Kate, Happy Birthday on this your 23rd. May you always play in the dirt. PawPaw, Madison County, NC 2013
(click on photograph to enlarge)
Seldom Scene - Devony Shelton
Devony Shelton, Cutshalltown, Madison County, NC 1984
In my last post I spoke about my time with Home Health Nurse, Susan Moore, and this photograph was made during the same assignment. We were visiting with Devony Shelton and her husband who was terminally ill. She had been caring for him for many months and Susan provided support and a willing ear for Mrs. Shelton's concerns.
Sometimes on assignments such as this one, a photographer will make images he knows will never be published, mostly because they don't fit with the story. I sensed this was the case with this picture, but knew it was one I needed to make.
She said she had cut her hair only one time in her life and I asked if I could photograph it. The request pleased her and we walked together to the porch of her single-wide where the angular lines of the trailer provided a contrasting backdrop to the flowing elegance of her hair and posture.
The photograph wasn't used in the story and to my knowledge this is the first time it's been published.
Home Health
Home Health Nurse Susan Moore with 97-year old George Roberts and his daughter, Gertie Randall, Big Pine, Madison County, NC, 1984.
I spoke with my friends Larry and Sue Savett the other night. Larry and Sue live in St. Paul, Minnesota, where Sue was a Social Worker and Larry an Internal Medicine MD. We had gotten to know each other through a mutual friend and over the course of twenty or more years developed a solid friendship and abiding respect for each other.
In 2002, Larry published a book titled The Human Side of Medicine: Learning What it’s like to be a Patient and What it’s like to be a Physician. The book looks at the complexity of the doctor/patient relationship and offers tools to improve that interaction. Some time before the book was published he called to ask if he could use this photograph in his book. It was an image I had made in the mid-1980s for a story on rural health care initiatives for Southern Exposure Magazine. Writer Millie Buchanan and I did a story on the Hot Springs Health Program, a cutting-edge health delivery system in Madison County that became a model for rural health systems across the state.
I spent a number of days with Home Health Nurse Susan Moore as she made her rounds across the county tending to members of our community. Susan’s manner with her patients was more like a neighbor or family member – listening, open, responsive, encouraging the patient to talk about themselves. She knew, if she could build trust between herself and her patient, and the patient's family, it would benefit the patient’s health. Photographers also know this - that building trust with your subject often produces a better, more open, image.
When teaching, Larry uses this photograph as an example of The Human Side of Medicine. He shows it to his students and asks them to write an essay about what they see in the image. He has shared some of the essays with me and I’m struck by the student’s ability to understand the facts in the photograph while adding their own personal elements to the story they write.
Photography is dependent on facts, an external reality. There has to be something to photograph and photographers generally understand their role is to picture the world around them. As an image-maker I want the viewer to recognize the factual elements in a photograph - the what, why, and where in a picture. But what really excites me is when that evidence sparks the viewer’s memories: That reminds me of a time when we butchered hogs. Or, My mother used to wear her hair like that. Or, That was a hard time for my family. It’s the ability of the photograph to transcend its initial, intended meaning and create new realities that gives the medium its power and uniqueness.
Head of the Spring
At Our Spring, PawPaw, 2014 05 08
Our Dirt
Dirt in our Garden with Potato Plant Shadows, PawPaw, 2014
I love our dirt.
I love most everything about it.
The things you might expect – its smell and texture.
Its touch and the way it sifts through my fingers,
staining them as the soil itself, a reminder.
I’ve had to learn to love our dirt.
It’s not intuitive with me, like it is Leslie.
As a child, cleanliness was valued, dirt avoided.
Hands and nails checked for telltale signs,
washing more of a religion than an actual need.
It took moving here, to the mountains,
to rid the aversion from my life.
Gardening and working tobacco changed that.
Animals, and firewood, and just plain digging.
Now, dirt is everyday, and usual.
I love it under my nails.
How it turns the tips dark.
If you suck on those tips, you taste it.
Grit on your teeth, going down in a smooth swallow.
A cocktail of sorts.
Our dirt is clean.
No chemicals for twenty-five years.
Manure, compost, cover crops, leaves in the fall.
It’s rich. You dig in to a feast of life –
worms a plenty, worms galore.
Garlic in our Garden, PawPaw, 2014.
We grow a small garden now,
we used to grow much more.
To eat food grown in soil you’ve nurtured is
one of life’s true gifts.
I think, “Fresh spinach in the early spring.”
I read about children today,
not knowing where their food comes from,
like me when I was young, but more so.
It’s sad to be without dirt, to lack intimacy with it,
to not know the primacy of its role.
And the bacteria and germs, the stuff that lives in dirt - now they’re saying all that stuff is good for you.
It builds resistance to disease.
Dirt makes us stronger, they say.
I hear my mother, “I don’t believe a word of it.”
Seldom Scene - Everett Barnett
Everett Barnett, Marshall, North Carolina 1984
I didn't know Mr. Barnett well at all. But when I lived in my studio space in downtown Marshall in the early 1980s, I would often see him and we would speak. I do know he was a loved and respected part of a community that is not noted for its racial or ethnic diversity. He lived downtown, just off of Hill Street. He served our country during World War II as a member of the 34th Naval Construction Battalion, the famous Seabees, whose motto was Construimus, Batuimus - We Build, We Fight. The Battalion participated in much of the fighting in the Pacific Theatre during the war and the shell casing he is holding is from the invasion of Okinawa in 1945. That battle was one of the most hard fought and bitter fights of the War as Japan was desperately defending its homeland. It was instrumental in bringing the war to an end. I wish I knew more of Everett Barnett and would love for readers to share stories of him.
Thank You
PawPaw, 2012.
Yesterday, April 30, marked the end of the most successful month in my website's brief history with over 2,400 unique visits and 4,200 page views. When I first started blogging on this site about 20 months ago, I intended to give it a year and at that time evaluate if it was worth continuing. I wondered if I would be able to sustain the volume of words and pictures and if anyone would choose to read them. That first year is now closing in on year 2 and the words seem to keep flowing. It's been fun for me and I continue to love the process. I've come to believe this is the perfect medium for me. Of course, it wouldn't be possible without you readers and I want to offer my sincere thanks to all of you for your support, comments, and timely corrections.