What's a picture worth? Is a picture worth framing and putting up on the wall? Maybe a picture is worth posting to my Instagram to show all of my followers how artsy I am. Could a picture be worth the time recalling where I was and what I've done? Imagining the things I've never seen... the places I'll never go.
I'm barely old enough to remember looking through my parents' old photo albums, overflowing with disjointed moments someone thought worth remembering. We don't have photo albums anymore. Not because we don't see things worth remembering, but because we want to remember everything. Having a photo is expected, to the point where the photo itself is rendered worthless.
I love taking pictures, and often think about how to escape the spiral of inflation into which cell phones and generative AI have cast the photograph. I find physical mediums to be less disposable - vinyl records and Blu-ray discs come to mind. But what is the photographic equivalent of a vinyl record? A print? A book? An album?
How about a jacket?
Park
It was a cool April night. I like to walk around after dark, when nobody is beyond suspicion and everything feels more important than it is. I remember sitting on my favorite bench, musing at the horizon's ominous glow. I took a picture.
Walking further, I stumbled upon a playground. Once filled with rambunctious halflings engaged in dynamic pursuits, the vestige that remained was tarnished and haunted. Merry-go-rounds lie crooked and rotting. Screeching swings wrapped high out of reach. Steel steeds bent weary and flaking. Twisted slides lead to mire and muck. These truly were the last days.
A part of me felt sorry for the place, rendered nearly worthless by the sands of time. I imagined the demolition was immanent, and what little remained would soon be forgotten. Naturally, I began taking pictures of the dilapidated instruments, hoping my archives could offer some solace. I mounted the horses and unwound the swings. I thought maybe they'd like to feel useful again.
For some time, the pictures lie dormant in my camera roll. I eventually happened upon a tattered Carhartt jacket, and was immediately reminded of the disheveled playground. An unlikely vessel for photographic expression, but it was undeniable that the fraying canvas shared the park's existential sentiments.
I began with a dry run of sorts using standard printing paper. Once the size and placement of each patch was established, I printed each image on inkjet photo fabric. After ironing the sheets to ensure colorfastness, I used HeatnBond to attach each patch to the jacket prior to sewing.
To prep the jacket, I removed the blanket lining to allow for patches to be placed over the pockets, and cut the seams of the sleeve. I used a zigzag stitch around the perimeter of each patch, usually segmented into two runs per image in order to reorient the fabric. I used a heavy white machine thread for a bolder appearance, burning both ends of the thread between runs. Finally, the sleeves were resewn using a double straight stitch.
Aside from some dodgy stitching, which somewhat matched the subject's deteriorated character, the final product exceeded my expectations. Soon after the jacket's completion, I returned to the park, only to find a shallow pit where metallic mares once stood. I knelt in the dirt, imagining what grim fate awaited the discarded remains. I couldn't help feeling like I had lost something... that the world had lost something, and I was the only person who cared. Through this jacket, that cursed playground lives on.
Out West
In the summer of 2022, I moved to Colorado to complete my degree in aerospace. The mountains of Colorado provided a welcome contrast to my suburban homeland and the concrete jungle of Atlanta. For my second jacket, I wanted to embody the spirit of the West. Vacant motels with empty swimming pools. Mountain towns with two bars and one road. Square-body pickups with horses in tow. Twisted wood and rusted steel.
This second iteration saw a number of refinements over the original. Unlike the flannel lining on the "Park" jacket, which was permanently removed and discarded, the lining on this jacket was cut and later resewn by hand to retain its insulative properties. Sleeve cuffs were cut, trimmed, and resewn for a cropped fit. And finally, a finer thread was used for the patches to prevent machine jamming.
In an attempt to waterproof the jacket through application of a Nikwax aerosol, I discovered an unforeseen fail case for the inkjet fabric patches. When I applied the spray, the ink on all of the patches immediately began to bleed down the jacket. In hopes of salvaging the project, I rapidly washed the entire jacket in cold water to rinse out the excess ink. While the patches lost a good deal of saturation and some evidence of bleeding remained, I was happy to avoid complete disaster.
Tighter stitching, improved insulation, and what I would consider a more compelling visual composition - the "Out West" jacket served as a marked improvement over my first prototype.
Engrained
With two jackets under my belt, I thought it time to go back to the drawing board and take a more minimalistic approach. Instead of a collection of images with an underlying theme, I decided my next project would focus on a single image. I've always loved the character of withered wood. Even in death, a tree's twisted skin inspires inquisitive examination, its movements mimicking a stratified canyon or a turbulent flow.
This simplistic design provided a welcome departure from the labor-intensive fabrication of its predecessors. After printing and trimming to size, I ironed and rinsed the patches to prevent bleeding. I then removed the pockets, applied HeatnBond to the patches, and attached them with the usual zigzag stitch. I then stitched the pockets back on using a double straight stitch.
This jacket takes a step back from my previous maximalist approach, letting the complex texture of the wood stand for itself.
Eye Spy
As with the "Engrained" jacket, I once again wanted to focus in on a single image. I took this photo in Beiei, a small town in Japan's northern island of Hokkaido. In pursuit of Beiei's renowned lavender fields, I stumbled upon this wall of oddments, unsure if the display was for show or for sale. This haphazard amalgamation inspired a lengthy game of Eye Spy, and the subject of this jacket.
Following the same process as the "Engrained" jacket, the only difference in fabrication was the presence of rivets on the pockets, which prevented their complete removal. The tight curves at the bottom of each pocket also provided an added challenge when sewing.
"Eye Spy" contrasts a muted workwear aesthetic with an abstract chimera of wingspread sculptures and tangled chords.
Spes 6
My most recent jacket, "Spes 6", portrays the textures and landscapes of a seemingly alien world. One of the advantages of digital photography is the iterative process it enables - being able to alter settings and see results on the fly. This principle can be used to turn the ordinary into the otherworldly. I thought it would be fun to weave these images together into a narrative about scientists traveling to other galaxies in search of a habitable world. I call this world "Spes 6."
Click here to check out the "Spes 6" page of my photography portfolio.