Sunday, January 30, 2011

life & love shots

Jeff Patterson: Life & Love Shots, Vol. 1 & 2.

That's what I titled the two photo books that I made at Shutterfly a few weeks ago - and it was a fun project. I revisited so many memories as I sorted through pictures, uploaded them, edited and designed the pages. I saw old friends and co-workers. Family members, gone and far away. Places I used to live and wander. Moments in time I thought worth capturing. The books started with my first picture as a newborn, followed by pictures of my young parents, through school, my 20s, up to my crazy lookin' mug taken just a few months ago.

It's weird when you think about it how a lifetime, either remembered in photographs or imagination, can only be recalled in little slivers. A whole life: day after day, seconds, minutes, hours - each one composed of countless perceptions: light, colors, sounds, aromas, thoughts, tactile sensations. The number of words we speak and emotions that we feel in any given day. But when we look back, we have only available to us but scanty detail, compared with what we actually experienced in the moment.

But even with that the case, we're left with quite a story we can tell. The drama. The highs and lows. The bittersweetness. I remembered all of it these past weeks. For the most part I enjoyed it, but some of it still stings. The bright side is that now it only sting gently, almost imperceptibly so.

I've got the books on my shelf and I'm glad to know that they're there to visit again sometime. But not today or anytime soon. I have Now to engage in. But those pages are filled with people who helped bring me here and who came right along side. Dear, ugly, beautiful people that no longer exist. I love them all.


  1. The blog is very good!

  2. That definitely sounds like a worthwhile project that you stuck with and lovingly took the time gather and complete. I know what you mean though: I probably wouldn't look at them often either. The past is best visited, not made a permanent place for in the present. I struggle with that every day - how to be a vocal advocate for the Regressive form of Autism to be researched as a distinct condition from regular Autism, because that needs to be done, but without getting caught up in the emotions and regrets over what happened to Alex. It is a constant challenge and balancing act but I think it has made me better at juggling life's other balancing acts.