It is far from a landmark on one’s daily route, disguised as a twin to each and every other home enveloping it. The eyes may pause on the logo in an otherwise crestless neighborhood, but the moment is fleeting and forgotten.
The residence is routinely reclaimed by travelers as rejected memories. Thoughts of their lives, personal or professional leave little room for other musings. The house leaves no trace of contemplation in the oblivious mind, creates no inspiration, and causes no hesitation. It is nothing.
They pass the house, the block, the street, the city, only to continue the meaningless cycle on their return.
Those who know what lies behind that dull wooden gate regard it as a passage to a colorful wonderland, an awesome cache open to all. It is as treasure hunters that they come, armed with curiosity and riches, to exchange for the riches they find.
It is hard to contain their growing excitement as they delve deeper, exploring the nooks and crannies of this marvelous collection. They are awed by a myriad of goods from far east and near west. They are dazzled by the abundance of chests and fabrics. They have finally found an oasis of wonder in their unextraordinary dunes.
As the journey continues, their excitement melts into tranquility. They are moved by the hospitality. They are touched by warmth. They want to stay forever.
By the time they must depart, they almost feel at home. And so they leave, pledging to return, and to spread word of this magical gallery, so that those who pass it unknowingly will forever have a landmark on their route.
The sounds invade from beyond the barricade, muffled threats to his familiar comfort. He thinks back, as he always does when in the presence of alien chatter, to times more serene, when his home was his home, without a slash-something on the end. The living room was a living room and not a display. The kitchen was a kitchen and not a lobby.
One attempt to utilize a pillow to shut the noise out later, a sigh escapes his lips. Strangers have once again managed to end his slumber prematurely, without exhausting their ammunition, he’s sure. He is quickly growing tired of waking up.
He emerges from the bed, grumbling quietly so as not to scare off the so called treasure hunters, and walks across his pleasant prison until he reaches its border - a thin slab of wood separating privacy from frustration. He cracks the door open to see if he can leave.
For your challenge I chose the most important thing in my life to show in 3 different perspectives: My house. If you spend a little time on this site, you’ll find that my home doubles as a gallery/store for Asian and European furniture. We have customers coming in and out all day. The privacy we had before the gallery’s opening is no more.
Once I picked my subject, I searched for 3 perspectives that would complement each other and create something whole. I wound up with:
- Those who don’t know about the gallery
- The customers entering my home – not as a home but as a store
The order of the set is meant to show the house from outside to inside, from impersonal to personal.
I then created 3 bodies of text, one for each perspective. I wanted each perspective to illustrate a feeling so I built a list of suitable words for each. I then created the text using those words. The feelings I wanted to illustrate (respectively):
Each perspective is exaggerated as the nuances aren’t obvious to an outsider.
Since the project is about my house, I wanted the actual place to appear in the project, so others could possibly feel the area and gain a better understanding of the situation. This is why I chose photography as my medium.
I attempted to create the same feelings with my photos as I did with my text. The lighting and colors are deliberate: Vivid colors for wonder, dark lighting for threat and a low contrast for apathy.
All the photos are focused on a near object, with the background slightly blurred. This is to show that people only see what’s close to them. Everyone sees reality a different way and it’s hard to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.
Once I had the photos and text ready, I picked font colors and backgrounds for the text which, again, were meant to pass their respective feelings. The background for the whole composition was chosen to be the background for the last item (my own perspective) because although I am showing different perspectives in the set, the one I most relate to is, surprisingly, my own.
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