THE TRUTH

           In this part of the photonarrative, we were supposed to tell any story we could think of in 6 consectutive pictures. It was actually very interesting beause instead of coming up with the story first we had to think about the images and the subject and then derive a story from it. The pictures below were very hard for me to take because I had to take them in at night. Anyway, After we had developed out idea and what the 6 pictures might look like, we were given an XLR camera to take home and shoot the model nessesary for the story. After critiquing the photos in class, we made them visually enetertaining by adding many different elements to the photos. This helped make the mood of our pictures stronger and easier for the viewer to interprit the central meaning of the story. Lets see if you can figure out mine!

 

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Artist Statement


            A girl slowly peeks behind the door and notices something there. It is dark and cold in the back of her mind as she stares into the darkness. A dark figure formed within her mind. Suddenly, this feeling of insecurity filled her body. Looking for refuge, she runs to her father. But as the father looks behind the door, all he sees is black. Thinking that she lied like all the little girls seem to do, he punishes her. But that does not resolve the issue of something being there, some invader waiting for them to lower their guard. There is always something scary roaming around, even when we do not see it. It's the darkness that makes things uncertain and unsettling around us. It is where fear first emerges, takes form of what we hate the most when we are little. The worst part about it is when we are young, we are truly helpless, for who will know when we are telling the truth or not.

 

 

                                                                      Narrative Story

 

