Photovoice Project

 

Hello, everyone! 

 I hope Spring is being kind to everyone! Minus some pretty scary storms it's actually been a lovely spring here in STL, though I fear it's almost over as the temps are gradually (and some days not so gradually) creeping up. 

  About one month ago I was scrolling instagram and I came across a call for research participants that I thought sounded interesting. An art therapy grad student in Maryland is doing her thesis research on substance-use related deaths and was looking for people who have specifically had that type of loss. The timing was interesting as my Dad's anniversary was nearby and thus on my mind and it had been occurring to me that I needed to talk about his death more and be more open etc. I decided to join the project because I was interested, curious, and looking for community around this experience. (Not to mention I remember extremely well what it's like to be writing a thesis and need research participants). It's a photovoice project so that means that each participant submitted three photos that were to capture/communicate what your experience was with grief following a substance related death and/or something you wish other people knew about your experience of grief following a substance-related death. After everyone submitted their photos and captions we all met on zoom to discuss and categorize the photos according to theme. That was yesterday and it was really interesting. 

  I decided to write this post as a way to share my three photos with all of you as well as have some additional space to process themes I found between my three pics. 

 Here are the three pictures and captions I wrote for each one: 

I came across this tree in the park that I regularly take walks in. The extensive branch network made me think of the human nervous system and also of grief. There are so many twists and turns in grief, so many split paths and off-shoots. I was also drawn to the metaphor that this tree appears to be dead but is surrounded by life, something about that resonated with my grief journey as at times I feel like the world around me is thriving and lush and I am dead and hollow.

I took this photograph while on a walk in a park that I regularly walk in. For reasons that I can't express verbally, this photo captures parts of my grief. The vastness and emptiness soothe the parts of me that yearn for my Dad. There also appears to be something about life beyond death but I would have to give it more thought in order to articulate the notion more fully.

This photo was taken in the Caribbean Sea in November of 2023. At first glance I thought this was the sun, but given the time of day and other factors it is in fact the moon being lit by the sun. This really resonated with me because it's not often, if ever, that the sun and the moon appear interchangeable. In the first moments when I learned of my Dad's passing I felt my world turn upside down. This photo captures that moment to me because the confusion is similar: which is the sun and which is the moon? Which way is up and which is down?

   So yea, those are the three pictures I chose. It was an interesting experience to capture these photos. I struggled to be honest. Nothing was sad enough, had enough agony or despair, was dark and painful enough. A friend helped me realize that no one picture is going to hold all of my grief, and that each photo will only contain parts of it. 

  The first two (of the tree) I took specifically for the project. Of the pictures that I took I was having a hard time coming up with a third to submit so I decided to dig into my archive of photos and find a past one that resonated. I settled on this one. I just remember when I was first told that my Dad had passed I felt the world literally turn. There was something about that that this photo captured for me. 

   One thing that I noticed that I can't stop thinking about is that one of my pictures is of the sun and one is of the moon. I'm not sure what that means? If anything, I suppose. Additionally, the sun and moon often make appearances in my work for about the last 3-4 years. They aren't ever the focus or the subject, but they are nonetheless both present. I have lots of examples but here are the ones I can share: 

My therapist and I made this together in like 2020ish. 

Mountains and valleys painted with coffee, Spring 2022. 

"The Stories We Crave" Watercolor Resist, Spring 2022.

   I used to think that their collective presence in my work was to signify the passing of time. When I apply that to grief I'm not sure how I feel or if it fits? The moon photo was taken in November of last year and the sun was taken in May of this year. I haven't really noticed anything about my grief shifting in that time except that it's grown due to some other things going on in my family. I guess it feels significant to me that I ended up with a photo of each the sun and the moon but I don't know what to make of it? If anyone has any theories I am all ears. I'll have to keep thinking about all of this and processing what it means. If I come up with anything maybe I'll do a part II of this post. 

   Thanks for reading, wishing you love and light <3 

Veronica