the first time i held this book in my hands at the bookstore, i thought, shit. this is going to change my life. i then proceeded to stand there, picking through it guiltily, before delicately placing it back in its place and forcing myself to forget about it. aha! i thought. i was not tempted! the devil did not get me to spend $35 on a new, signed hardcover!
a few weeks later, i ended up back at the bookstore for another event and then immediately folded when i saw that signed copy still sitting there. it took exactly two minutes of the same song and dance — cradling the book in my arms, reverently staring at the printed images inside, sighing dramatically to myself — before i manned (ha) up and hauled my ass to the check-out counter. i like to think that the universe got me to go to the event that i almost skipped just to make sure i bought this book.
i read half of sally’s first book a few years ago on audio (and definitely did not give it the attention it deserved, probably why i forgot to finish it), so i had some basic knowledge of her as a photographer, but in hindsight, i really did not know that much about her and her process. she’s known for her family photos — think Candy Cigarette — and her landscapes.
truthfully, i think the reason i was so called to this book was because it feels very archival. it’s mixed media, full of her photographs but also scans of her letters and handwriting, and something about it all reminded me of myself and my own process. it felt real and tangible in ways that other memoirs don’t. and when i sat down to actually read the words on the page, i felt like i was being given advice by a sweet, hilarious, rebellious mentor.
there’s a lot of insights in here, many of which are probably Typical and to be expected in an art self-help memoir, but what really made this so enjoyable and poignant was hearing from sally herself. she has such a strong voice, and it’s direct and to the point which is both candid and humorous. it really made me feel like i was talking with her over coffee.
the reason you read a book like this is not because it will definitely change your art practice. a lot of what she says is stuff i’m already doing or things i know i should be doing. she didn’t reveal some secret trick to photography, to having an art career, to being a better person. but something about reading the perspective of an older artist, someone who was born in the 50s (her birthday is the day before mine many many years before!) who lives a very analogue life as a result, really made me reconnect with myself and with art and with life. it recentered me knowing that this woman has lived decades as an artist, that she made mistakes and feels insignificant and struggles with art block, and yet she still is doing shit in her seventies. it made me think about my own life and art and practice, and it’s one of those rare books that seems to transcend time, like you can feel a much older version of you reaching back through the pages.
as a photographer, it was fascinating to dive into her processes, to see how she works and what she grew into, to read about her adventures (the story of her time in qatar was wild, and i GASPED at that one line)…in a lot of ways, i saw myself in her. in other ways, i marveled about how different we are as artists, as people, as two separate generations.
this is a book that will shape my thirties, but it’s also a book i hope to return to in the far off distant future, to see how my views have changed as i get older. to see if i ever figure out just what is at the core of my own art. i think i’m at a point in my life now where i am trying to break free of the hold that capitalism has had on my art, and i want to see just how far i can push it. or rather, just how much i can play with it. i think this book goes well with sontag’s on photography and even with brandon taylor’s minor black figures. the intersections between them are fascinating to explore.
i’ve been digging into personal analogue photography for the last five years, and it’s been so great getting to grow through that, but i did spend a lot of this book wondering at my writing art. there’s a chapter in here that’s about inactivity, about getting caught up in your life and Not making art for a while, and sally reiterated that sometimes those periods of inactivity are just as important as the periods when you’re making a lot of art. but i’ve spent so long not seeing my work as Art or “art” that now i’m not quite sure what i’m even doing. i know i am making art, i make art every single day, but what does it mean collectively? what is it saying? what am i building? questions to answer another day or in a lifetime.
sally is such a special person and a remarkable artist, and while i regret not getting to see her speak at the event i callously deleted from my email, i do not regret the $35 i spent at the bookstore to get her signed hardback (that i proceeded to scribble in and underline and utterly destroy…although i know she’d appreciate it).
"YOU ARE LOSING YOUR PAST EVERY TIME YOU DO IT THE EASY WAY"