![title: so much for so long.
photo: party crashers
song: 13th floor elevators — may the circle remain unbroken.
‘we don’t see things as they are; we see them as we are.’ - anais ninpain is an amazing thing, really. obviously it’s terrible in a lot of ways; it’s difficult and it’s too close for comfort and its long-term effects take too long to process. some pain is fresh and some residual and some — more than we like to acknowledge — lasts forever. pain is a beautiful thing, however, because it indicates that something is wrong. when you’re sick, you know you need more vitamin c because your throat is sore. when you drink too much whiskey, your head hurts and cigarettes sound like the worst thing ever and usually induce some/more vomiting. you hydrate yourself and avoid any activity. you rest and eat left-over chinese food and spend $2.00 on a Gatorade. only sometimes do you postpone the inevitable with a hair-of-the-dog bloody mary or irish coffee. in the end, though, pain is beautiful because if you didn’t have the headache, you would never fix the problem.other types of pain are more difficult to fix. you know something is wrong because your heart is broken, but you don’t want to fix the problem because part of the solution is realizing that someone has left your life — sometimes for forever — and you don’t know how to live with the fact that from now on, you’ll only have a ghost in your life. the ghost consists of your memories of them. your memories with them. their favorite song and the way their clothes smelled and how they took their coffee. the way they smiled at you, the funny way they bit their lip when they were nervous. their laugh. it’s hard and it’s sad to think about. this ghost in your life, following you around forever like a balloon waiting to be released. and after we’ve accumulated a few, it becomes an odd sight, this collection of balloons. we grasp so tightly to each string, desperate not to forget. desperate to preserve each detail, each line on their face. each joke and laugh and experience. each blade of grass from each walk through each city. we play it back like a movie and we know every line. we know the whole soundtrack. but i like to think that at the end of our lives we look around at all the ghosts who have walked with us — some much longer than others, some since the very beginning — and i like to think that we are grateful for them. grateful that they’re there and they have been the whole time. smiling at us. always unchanging, staying exactly the same — in the same clothes and with the same hairstyle that we remember or liked best. the old, faded shirt that always had a coffee stain down the front. some somber, some spiteful, some rude, some with the same shit-eating grin they always wore. the one you liked best. some tangible — almost like they’re actually there — and some transparent, only a brief memory. and i like to think that we smile at them one last time and then we let them go. our hands untether each little string, and the balloons go floating off. and we realize that they were never actually missing, we were just holding them in the wrong place. we were holding them tightly — too tightly — in our tiny, clenched fists instead of in our hearts, where they belonged. and the pain was caused because we misplaced them — such a simple mistake, but one that took a lifetime to realize. and once we do, the pain goes away and we are finally grateful for it; everything is where it should be because it hurt so much for so long.
—
[originally posted in my column [soundscape] on knoxroad.com — music website and home to music label walk-in records. the madness ensues on their tumblr, too.]](http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lyp8uk6ikz1qbm67qo1_500.jpg)
title: so much for so long.
photo: party crashers
song: 13th floor elevators — may the circle remain unbroken.
‘we don’t see things as they are; we see them as we are.’ - anais nin
pain is an amazing thing, really. obviously it’s terrible in a lot of ways; it’s difficult and it’s too close for comfort and its long-term effects take too long to process. some pain is fresh and some residual and some — more than we like to acknowledge — lasts forever. pain is a beautiful thing, however, because it indicates that something is wrong. when you’re sick, you know you need more vitamin c because your throat is sore. when you drink too much whiskey, your head hurts and cigarettes sound like the worst thing ever and usually induce some/more vomiting. you hydrate yourself and avoid any activity. you rest and eat left-over chinese food and spend $2.00 on a Gatorade. only sometimes do you postpone the inevitable with a hair-of-the-dog bloody mary or irish coffee. in the end, though, pain is beautiful because if you didn’t have the headache, you would never fix the problem.
other types of pain are more difficult to fix. you know something is wrong because your heart is broken, but you don’t want to fix the problem because part of the solution is realizing that someone has left your life — sometimes for forever — and you don’t know how to live with the fact that from now on, you’ll only have a ghost in your life.
the ghost consists of your memories of them. your memories with them. their favorite song and the way their clothes smelled and how they took their coffee. the way they smiled at you, the funny way they bit their lip when they were nervous.
their laugh.
it’s hard and it’s sad to think about. this ghost in your life, following you around forever like a balloon waiting to be released. and after we’ve accumulated a few, it becomes an odd sight, this collection of balloons. we grasp so tightly to each string, desperate not to forget. desperate to preserve each detail, each line on their face. each joke and laugh and experience. each blade of grass from each walk through each city. we play it back like a movie and we know every line.
we know the whole soundtrack.
but i like to think that at the end of our lives we look around at all the ghosts who have walked with us — some much longer than others, some since the very beginning — and i like to think that we are grateful for them. grateful that they’re there and they have been the whole time. smiling at us. always unchanging, staying exactly the same — in the same clothes and with the same hairstyle that we remember or liked best. the old, faded shirt that always had a coffee stain down the front. some somber, some spiteful, some rude, some with the same shit-eating grin they always wore. the one you liked best. some tangible — almost like they’re actually there — and some transparent, only a brief memory. and i like to think that we smile at them one last time and then we let them go. our hands untether each little string, and the balloons go floating off. and we realize that they were never actually missing, we were just holding them in the wrong place. we were holding them tightly — too tightly — in our tiny, clenched fists instead of in our hearts, where they belonged.
and the pain was caused because we misplaced them — such a simple mistake, but one that took a lifetime to realize. and once we do, the pain goes away and we are finally grateful for it; everything is where it should be because it hurt so much for so long.