            The sun had been so bright that the snow had turned into a mirror, reflecting the glare into my eyes. My father gripped my hand in the swarm of people.  Everyone looked like Eskimos including myself. After treading in the snow for while, he finally led me to this small snow-covered building that reeked of sweat and moisture. After a rather long conversation, a sticker was slapped against my chest. My father told me, “Don’t lose this. If we were to get lost, this is your one ticket to get to me. OK?” The thought of even being separated from my father for one second sent images of being snatched away by a stranger into my mind. I clenched his hand tighter.
            We trudged through the snow again, but this time we made our way over to this tent-shaped building. The sign on the front read Snow Valley Ski School in large red letters. The edges of the roof reached all the way down to the ground and even under the snow so you couldn’t map out its complete appearance. Inside, I saw many kids around my age. They all looked confused and one was even crying. The next thing I knew, my father handed me over to a man with a red vest and smiled, I could not smile back.
            “This is your ski teacher sweetie, he will teach you how to ski like mommy and daddy. Now everything will be alright, your only going for about an hour,” my dad told me while kneeling at my height. My eyes must have gotten wide because I could feel the cold breeze on them when someone opened the front door.
            My dad walked out the door and met my shivering mother in the cold. They both walked away, disappearing into the sprinkling bits of snow. Grief and fear swelled up inside me;  small tears formed within the corners of my eyes. But then the instructor took my hand and held it tight. The tears no longer fell down my cheeks, but I still had a sick feeling within me.
            “We’ll start with the small mountain runs first ok? But first we need to get to the top,” the man said. It was only then that I looked at his face. He didn’t look like a teacher to me. He had a large sunburn across his face and smelled of wet sunscreen. He accidentally dropped his skis and a bunch of kids trampled over them. I watched him hastily pick up his skis from the floor. Having my doubts, I still followed him outside and into another building. It was starting to snow much harder and the people who had been standing outside were now heading indoors. But we continued to press on, towards the gondola; a machine that carried many little carts by one single cable. There were no people coming in or out of them. 
            “So, do you and your Daddy come up to the snow often,” the man asked, smiling as the tram slowly moved up the cable. He was a stranger to me, so I remained silent. He continued to try to ask me questions, “Do you have any brothers or sisters? Do they like to ski? It’s ok to be nervous.” I just ignored him. The tram shook against the large blows of the wind. I grabbed the bench to keep myself in balance. As I stared outside the window, all I could think about were my parents and what they could be doing right now. With a loud screech the tram came to a stop. I could hear the wind whistle by the windows of the lodge. Many people walked past us and entered the trams down the mountain side. Still with an awful feeling in my stomach, I knew I had to keep moving.
            “Now you follow after me! And be sure to not get lost!” the instructor yelled trying to overcome the roaring sound of the wind. “But I can’t ski!” I yelled back.
There was no answer. The instructor was so occupied with what was in front of him; he never bothered to look back; to see that I was not there. I stood there, not knowing where to go next. It started to get dark.
            Never had I been alone before and without my parents to comfort me. I was too scared to cry. I was at the very top of the mountain, snow blowing in my face from every direction. I knew that there were trees around, but I couldn’t see anything. I decided to not chance trying to ski in the dark. I started to shake, furiously, but it was not from the cold. Trudging into the black, snowy storm, I searched for any sign of life. Maybe the instructor, who carelessly left me, would come back to get me. After waiting a while, I finally came to the shocking conclusion that he wasn’t coming back. I tossed my ski’s aside and started to walk into the storm.
            After walking for a little while, I felt like I had the right direction in my mind and slowly made my way towards the darkness. While the wind tried to push me back, I forced myself forward; whichever way forward was. Then I thought I heard a small whisper in the breeze. I glanced behind me, hoping to find the owner of that voice, but there was no one.
            I felt a burst of terror run through me. Maybe it was a wolf or so creature that was looking for some form of dinner. Crying now, I tried to run anywhere my mind could think of, hoping that the speed would help me get home sooner or anywhere near help.  There were also constant booms that I heard from behind that help give boost to my sprints. I still could not see as I continued in the snow but I could make out the shape of trees covered in snow. All the while I was thinking of my parents and why they did this to me. They were probably enjoying a cup of hot chocolate and sitting in front of a warm fire, and talking about what we would do for our next holiday break. I wished I could see them again and to apologize for anything I might have done to make them mad.
            Suddenly, I heard a faint voice, one that was not blended into the wind. I stopped running and twirled around, listening for the voice again. It seemed unmistakably real to me. I heard the voice again; it was getting louder and it was definitely a mans voice. The voice seemed comforting so I waited, hoping that he would find me before I froze to death. As he approached me, I embraced him with an open hug and felt the warmth of his body heat. The snow covered his face but I could still hear him. The booms became louder.
            “What are you doing here at this time of night?” the man asked me. He was wearing an orange colored jacket with some sort of logo written on the front. The snow made it impossible to make out. I couldn’t make out the details of his face; he wore his hood so tight on his head that all you could see was his goggles. I told him why I was here but he didn’t seem to hear me. “Anyways, lets get you back down the mountain, ok? Its dangerous out here, especially when we are blasting.” I hugged him again in my reply. “Now follow closely,” he said as he clenched my hand. Tears of joy streamed down my face. As the man clenched my hand, an image of my father flashed before my eyes. I hugged him again. We waddled down the mountain for some time before he asked again what had happened to me. I told him about how my mother and father gave me to a complete stranger and how he forced me to come up here. “Thank you sir, and I p-promise to n-never come up here again!” I stuttered as we shanked through the snow banks. He stopped and gave me a hug. “There is nothing to be afraid of when you are on the mountain and there is nothing that can hurt you aside from the biting cold,” he said to me, squeezing my hand. I felt relieved for the first time that night.
             BOOM! This time we could both hear it. The man paused and soon his hand became shaky like mine. I thought he was cold. Immediately, he ran off, leaving me alone again. I felt like a kitten being tossed aside by its mother. I sat still. That was it, I give up. The ground started to rumble as I sat down.
            BOOM! My legs wouldn’t move and my thoughts were chaotic. I was trapped. A rush of wind came bellowing after the rumble. I would be left here on the mountain to rot forever. As I knelt close to the ground, I couldn’t help but think of my parents, I thought of where they might be. A rush of anger came when I though of my father once more. Why did he do this? Why did he make me go through this horrifying experience called skiing? It was the only thought that filled my mind while waiting in the snow.
I could feel myself sinking into the snow, closing my eyes as I lost consciousness. I still though of my dad when a cold rush of snow came over my body, along with a loud roar of toppling trees. 
           

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