Then I look at my monthly photo-archives of very ordinary local insects, pasture flowers, fall leaves, and always: the barn. It is certainly the most photographed structure in all of Floyd County, and almost all of those images are mine. But that’s okay, and by intention.
Almost five years ago I heard the story of a New York City photographer who became disabled to the extent that he was not able to leave his room. His room, fortunately, was on the fourth floor of an apartment building that bordered Central Park. But his passion for capturing the everyday scenes of his life didn’t end. He continued his career for several years, growing where he was planted, taking thousands of images from his window–of people passing by on the sidewalks below, of snowfalls on treetops in the park, of light reflected from the windows of the building across the way, even of pigeons on his windowsill. That story of immersion in the close-at-hand resonated with me that winter.
And six months later an empty page of time opened in my life when I left my profession not knowing what would come next; and I remembered this story. Even if I don’t leave the house every day and see no other people but the mailman on his rounds, I told myself, there is a world of color and form here in this valley–easily enough to keep my camera and eye, mind and heart filled with good images to contemplate and to share.
And prominent among those images, the barn. It is an illusory symbol of permanence here. The house is much changed since we first saw it in 1999, with a new front porch, new windows, foundation, a paint job, and now the Annex. The house has been “improved” and it shows to anyone who knew the house in its earlier incarnation.
But the barn would have looked just the way it does now at the time my grandmother was born. And this old structure hewn from logs cut on these hillsides puts the human lives lived here into the beauty of the natural landscape in a way that I find comforting, and visually satisfying–to draw the eye to its unnatural straight lines in contrast to the pleasant curve and chaos of nature.