I was digging through files to get my website up and renewed and found these old polaroid transfers and emulsions in a portfolio. I think they are lovely. Polaroid doesn't even make this kind of film anymore but Fuji has something like it and I have a few boxes of it to try. I'm a little afraid my Polaroid back is going to mess them up because the last time I used it the Polaroids got stuck and ripped but I need to give it a try soon and make more images like these. It's a fun fun process and so creative.
The following images are photos I did transfers of my family and my trip to China in 2001-10 years ago! Wow! I did some of the others in maybe 2003. Brooks Institute, where I went to school was so rigorous that I stopped doing processes like these. Then the digital world took over and now to make photos like this on actual water color paper with emulsions, warm water and a little vinegar is probably not too common. You can probably make this digitally with the right layers and filters. But there is just something to holding an actual photo printed on a thick paper. I'm old fashioned. Yes, you can print a digital photo on thick paper too but again, the process is different and the results are more controlled. I think the key word is "control". It's nice not to always have control and experiment.
Beyond the technical Polaroids Transfers for me have a nostalgic feel. They naturally are imperfect images and feel antique. The blacks in the photos don't transfer well and sometimes rip off when you peel away the polaroid from the transfer. It's almost like holes in memories...for me at least.
The picture above is the emulsion left from a Polaroid Transfer. You can actually warm these up in water too and transfer them to paper and other objects. This was taken in Shanghai. The photo below was taken in Beijing.
My friend, Leslie's child, Lucas.
The following photo is of me and my donkey when we brought her home from Death Valley. I was 8 and she was 4 months. She's still alive and I'm 34.
There was a period of about 13 years when I was in college and moving all the time that I didn't have animals. As soon as I graduated from Brooks and we moved to Ohio I got two cats and a year and a half later I had two dogs. Now we are getting some chickens to urban farm in The Woodlands (if we can get away with it).
Rocks on a beach in Santa Barbara.
Me in the rocks.
View in Santa Barbara from Lizards Mouth I believe.
Double exposure polaroid.
This is my grandfather who tragically took his life when my mother was 16. He was paralyzed for the second time in his life at that point. The first time he had a tumor and my mother helped rehabilitate him and then he was in a car accident. He was a chicken farmer and severely depressed as well as many other issues. Sadly, two of his children would also later take their lives.
This is my aunt, Joanne. She was an artist and also studied French. She went to Paris in the late sixties or early seventies. People say I look like her but I can't see it though I'm excited to know she was an artist and learned French since we lived in Belgium and I studied French also and love art. Sadly, she swam into the sea at Goat Rock State Park in Northern CA and drowned herself. Her body was found at the Farallon Islands a month later and my mother read an article in the newspaper that a body had been found. She called to identify the body over the phone by visible scars known. The first of a series of tragic family deaths after the suicide of my grandfather.
This is my Sicilian family, the Anconas. Of course, there were some tragedies here too...but more joy. My great-grandfather, Leonardo came over in the 1880's. He was a fisherman and fished in the San Francisco bay. He had a house, that is still in the family, in North Beach on Lombard St. My great-grandmother (the lady who is faded out) died of Tuberculosis and that was when things got more difficult for my grandmother of course. Lots of debate on that issue of course.
There are my ancestors, my grandmother being the little one on the bottom right.
Now, I believe these are the Andersons from Sweden, my mother's father's family. They were known as the "crying Andersons" because they were so emotional and cried a lot. Must be where I get my tears.
My Dad's mom on her wedding day with my grandfather.
My mom's family when they were all young and sadly, still alive...
My dad's family. My dad is on the left top corner without the mustache.
Click photo to see larger!
