neighbours project journal #1

When I started this blog a few days ago, I told myself I wouldn't blog about anything to do with photography. Already I've decided to break my own rule. I really want to keep a journal of some of my photo projects and my impressions of the people I photograph and how I work with them. I even bought a little notebook for that purpose. But I hate handwriting. I can type fast enough to keep up with my thoughts, mostly, and I like being able to go back and edit as I go. Neither of those things are possible with handwriting. A blog seems the ideal place to record these thoughts. But I'm not ready to put that out totally publicly, under my real name, especially where the people I'm currently working with might read it. Not that I'm going to say anything bad about them or that I want to hide it from them, it's just that I don't want them knowing my inner thoughts until I'm finished the project. I worry that could interfere with it somehow. So here I go.

On Thursday I photographed B0b and G1adys (I love her name! For everyone else I will use pseudonyms but I can't resist sharing these real names). When I first knocked on their door to pitch my project and see if they were willing, it seemed like an impossibility. B0b said no right away, citing his invalid wife as one reason it couldn't happen. But he kept talking to me, and when he asked for more details about which house I lived in, he said, "Not The Forest?!" Clearly he'd noticed our lawn-mowing slack. He's a retired turf management and soil science professor, so it goes without saying that his lawn is an immaculate emerald carpet. Of course, most of the lawns in this neighbourhood are.

Anyways, I loved the little interchange we had, and his wry sense of humour. So I asked if I could take his number, let him talk to his wife, and call him in a few weeks. I left feeling like I *really* wanted to work with them and sad because it clearly wouldn't happen.

But when I phoned like a month later, he invited me over and we talked and they agreed and we set up time. B0b kept saying things like, "We may not be around for very long," and "What if we sell the house in the middle of the project?" (My answer to both was that we'd all just have to deal.)

So here's the thing. It's really weird going into people's houses for the explicit purpose of looking at their space, their belongings and them. Every time I raise my camera to my eye, I'm aware of them watching me look and of them thinking about why I'm photographing this particular thing or scene. This is the fourth neighbour's house I've done this in, and every time I've felt uncomfortable and weird. I suspect it's just a matter of time, that I just need to get to know them and them me, before we're all square.

On Thursday, when I arrived, Bob had just picked a big bowl of cherry tomatoes from his garden. He grows beets, potatoes, cucumbers, beans, and a few varieties of tomatoes. Most of the flower beds in his backyard are filled with annuals. When I mentioned that I'm more of a perennial fan myself, he called me on it, "Well, they're a lot less work." Yes, that's probably why.

Anyways, we went into the house, and G1adys was still in the bathroom. He started to clear the lunch and tea things from the kitchen counter and I started shooting here and there. I started to photograph the food scraps in his sink, because I liked the juxtaposition of them against his ornate china teapot, but that was when he spoke up. "I just don't understand what the output of this project will be. And how do I know this isn't a scam? I mean, seniors are vulnerable." And "How do I know you're not doing a story about the bad housekeeping in seniors' homes?"

That last one made me laugh, because my house is way, way messier than any of the neighbours' homes I've been in. In fact I'm quite intrigued by their order and tidiness.

I was actually really glad he spoke up. It gave me a chance to lay my cards on the table more fully and to sort of confess to the conflict I feel. I admitted that photography can be exploitative, and I feel the weight of representing others. But I also just really like doing it, so I try to do it in the least harmful way. I also told him that I photograph my own home and family in exactly the same way; I don't shy away from showing my own mess.

So we cleared the air, and then I had free range to wander around and photograph them and their home in their daily routine. I think it is partly the result of that conversation that I felt totally comfortable there. Also the fact that I genuinely enjoy them as people. He's wry and cantankerous but obviously soft-hearted. He does all the cooking and had just baked a peach pie with a crumble topping from scratch. She needs a walker and is legally blind. She has lots of equipment to accommodate her visual impairment. She also projects this sort of unflappability in her soft-spokenness. Oh yeah, and they're Mas0ns. She belongs to the 0rder of the E@stern St@r, and is very passionate about it. He's a bit more disillusioned about the Mas0ns. Says they don't seem to do much good in either of their three tenets: brother love, relief and truth.

When I left he gave me a quart of the cherry tomatoes he'd just picked and a fresh field cucumber. They are delicious. I just feel so fortunate to be getting to know them and have them as part of my project.

On Monday, I photograph J0an, whose husband is in a home with stroke dementia and who lives alone in the house they built together 50 years ago.