I Fire My Flash At Everything

A quarantine mini-project of self-expression.

Banana bread by my sister. The only image made outside my room.

So we’re all indoors much more now. I sat for more than 10 hours today, and it sucked, and I’m a little too lazy to exercise, so I picked up my camera and whacked on a flash, just to be on my feet a bit. I decided to document where I spent those 10+ hours — my room.

I’ve always been curious about how people live their private lives. On that basis, I assumed that people would be curious about mine. Or maybe not. But I thought this exercise could also be a form of expression. How one “styles” one’s personal space tells a lot.

The photos you see here are completely undisturbed, unarranged, unposed, at and as of 10.30pm, the 15th of May 2020. This was the state of my room.

I thought of two people while snapping away. My good friend Sara, who very graciously invited us into her bedroom that one time, blushing while we judged every single item in sight. Thanks Sara, you know what truly matter. And Sanya from Instagram, whom I’ve never met, and can’t even remember connecting with in the first place. And who, as she’d told me multiple times before, loves flash photography. Sanya, this is for you.

Big Books:

I’m leafing through George Steinmetz’s “Desert Air”, which is basically aerial photography of hyper-arid landscapes around the world. Mars on Earth really. Insane.

Joel Meyorowitz was the only photographer allowed access into Ground Zero, following the collapse of the World Trade Center on 9/11. His body of work in those 9 months culminated in this massive photobook Aftermath, depicting the heroism and spirit of the recovery efforts. I don’t think I need to say any more.

Covers of a few books I’m getting through, including the aforementioned “Desert Air”, next to big, old, children’s jokebooks and picture books.

On My Desk:

I use a Uniqlo paper bag as a large coaster.

Some peripherals behind my monitor.

A table on a table, acting as a side table. On it is the transcription for Diego Figueriedo and Cyrille Aimee’s rendition of Bill Withers’ “Just the Two of Us”, which blew me away when I first saw it on Youtube. I learned half of it years ago (the guitar bit), but decided to re-learn it following Bill Withers’ recent death.

Under My Desk:

A can of coke from my first delivered meal of the entire quarantine period (58 days in), lies on a bed of tissues produced by my incredibly runny nose every morning.

The hard guitar case acts as a footrest. Also shown: poor cable management.

Shelves:

Top shelf: Art books and magazines. Bottom shelf: Books I haven’t read, or failed to finish.

A close up. Left: Joe Dart bobblehead. One of my favourite bassists of all time, from my favourite band of all time, Vulfpeck. Right: A kendama, received as a gift, which I have never learned to play.

Top shelf: A shelf reserved for some of my favourite books. Bottom shelf: Top Gear magazines, from when I was a bit of a car nut. My prized possession. Left, stuck on cupboard: A list of bible verses for various conditions of the human experience.

Things I Touch A Lot:

The last time I remember these 2 instruments not sharing a room with me was probably almost 10 years ago.

I grew up a Liverpool fan, and had posters, calendars, merch and such adorning my wall — now all that’s left are the signplate you see, and remnants of blutack used to hold up said merch.

Book, phone and couch are an inseparable match. Book is Figuring by Maria Popova (of BrainPickings.org) — of which the discovery that the table of contents actually read as an entire poem I will never forget. Thanks to my friend Shi Jun who first shared his copy with me, which led to this discovery, which led to my purchasing the book for myself not long after.

Bedroom:

Where I dream.

Any suggestions on bag storage?