I've always considered myself a very sentimental person. I'm someone that really really cherishes my happy memories. And you're probably thinking "well duh Brittany, we all do", and I guess you'd be right. I've always thought I was a little bit different though, I remember a LOT, from when I was really little - as young as 2/3 years old. My family and friends can attest to this as well - "how do you remember that?!" they say all the time. I replay my memories over and over in my head, and not every 5-10 years, its a daily thing for me. A lot of times it keeps me up at night. A lot of these memories are what I call my "core" memories, because they are the ones I always go back to, and I really think they made me into the person I am.
Okay Brittany get to the point...
The fact is is that MOST of these memories are from the Summers I spent at my Grandma's house and our family campground at the lake. I am from a tiny little town called Edgewood, which most people have never heard of. The times I spent there are so engrained into my soul. It's not even that majorly exciting things happened, it wasn't trips to Disneyland or crazy vacations. It was my Grandma and Grandpa, and the little things. You don't really realize how much you actually take in as a child.
I can still smell their house, and the way the fresh air felt and smelled coming in through the window of the "room with the big bed". It was a whole little world of its own. I can still picture each of the tiny individual holes in the concrete patio area in front of the house, I would trace them with my toes. When it rained they would fill with water - that smell, ah. I would often lay on the floor in the living room, and run my hands along the carpet, still feeling that on my fingers. She collected Owl trinkets, and every year I would visit I would count them in her china cabinet to see if she added any more. The green frog scrubby holder by the kitchen sink. The smell of sawdust in my Grandpas shop. Grandma had beautiful flowers in her garden, I was particularly fond of the pansies and for some reason I thought they were exclusive to her garden. The basement was a whole world of its own too, trapped in another time - full of trinkets and interesting things. My sister, cousins and I spent a lot of time playing with all the old things down there. I could list a million more things. All of these "things", you don't really think about their importance in the moment, but they become our memories and a part of who we are. And I think that's what lead me to be a Photographer, because photos ARE memories, they literally freeze a moment in time. When we're taking a photo we don't really think TOO much of it, but 10-20+ years down the line they become something we cherish more than anything.
I've always been the one in the family always taking photos, its always kind of been in the fabric of my being.. Which now makes total sense. Thankfully, I have photos of my Grandma and her house, lots that I took myself. I still wish I had more. Sadly, we lost her a few years ago. She unknowingly had a large part in the person I became.