A Response to Getting Lost

After embarking on the “RE Project”, I read Rebecca Solnit’s Field Guide to Getting Lost excerpt. Although I found Wim Wender’s reading intriguing, Solnit’s writing had an interesting almost retrospective effect on the work. I left for Capitol Hill armed with what I thought would be groundbreaking ideas and excited for a show I had tickets for. I had everything mapped out on my phone and in my head. After about an hour of photographing various areas of East Pike, dodging panhandlers and tourists, my boyfriend trailing behind, I grew discouraged. Nothing was turning out how I hoped. I put my phone away in temporary defeat and wandered into a local bar for cheaper drinks than the ones offered at the venue. I walked in and was welcomed with a poorly stocked bar, a cash only sign, an odd smell, and dollar bills peeling off the decrepid ceiling, reminiscent of many dives back home. The bartender proved to be an interesting character, rings on every finger, tattooed, and obviously disenchanted with the whole place, and most likely the city. I wanted to just capture at least one glimpse of the impression the area had left me with. I didn’t want to capture store fronts or neons or gutterpunks languidly lying on sidewalks. After expressing my plight to “Ryan in case we needed anything”, we decided a photo of his hands on the aging bar would be ideal. Before I knew it, he pulled out a knife from his pack pocket and stabbed into the bar, folding his hands. “That’s the shot.” He told me, instructing on an appropriate angle. As the evening wore on, I didn’t have a chance to glance at the photo I had taken. When I got home, I finally made it to the camera on my phone. It perfectly captured everything I took away from the area. It demonstrated the dirty, sometimes menacing, but intriguing value of the east side. After reading the Solnit reading, it all collided into sense. She states, “The art is not one of forgetting but of letting go.” I let go of all my plans and produced something way different and unexpected but valuable.