Skybox

Found a box of slides. Someone else's skies and landscapes. Thirty years old, maybe more. No names, no stories. Picture 1 Projected slide with body part. Picture 2 - 14 Projected slides on snow.

Found a box of slides. Someone else's skies and landscapes. Thirty years old, maybe more. No names, no stories.

Picture 1 Projected slide with body part. Past landscape meeting me.
Picture 2 - 14 Projected slides on snow. Past meeting the present landscape.

A notable aspect of the found collection is the repetition. The original photographer consistently captured the sky with more or less landscape, in a way that recalls how children often repeat actions as they explore and engage with their environment. This repeated act reflects an intrinsic human desire to observe and record, not for a larger purpose, but as a simple, uninterrupted expression of curiosity.

There is a lightness in this act, a simple joy in looking up, unburdened by the weight of life's complexities. The act of capturing these images becomes more about observation itself than about attaching meaning or purpose.

Over time, these images grew on me and with me. Their consistency became a form of language, a way of observing the world not through novelty, but through an ongoing, almost meditative process. In their persistence, I recognized both the child’s sense of wonder and the adult’s quiet need to hold onto something fleeting.

By rephotographing and projecting the slides onto my body and onto snow, I introduce a new layer of transformation, which shifts the original documentary intent of the images. This personal re-contextualization challenges their initial purpose, infusing them with new meaning.