“Of course you can’t see me, for I’m not my former. It’s hard when your stuck upon the shelf. I change by not changing at all …”
Why does that famous PJ lyric pop into my head when I think of Charlie Grosso? Well, because this amazing photographer and world traveler knows good music. In fact, I found her work within the abyss of social media, through a “tweet” about Pearl Jam. Coincidentally, she was also an artist so naturally I checked out her work. I was taken through the most breathtaking and intimate journey of the world, and I invite you to do the same.
Today, while I looked through her photographs for my Curated series, I listened to PJ’s Ten. Try it. It’s an awesome experience. You see, Ten was that CD my childhood friend and I would call “home”. Whenever we felt lost, we played that CD. To this day, we still do it. It reaches a core within us that is indescribable … but whatever that subconscious place is, it feels comfortable and familiar. I have often questioned the idea of “home”, which is why I was so drawn to Charlie, her work and her travelogue called Fetal Position and Drool. In 2009, Charlie walked away from a life she was building with someone else. Her work and travels took her to different places around the world. She photographed the many beds she slept in during this journey and she questioned the idea of home. In her search for the definition of home, she discovered that the word is just that, a word. It only holds meaning within our minds, and is not a physical place.
We all go through transitions in life. During these moments, where did you find your “home” and how – outside of the boundaries of a physical space – would you define it?
Take a trip with Charlie on her site or follow her 140 characters of brilliance on Twitter. I also used one her photographs for my curated Museum Garden series on Kirtsy. Have a look. Oh, and to see where the photos were taken, just hover your mouse over the image.
Wonderful work – so provocative and inviting!
I’ve always considered my home in my heart and mind. The place where I could rationally walk myself to a calm space and feel happy again….. My home is where my golden son will sleep soundly.
I’ve struggled with the concept of home and in that struggle have experienced bouts of indecision. That’s for the post and photos. It allowed me to think outside the box.
I know exactly what you mean about finding music, and for me movies as well, that feel like home. Almost Famous is one of those movies. It comforts me for some reason and it’s because it’s so far removed from my own reality. Duncan Sheik’s first album was home for a long time after my uncle died. And more recently, the In the Heights soundtrack has felt a lot like home.
At this point in my life as long as I am with my children, I’m home.
Beautiful photos! For me home is returning to my sense of familiar. It can be a smell, taste, sight or sound. Like smelling Johnson’s baby shampoo, I remember my mother washing my hair. Home is a good meal. Or like going to my old neighborhood, visiting my mother, going to Puerto Rico. Or whenever a song comes on that I used to play over and over again.