Jan Ekin | Ode To Memory Lane | ON SEEING. OR NOT.
“I am legally blind, but the term “being blind” encompasses many degrees of non-sight, from total to severely limited.
I have very limited vision and scan the world in segments to see what’s around me. I am relatively new to photography, about 15 years or so. Not having full vision probably prevented me from getting into photography sooner. Mistakenly, I thought if I could not see the entire world around me, how could I possibly photograph it.”
One day I picked up one of my husband’s cameras and began to take pictures as we traveled to different places. It took a while for me to overcome my technical intimidation and realize that using a camera was not that difficult, after all. Encouraged by this, I joined the local camera club and admired the works of many friends I got to meet. I pulled up enough courage to enter the competitions in due time and was pleasantly surprised when I won high scores, even prizes.
Landscapes, cityscapes, flowers, etc. followed.
But, nothing clicked until I visited the North Smithfield Auto Salvage, literally heaps of damaged or old cars waiting to be sold in bits and pieces. The peeling and crackled paint, varying degrees of rust and deterioration, and incomprehensible angles formed on car bodies resulting from accidents gave me a view that excited my limited vision.
I realized that the textures, lines, shapes, colors, and their random appearance appealed to me more than the grand landscape vistas that I could not see all at once. One section called the Memory Lane with very old, vintage cars became a favorite.
Repeated visits to the proverbial junkyard gave me opportunities to explore this new abstract world. Then, the world of macro photography appeared as a suitable subject for my limited vision. Today, I continue exploring this new world of abstraction.
And, what a fascinating world it has been. I know my limitations and work in environments that do not require extensive peripheral vision. I particularly enjoy photographing the colors, lines, textures, and shapes rather than the full objects themselves. My photographs have been included in juried shows, and I self-published a book of my abstract photographs.
This set of photographs comes from the extensive collection that I photographed in, around, near the cars of Memory Lane. Sitting on a stool, I carried with me and looking at the colors mainly formed by rust, and erosion felt like a meditation of some sort. When photographing things that have experienced the force of nature over time, it is hard not to think of them as operational vehicles, even looking shiny at some point in time.
Seeing a little section of a door with my limited vision in some ways helped me explore the patterns, colors, textures more easily. I was not taken by the “whole thing,” but only what I could see. In many ways, this somewhat close relation with these relics of time opened my eyes, well, as much as I can anyway! By showing these photographs, I would like to thank the Memory Lane and all its members. I also would like to encourage other visually impaired individuals to pick up a camera and allow it to help them see, and see better in some ways.
