Sharing is Caring
Recently I was offered the opportunity to share my photographic work with my local community. For the entire month of May, my work was on display at the Fairfield Community Centre. It came about, as often things do, at the exact right moment when I wasn’t thinking about it. By that I mean that I had put in an application to show my work months prior, forgotten about it and then was emailed and asked if I was still interested. I was.
Everything from the initial preparation of my show to the tear down was lovely. Absolutely divine. It went a little something like this:
After replying to the community coordinator, I stopped by the space to say hello in person and take a look at my canvas. It was asked that I fill the entire main hall with works so I wanted to get an idea of how much work I’d be printing, framing - all that good stuff.
When I walked into the centre, I immediately noticed how warm the space was. No, I don’t mean that their furnace needed repair, I mean that everyone and everything within those walls was genuine and caring. From the pantry and deep freeze that was stocked with food for people to retrieve to the ten-dollar-a-day daycare that was taking place, this community centre oozed with kindness.
After having snapped a few photos, I went home and started to plan. I decided to use the different walls and spaces to differentiate themes within my work. Those themes included, water, the forest, the city and people. From there I scrubbed through all of my work and decided which pieces fit these themes best.
Collecting my works for this show was not an easy task. I love so many of my photos and deciding which ones got to shine for this show felt like picking which of my babies were good enough to be put up in a pageant - I make that comparison having no experience with child bearing or the culture and community that exists around pageants but I think you get the picture.
The second thing that made this difficult was that it forced me to essentially open a time capsule and open myself up to memories from the past ten years. Some of this was fun and left me feeling bright and nostalgic. Some of it was hard. I was grateful, though, for that challenge. It forced feelings up to the surface that I was holding down and asked me to acknowledge them and let them pass. It also asked me to take a step back and look at my photographs objectively, without the memories attached to them. Was this the best photo for the collection despite it being connected to something sad? Then it goes in. Alternatively, is this really a good photo or just a really good memory - then it stays out but maybe gets added to a list of photos that I print to put up in my own home.
After deciding on my photos, I put on my business hat and built out a spreadsheet that broke down how much the printing, framing and hanging would cost me and how much I’d need to put aside each month to make that happen. I also calculated how much I’d need to sell each piece for in order to make my money back but truthfully, that wasn’t the purpose of this show. I didn’t care if I made a single penny back - I just wanted to take the brave step of sharing my work in a public venue.
Next came naming the pieces. This was surprisingly easy. I sort of emptied my mind, let the photo take centre stage and then trusted whatever name came up. This is similar to how I named my cat and his name fits him so well.
I ordered my prints and set out to get my frames. It took a bit of work to get the number of frames that I needed in the same style for all of my pieces. I’m grateful that I had a friend to help me out with this. Between myself and my friend Sarah, we hit every Michael’s and then I ordered what we couldn’t find in store online. After a few weeks, all of my frames and photographs were ready to be put together. Luckily I’d built out a timeline with a couple of weeks of wiggle room because the actual framing process took longer than I thought it would.
For several evenings when I got home from work, I’d throw on a TV show or podcast and sit down to frame and wire each piece. I’d make sure the glass was clean and the photo was centred. I’d carefully put on the backing and secure the frame then flip it around only to see that somehow - right front and centre detracting from the composition of the piece - was a giant cat hair. Or a bread crumb - how - I wasn’t even eating bread at the time. I’d reopen the photograph and clear it out and then put the backing back on and check again. Sometimes it was ready to go at that point. Sometimes I was required to reopen it several times to clear out these magical distracting blots that just kept showing up.
After a couple of weeks, all of my works were finally framed and ready to go. Except one. The big one. I had made the choice to print out one photo as a 27X40 to be the eye-catching centre display as you walked into the space. I had some ideas about how to wire this bad boy up and had purchased the necessary bits but hadn’t sat down to do it. Until the night before my show went up. Note to the wise - do not do this. As you might have guessed, my initial idea did not work. At all. Command hooks are good for some things - holding framing wire is not one of them. Luckily, I’m a northern girl and have had many-an-opportunity to think outside the box when the appropriate supplies weren’t available. So with some ingenuity and a box cutter, I found a solution.
The next day I drove all of my work over early in the morning and got to work setting up. This, again, was a wonderful experience. Although we didn’t all exchange names, everyone who worked there said hello as I tinkered away and left me with the feeling that I was someone who they’d chatted with regularly. It was comfortable, a home away from home. I imagine that this is how they say hi to everyone that walks into that space which is probably why it’s such a special place in the community.
My mom came to visit a couple of weeks after I set things up and I took her to see the space. She was so proud, as mom’s are of their children, and easily fell into a light and cheerful conversation with the staff. Every time I stopped by it was the same. A twenty minute pop in would last nearly an hour as I lounged on the chairs and laughed with the care takers of this space.
The month went by really quickly and before I knew it, I was pulling my pieces down. It would be more dramatic and maybe even climactic to say that I was sad but the truth is, I wasn’t. I’d had fun, I’d put myself out there and found people in my community I could chat with. They offered me the opportunity to put my work up again in the future and I offered them volunteer hours once my work schedule was a little easier to plan around. I packed up my car and drove away feeling proud of how for a short period in a small space, that community and I had shared a part of ourselves with each other.