Playground 11

I went to this play­ground to try and know myself. It was 2006 and I lived 500 yards from this school. One day, with­out think­ing much about it, I went in and took pic­tures. A few months later I went again, and that was it. I didn’t plan the project, but as I made the pic­tures, I knew I was walk­ing back­wards in one way and see­ing the future at the same time. I could feel it. More than mem­ory. I was know­ing me now by being around these child­hood toys. The cam­era tilted because I would often tilt my head left and right when I was a kid – made things funny. But I also remem­ber won­der­ing how my brain made every­thing seem right side up even when I was look­ing at it upside down. That’s a good trick. The cam­era blurred when I remem­bered squint­ing hard enough to make every­thing kind of sparkle – the lights all stretched out. I won­dered how my eyes could actu­ally make a movie of the world in my head.

As a kid I used play­grounds to dis­cover how things worked and how it felt to move my body. Kick­ing harder on the swing makes momen­tum. I had no word for it but I felt it. Spin­ning on the merry-go-round made me feel high. My par­ents called it dizzy…

When I went back and..remembered is not the right word…relived or re-felt all these expe­ri­ences it some­how enhanced the mean­ing to who I am now. I look at things still. I won­der about how things work, and I am curi­ous. I guess I am the same per­son I always was, but recon­nect­ing with the young me helped me feel more like all of me is here now. Can you explain that?

Bend, OR 2006, Nikon D100