—
[originally posted in my column [soundscape] on knoxroad.com — music website and home to music label walk-in records. the madness ensues on their tumblr, too.]
“i loved her sundrily and all at once.”
b.sowa
government knows best.
b.sowa
for last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice. and to make an end is to make a beginning.’ - t.s. eliot
happy new year’s eve, friends.
![well, kids, here it is: my wadidoLA interview. i’m pretty pleased with the photos they selected to feature, however almost the entire thing is a misquote. for example, I never said ‘I’m not ready to make photography a full-time job yet.” - i believe my exact words were “bitches need to be paying me for this shit ASAP.” when asked ‘Where do you plan to take your photography in the future?’ i responded with ‘all the way to the motherfucking top.” … the fact that they deleted every single instance of me being incredibly hilarious, charming and self deprecating is frustrating, but hey, free publicity, right? :)
—-
WLA: When and why did you first get into photography? BS: Photography was a happy accident. I never really considered it because I didn’t (and still don’t) own anything more advanced than a point and shoot camera. I felt like there were all of these prerequisites to ‘being’ a photographer - fancy gear being highest on the list. It took me a long time to realize that it’s not what you use, it’s what you shoot.
WLA: Do you have a day job? BS: I do - I work as an editor for a marketing agency. It’s really fun, challenging work that inspires me everyday. At this point, I can’t imagine not having a ‘left brain’ type of job to counterbalance the primarily ‘right brain’ work involved in photography. When photography has been more of a business for me in the past, I always felt bogged down by the business side of things - which is sad, because I love business models and marketing stratagems and being entrepreneurial. I’ve just learned that those aspects have their time and place and I’m not ready to make photography a full-time job yet. I want to be able to enjoy it as a hobby for now. I’m early in my career and I don’t want to feel rushed into selling something that I’m still getting to know.
WLA: How would you describe your photographic style? BS: I would describe it as minimalistic. I am drawn to clean lines and a lot of negative space, especially with portraiture. I feel like a lack of an integral component often times makes the piece stronger than it would be were that component included. I feel like it tells a different story; what’s missing in a person rather than what they have or how they are whole. Everybody’s missing something.
WLA: Where do you most like to shoot?BS: I like shooting candid portraiture of people in their natural environment - wherever that may be. I’m not much of a landscape photographer, though when I am, I like to portray a sense of isolation and loneliness.
WLA: Can you name a favorite shoot, or a subject you really enjoyed shooting?
BS: My favorite, most exciting subject is my 6 year old niece. She always has been. There’s a funny thing about kids - they don’t mask their emotions. They just exist. And oftentimes, their feelings are so much sharper and more detailed than ours because they’ve not learned to cope or rationalize them, they just go minute by minute through their lives. It’s fantastic to be able to photograph that.
WLA: Are you working on any current projects? BS: I am working on a curatorial project called The Public School which will combine music, design, photography, art, and inspiration in general. Often times I feel limited by photography, which is why I’m so insulated in my current column [soundscape] at Knoxroad.com - it combines music, photography and prose. I feel like one artistic vehicle isn’t enough to get me where I want to go emotionally.
WLA: Where do you plan to take your photography in the future?
BS: I’m currently obsessed with the idea of producing films. Wherever my photography ends up, I want it to move a person. Change the way they felt from before they experienced it.
—-](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lwvy6uqNQu1qbm67qo1_500.jpg)
well, kids, here it is: my wadidoLA interview. i’m pretty pleased with the photos they selected to feature, however almost the entire thing is a misquote. for example, I never said ‘I’m not ready to make photography a full-time job yet.” - i believe my exact words were “bitches need to be paying me for this shit ASAP.” when asked ‘Where do you plan to take your photography in the future?’ i responded with ‘all the way to the motherfucking top.” … the fact that they deleted every single instance of me being incredibly hilarious, charming and self deprecating is frustrating, but hey, free publicity, right? :)
—-
BS: Photography was a happy accident. I never really considered it because I didn’t (and still don’t) own anything more advanced than a point and shoot camera. I felt like there were all of these prerequisites to ‘being’ a photographer - fancy gear being highest on the list. It took me a long time to realize that it’s not what you use, it’s what you shoot.
BS: I do - I work as an editor for a marketing agency. It’s really fun, challenging work that inspires me everyday. At this point, I can’t imagine not having a ‘left brain’ type of job to counterbalance the primarily ‘right brain’ work involved in photography. When photography has been more of a business for me in the past, I always felt bogged down by the business side of things - which is sad, because I love business models and marketing stratagems and being entrepreneurial. I’ve just learned that those aspects have their time and place and I’m not ready to make photography a full-time job yet. I want to be able to enjoy it as a hobby for now. I’m early in my career and I don’t want to feel rushed into selling something that I’m still getting to know.
