“#0555” combines photographic and written documentation from my Sophomore year of college with the “111 Days” project to create a photo narrative of the original letter written to “N.” Inspired by Sophie Calle’s Exquisite Pain, the narrative aims to utilize timestamps as a catalyst for exhibiting my relationship.
Rather than trying to use all 111 original darkroom prints for the narrative, I hand-picked some meaningful mobile text exchanges between “N” and I and used their sending dates as the basis for which of the 111 calendar/ diary images I chose. I paired such texts with their corresponding prints, also utilizing handwritten excerpts I had written during my Sophomore year. Toward the end of the narrative, the viewer is bombarded with all the mementos of the passing days. I feel that the juxtaposition of the handwritten text alongside the formal mobile text exchanges is effective in creating a necessary irony within it all. This is most emphasized in the 17th slide, in which the handwritten text is crossed out and carries itself out of the black space and over to my own image. The handwritten text not only exhibits control but also emphasizes my thoughts in relation to his.
Though the calendar day excerpts were more straightforward in their imagery, it was challenging to determine what images would be placed in relation to the letter to “N,” as my memories of those days have begun to blend together. Some have completely crept away from me. I wanted to utilize this emptiness in the black void I chose to impose within the images. Telling my story chronologically and succinctly is very difficult, as I am never sure of what to believe. By reflecting this loss within the stretching darkness of the photo narrative, the black space becomes an image of its own. Not every day needs to be “memorable” or “marked,” because not every day is memorable to me. This is most reflected in my letter, in which I’ve written, “111 days for you, but how many for me?”
The 18th slide stands as a conversation to be had with all the other calendar days. A memento of the “block” button’s numbing capabilities. Gone, but not forgotten.
The final slide contains a drawing of me, laying atop a film slide within the confines of a tinder bio. My name is nothing but the mailroom number he always remembered me by. That was the girl he wanted. The girl he drew. The girl he gave to me while taking Aubrey away from me.
When I originally conceptualized the series as a sophomore, I intended for the #0555 image to be the first image in the narrative, though it is now the last. What starts with braids and the concealment of my face ends with a depiction of that very girl. I do not see a truthful portrait of myself fitting into this work, as it is made to be about her. Thus, the overarching series title Disposition came to be.
Who is she? She is what you want her to be.