Photo Essay - Blog 4

This is my community. It is where I commune. It is the common space, but--to me--there is nothing “common” about it. It is where I live. Sleeping and dressing takes place in my bedroom, academics and such take place in my den, but the living takes place in the living room. There is not much in the room, but there is enough to understand much about how I live. 

Here it is. I don’t know that guy on the floor. He was just there--we’re very welcoming to transients.

The most comfortable couches I’ve ever owned. Also the only couches I’ve ever owned.

These are my children. Aren’t they beautiful. The Johnson on the right is the first guitar I ever bought, and has a special place in my heart. The majority of my heart, however, belongs to the Ibanez on the left.

Look at her. She wears a sexy flamed maple top and sides. Her solid mahogany neck leads right to her abalone rosette. She arches her back to better resonate the harmonious tones she creates. 

And here is the perfect companion for my baby. It fills the room and massages your eardrums with the warmest of amplified acoustic ambiance. 

That Xbox has been sitting there for over a year. It has never once been plugged in.

A small sampling of my blu-ray collection. You can't borrow them, but all are welcome to come and enjoy a viewing.

This is a TV.

I didn’t think that taking pictures of my living space would have any effect on me. I spend a great deal of time in that room. Many blessed memories--and some debaucheries--have taken place there. It is my home. However, after photographing it in an attempt to capture it’s character, I realized how vain the attempt was. Looking at the photographs makes it seem so static and antiseptic, lacking character. To me, it’s not just a living room, it is a room that lives. There is always something going on, and capturing it in its naked state feels exploitative. When you look at the photos, you see things. When I look at them, I feel things. It’s aesthetics versus emotions. Thus, it is difficult for me publish these photos, simply because they do not due justice. They are a facade. But, here they are anyway. These are my things, this is my living space.