magic, my hometown. It’s like a photo album, filled with all of my memories that made a difference in my life. It all happened here. It is a place of magic, my hometown. It’s like a photo album, filled with all of my memories that made a difference in my life. It all happened here.
By Sarah Harris5 years ago in Humans
The Soken
There are so many things we know instinctively. No life lesson is necessary. No one had ever needed to tell me that humans are cruel to their own kind. No one had needed to teach me how to accept a punch in the playground, when I was outnumbered. I was five years old when my teacher told me I was dying, in front of everyone. Children do not know instinctively they might die, because they have not yet begun to live. I was eleven years old when the doctor at the hospital told me I was not dying anymore. There were a lot of people in that room, most of them student doctors. The style of delivery was self-congratulatory, and somehow crass. I did not know how I was supposed to react. I just blinked. My parents seemed equally perplexed. There was no explanation as to what my mysterious medical condition had been. No one claimed to have cured anything. Possibly because no one had claimed to have found anything wrong with me. I was going to live, and that was that.
By JoJoBonetto5 years ago in Humans
Hometown Growing
I came to my hometown in the year 2001 as a shy and feisty ten year old. I can still remember crying in my room of our new house, wishing I was with my good friends in my old city. We had been through a lot as a family at that time, and we were looking to have a new start and a better life. Like many, we did not have it easy and each of us had (and still have) our own traumas and life experiences that scarred us and shaped us into our being. We loved each other very much, but maybe were not equipped with the knowledge and tools to take care of our mental health.
By Nicole Horn5 years ago in Humans
The Land of Enchantment
Dulce, New Mexico, located on the Jicarilla Apache Reservation is where I called home for twenty years. I was born in Cheyenne, Wyoming, but when I was six months old, my parents relocated to Dulce. My father received a job offer from the tribe for an accounting position. Because my mother had been working in Cheyenne as a nurse, it was no trouble for her to find work in the medical field working for the Indian Health Services and later as the director of the EMT's.
By Robyn Moss 5 years ago in Humans
