I'm Traci Lynn Matlock.
I live and work in Houston, Texas.

Mostly, I shoot old-fashioned film.


I share more: here

And I always like email:
turningthequickcartwheel at gmail

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Beyond Looking

So I recently began a photo project on Failure.
I picked an easily available, fun game that almost anyone would be willing to try.
Something about joy, whimsy, challenge.

Everyone who has done this for me so far has believed they couldn't do it.
Some think they can't blow a bubble, some think they can't pop a bubble.
But everyone has been able to do both.

When they blow the bubble, their faces change; they are focused, their eyelids tighten.
They pay no attention to me whatsoever. I have to call them to look at me.

*

Here's the one I knew I could shoot:


I tried to resist this one because I knew I could shoot it. 
But not only that; I resisted this one because it was about beauty, proliferation, success, surprise. 
It is about what she can do. And about what I can do too.
This one is about seduction.

*
Here's the one I thought I wanted to see instead:


I thought I wanted to capture what happened post-success, post-seduction.
I thought the face would change. I thought you wouldn't be able to hold The Self within it.
I also thought the gaze would change.

Turns out, my desire for the shooting this image supplants a new idea of success.
My desire (the bubble popped, Failure) becomes their desire.
More than ever, I have captured the gesture of achievement.

Albert Camus' idea of Sisyphus (after which I began this project) suggests that this should be the place of true consciousness.
But my valuing of this moment has layered this with too much want.
Like the first photo, this one is too pretty. It knows too much.

It's proud of itself, and it should be.
But it makes me less interested in 'capturing' it.

She's already caught it. In herself. A much greater feeling than anything I could do with a camera.

*

Here's the one I prefer:


For me, because nothing is happening in this moment, everything happens in this moment.
Post-post-success.
 Libidinal center-of-focus acknowledged but somewhat averted. No narrative suggestion.
Engagement of the spectator (me first, then you now) less important than body's accidental gesture.

But I'm just trying this out.
Do I believe all of that? Somewhat.

I like the last one because it's not as easy to see (top level) but is easier to engage (deeper level).
There's less practice.

 It requires me to continue its existence; the first two simply require me to look.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

I just love your work. To me your work is the combination of the images and the words. Crossed with my fantasies about your life. All is accentuated by the casual delivery/distribution.
I've been following you for years many years (in the beginning just via flickr).
This particular post is really interesting to me... what makes a good photo? I think you are 100% right. And - as Niels Bohr would have said - the exact opposite is just as right. Otherwise it wouldn't have been a deep truth.
Thanks, Bo

enantiom3r said...

I was going through photos with my boyfriend last night, and he said something along the lines of "I knew you'd like that one, your favorites are always the worst ones," and I spent a long time trying to isolate what it is about "the worst" that draws me in. It would have been easier to say that they require more than looking, and that I want to do more than look.