Move on

It was the the grand finale of a gradually deteriorating week, a week in which my pursue of trouble finally caught up with me.

Sunday night I went out. My highly motivated adventure hunt usually ends up with me alone in bed with tea and series but this night was different. Out and about through 5 different places with the best people, a good mix of high quality intoxicators running through, I was counting my blessings. I was so busy counting I decided to elongate my trip home, riding my bike along the river. I was flash backing my weekend in Paris the previous month, where I met a group of guys having fun on their bikes. "It's a boy thing" I told him after he asked if I wanna ride. And there I was sizzling left and right cold air in my cigarette hair. The next thing I knew I was crashing against a parked car.

Monday I received a letter announcing I owe a large sum of money. Tuesday I was riding my not-so-easy-on-the-ear crushed ass bike to the watch shop, only to discover the two watches were no longer in need of repair having fallen off my pocket (when you buy a new jacket you really gotta test those pockets beforehand).

Wednesday I got robbed walking back from work by two very welcomed syrian refugees just a street away from my home. They took everything I had including a brand new MacBook Pro- a present from my parents for becoming a freelancer (thanks mom) and a Wacom they had no idea what to do with so they left the pen. I was absolutely devastated, angry at my neighborhood which I called home and hurt by the aggressive German police (fdp!). That night ended with me lying down on the sidewalk than getting up showing everyone my gymnastic skills from the third grade... everything just not to think about the next day.

How to disappear completely / Radiohead

On Saturday morning, feeling like a truck is parked directly on my heart I turned to the only tech device I still owned- my camera, which it's memory card I found lying in the rain the day after where it all went down. As I was sitting there in my kitchen sewing this fragile heart, I started to vaguely remember what is important to me in life, feeling thankful it's still there and getting started in my struggle- to move on.

Image making

I was playing around with the idea of sewing a heart for some time in my head but had no concept. Like most ideas- they seem to surface when they're ready. The challenges in making this image were definitely the sewing and photography work. I sew two different hearts, starting with a red string and moving on to a blue one to increase readability. I was working intuitively as far as the shape of the letters and had to perpetually adjust the level of tension I used in my stitches. I love going full hands on with my props, it felt special working so intimate with those soft fragile hearts, going in and out of them, almost sexual in a necrophilian kind of way.

I took the photo using two different backgrounds- blue paper as well as my hand. I started off with the blue paper, switching to the hand thinking the intimacy of it would compliment the heart motive, than going back to the blue paper due to contrast reasons and how well it fitted in with my existing images. This heart is so tiny so it took a while to get a good focus on it. I'm definitely considering buying a macro lens for these kind of shoots, once I replace my Wacom and laptop, of course.

© 2020 Harduf Rubin