BS: I would describe it as minimalistic. I am drawn to clean lines and a lot of negative space, especially with portraiture. I feel like a lack of an integral component often times makes the piece stronger than it would be were that component included. I feel like it tells a different story; what’s missing in a person rather than what they have or how they are whole. Everybody’s missing something.
BS: I like shooting candid portraiture of people in their natural environment - wherever that may be. I’m not much of a landscape photographer, though when I am, I like to portray a sense of isolation and loneliness.
BS: I am working on a curatorial project called The Public School which will combine music, design, photography, art, and inspiration in general. Often times I feel limited by photography, which is why I’m so insulated in my current column [soundscape] at Knoxroad.com - it combines music, photography and prose. I feel like one artistic vehicle isn’t enough to get me where I want to go emotionally.
BS: I’m currently obsessed with the idea of producing films. Wherever my photography ends up, I want it to move a person. Change the way they felt from before they experienced it.
—-
self.
b.sowa
self medication.
b.sowa
![title: found.
photo: particles.
song: cocorosie - lemonade
it takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. – e.e. cummings
it’s a funny thing. thinking about what exactly we’re made of [genetics, blood, sinew] and how those little particles play into the bigger picture of who we become. it’s an even funnier thing to think about whether or not we were already destined to become something. who i was. who i am now. who i will be. whether it is encoded somewhere – anywhere – that i would like double short americanos from starbucks, or enjoy writing and music and seeing women who can’t walk well in high heels. why, for example, i consistently ‘feel’ like my life needs to go in a different direction than where it currently is. like the little golden bees and orbs floating through and composing my blood and tissue all have a compass with a predetermined ‘north’ that leads me a certain way. a way i don’t really understand, however know i must go.
a vast city of experiences and feelings and people. just waiting to be explored.
the bees and orbs guide me – they’re natives – and i stumble around my life like a tourist, trying to get the map out of my fanny pack and having forgotten to rub in the line of sunscreen on my nose. i walk down alleyways – a brief stint at the wrong job, a relationship that never would have worked, dying my hair black – and the bees wait patiently at the mouth of the alleyway, insisting that i come back and continue down the right street.
it’s a beautiful feeling. knowing that i’m not in this alone. that all the electricity and the warmth i feel in my life is generated – at least in part – by the buzzing of thousands of little bees who know me better than i know myself. and, ultimately, know where i need to go and how to get there. who can wink at me and smile when the grumpy, old organ that is my brain barges in with his cane and old man sweaters, demanding to know why i made a particular decision and all i have to say is ‘i don’t know, really. and i’m at peace with that’.
[originally posted on my column [soundscape] at knoxroad.com - music website and collector of the cutest kid photo ever, my own photographs not withstanding :) the madness ensues on their tumblr, too.]](http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lvjpi9hMnT1qbm67qo1_500.jpg)
title: found.
photo: particles.
song: cocorosie - lemonade
it takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. – e.e. cummings
it’s a funny thing. thinking about what exactly we’re made of [genetics, blood, sinew] and how those little particles play into the bigger picture of who we become. it’s an even funnier thing to think about whether or not we were already destined to become something. who i was. who i am now. who i will be. whether it is encoded somewhere – anywhere – that i would like double short americanos from starbucks, or enjoy writing and music and seeing women who can’t walk well in high heels. why, for example, i consistently ‘feel’ like my life needs to go in a different direction than where it currently is. like the little golden bees and orbs floating through and composing my blood and tissue all have a compass with a predetermined ‘north’ that leads me a certain way. a way i don’t really understand, however know i must go.
a vast city of experiences and feelings and people. just waiting to be explored.
the bees and orbs guide me – they’re natives – and i stumble around my life like a tourist, trying to get the map out of my fanny pack and having forgotten to rub in the line of sunscreen on my nose. i walk down alleyways – a brief stint at the wrong job, a relationship that never would have worked, dying my hair black – and the bees wait patiently at the mouth of the alleyway, insisting that i come back and continue down the right street.
it’s a beautiful feeling. knowing that i’m not in this alone. that all the electricity and the warmth i feel in my life is generated – at least in part – by the buzzing of thousands of little bees who know me better than i know myself. and, ultimately, know where i need to go and how to get there. who can wink at me and smile when the grumpy, old organ that is my brain barges in with his cane and old man sweaters, demanding to know why i made a particular decision and all i have to say is ‘i don’t know, really. and i’m at peace with that’.
[originally posted on my column [soundscape] at knoxroad.com - music website and collector of the cutest kid photo ever, my own photographs not withstanding :) the madness ensues on their tumblr, too.]
Bari Sowa | Bari Sowa on ARTchipel.com - Summer in the city lll : requiem. Fine art photography, 20x25cm
Bari Sowa | Bari Sowa on ARTchipel.com - opal lea, 2010. Fine art photography, 20x25cm
