Emily

“In the way I approach my photography and in the way I appreciate the photography of others, a great photograph is not the same thing as a photograph of something great. This is because, to me, art worthy of being considered great should be an expression of the greatness of the artist.“

- Guy Tal

Yesterday turned into an Emily day.   

TRIGGER WARNING  / Writing this bought me to tears.  It is my second post about loosing another dear friend to suicide.

Her digital photographic archive was kept only on her computer and a spare hard drive.  In one nasty swoop her car was cleaned out by a thief and she lost everything.  Years of photography gone.   

Despite wanting to get back into her photography, she struggled too.  That incident knocked the wind out of her photography.  

Brian, her father, and Cheryl, her dear friend, have scoured everything of hers hoping to find something.  Her box of portfolio prints turns up and an old hard drive.  I open the hard drive excited, recognising the brand, hoping it was one I asked her to buy to back her work up on.  But alas not.  I was sure I helped her make back ups.

After I learned of her passing I rang the Emirates Wolgan Valley Resort asking about her work there.  Some prints are there for sale and the book they made of her work.  I order the book.  Can I visit.  No.  Guests only.  A brick wall.

So that’s it.  A box of prints.  A book.  Some shots of her pots she took, which I processed and put on the web for her.

Many beautiful memories of a wonderful person and a passionate photographer.  We try to salvage what we can.   

The prints are now all rephotographed and retouched.  I personally check the editing of each one before they are printed.  Yesterday we delivered the prints to the framers.  Her dad cries many times as we sort through them and choose frames.  I try to be strong. Support his decision making. Reminding him how beautiful the work is.  Focusing on the good memories.

He is building a memorial.   

It will be very special.  A place to sit and remember her in.   

Next, I start on some books.  More memories. So little work to choose from.  Simple decision, it all goes in, because every single one is precious. 

It’s not over.  More to do.  Her memory resurfaces all too often with the pain of her passing and my loss. I miss her.  

Tears again.... 

It is all part of the grieving I am sure.    

I look back wishing I had done more, knowing I couldn’t have.  Knowing I tried my best to help when I could.

Those last few missed calls.  I called her driving up the mts, no answer, she called me back, I am teaching, as usual I disappear for a week with my students..

It had been six months since our last conversation... 

When was that even? 

It is too late to ask what if.  

But you do. 

Yet you know... 

Focus on the good memories Len... 

Water reflections.  Abstract Photography Workshop.   https://www.lensschool.com/workshops-tours/abstract-photography-workshop-2019 

Photograph and text copyright © Len Metcalf 2019