Journal — Liza Battestin

35mm, November 2019. Lille, FR.

120mm, Domaine de la Vaucluse, FR.

Mamiya RB67

120mm, Bonnieux and Marseille, FR.

Mamiya RB67

35mm, October 2019. Arles, FR.

35mm, October 2019, Le Corbusier’s Cité Radieuse, Marseille, FR.

35mm, October 2019. Cassis, FR.

35mm, October 2019. Aix-en-Provence, FR.

In the morning

The soft pink glow spreads across the drapes

The morning light peeking in

To warm the evening chill

Flesh upon flesh

Twisted and bent

Meeting for the first time

Fingers tracing birthmarks

Tattoos

Imperfections to be imprinted in the brain

Warm breath

Hushed sounds

Creaks and moans

Tangling landscapes in the sun

Valleys and peaks

All a hush laid in softness

35mm May 2019. Lafayette, LA

Slow Summer Daze

Almost 95 before 9am

It’s miserable

You can’t breathe outside in the humidity

The air thick, presses against your body

While the sweat begins to collect on your upper lip

A tender dampness

The sun is baking down

The concrete hits you from below

As above, so below- gathering and collecting rays and heat

Then-

A breeze

Small enough to shake the leaves of the crepe myrtle

Just for a moment

Despite your suffering

You are happy

Like the tiny flowers raining down from the tree

Almost like a southern snow

At the end of summer

35mm, Kodax Max 400, July 2019. New Orleans, LA.

Jazz Fest 2019: Hot Kids Edition

35mm, Kodax Tri-X 400, April 2019. New Orleans, LA

Waiting for the Sunset

I sit.

I glance at the window.

Moving the shade every so often to see how close until sunset.

I wait.

I think about my future.

I feel anxious; like the the sun must feel preparing for her final display.

Glory.

I stand.

I walk over to the window.

I gaze upon delivery aircrafts with loading equipment waiting there for activity.

I return.

I prepare as the tears whelm up inside.

I make a plan.

I wonder.

What will it look like?

Will it be soft as cotton candy or bold and fierce like the desert?

I walk.

Over to the shades to draw them so slightly.

Expanding my horizons to see the entire picture.

I gaze.

I pause to reflect on the beauty.

It doesn’t fully happen until she’s almost gone.

I remember.

The patterns and colors of the earlier light.

Piecing together the fragments of color in my mind.

WHOOM!

A plane takes off distracting me from my thoughts.

Where are they going? I think.

I relax.

I enjoy this time.

It’s been wonderful and I don’t want to spoil the light just yet.

There she goes.

Past the line.

I can no longer see her but her beauty lingers.

I know.

She will return again tomorrow.

But she will be different.

And so on

She builds

Her knowledge. Her strength. Her power.

She changes.

Each cycle becoming part of the whole.

Always preparing for the next moment of awe in her own right.

Trumpets

I see the buds

Tightly wound

Awaiting bloom

To open

To become

They will unwind themselves

Creating a sleek, elegant trumpet

Their scent

Something you can only enjoy during the night

Under the dark sky and lingering hours of the dawn

When morning comes and birds began to chirp

And everything is covered in a soft, cool dew

That’s when they wait

For the night’s return

To attract the creatures

To lure them with her scent

To open

To become

Layers

As I pull off another piece I stare in awe

The lines, fragments, holes

The tears of skin

Marking my past

The bottom rough and thick

They have carried me all my life.

Experiences: moments in the sand and grass

Barefoot running across hot concrete

Scorching my feet to see if they’re still there

I dig into my heels, metaphorically and literally

Another piece

This one goes too deep and the blood begins to ooze

They say you shouldn’t peel them

But I can’t help it

Fascinated

That as I move from the side to the top

The texture changes

The sides, resembling the lines in the sand of a zen garden

The way it curls at the edges as if used paper; read thousands of times over

Lastly, the top

Soft and fresh

It feels like baby skin

Always exposed but it never hardens

It’s always the underneath that’s rough

The dark, unexposed thick skin

That even when peeled is so thick the lines are muddled

You can’t tell the difference between the individual layers

It just creates one hard, unyielding piece

Wedding Crasher

120mm, Ilford HP5, March 2019. New Orleans, LA.

Scorpio Soulmate.

35mm, Fujifilm Superia Reala, March 2019. New Orleans, LA.

Dinner with my best friend.

120mm, Fujicolor Reala, March 2019. New Orleans, LA.

Scenes from SXSW.

35mm, Fujifilm Superia Reala, March 2019. Austin, TX.

East Texas

35mm, Fujifilm Superia Reala, March 2019. HWY 290

Southern Blooms

35mm, Fujifilm Superia Reala, March 2019. Lake Charles, LA.

The Menil: Thoughts on the Jasper Johns Exhibit

The lights are dimly light making it hard to see many of the pencil marks, was that intentional? Did they want you to have to get up close? To dissect every inch of the image in front of you, like the cut out map…

When I stand the map breaks into shapes and colors. It reminds me of Ziggy Stardust.

Floating in space; high above the others.

Red hair.

Looking at colors and forms.

Foot steps. The mixture of languages being spoken. How many images transform for these people? Can they see it with their faces wedged into the tiny details? Or, do we need to step back? Allow the emotions and shapes to breathe and create themselves.

The sounds soften. Just footsteps now.

35mm Kodak Portra, January 2019. The Menil, Houston, TX.

Southwest Louisiana

I have always felt a part of this land. I do not come from here; yet I was born here. Raised elsewhere but not too far.

Is it the wanting desire that drives me here? Or, is it an innate connection to the land, the sounds, and people?

35mm Fujifilm Disposable Camera and 35mm Kodak Portra, January 2019. Cochon de Lait in Ossun, LA

My Lady, My Love, My City

The place where everything seems easy. Like a friendly hug in the dark night.

She engulfs you with her warmth,

her scent,

and her attitude.

She immediately welcomes you; there is no courting time.

As if all at once, you are connected.

For some, she can be a lifelong love. For others, she is a torrid and dark affair.

Either way, she penetrates your hearts and leaves a dark stain.

35mm Kodak Portra, January 2019. New Orleans, LA

Back in that place, once so familiar and now so unknown. Creeping amongst the shadows and listening to the owls as the sun begins to set.

35mm Fujifilm Disposable Camera. November 2018 Jungle Gardens at the Tabasco Visitor Center in Avery Island, LA

Home

I feel at home in the land; amongst the sky and the sounds.

I like the focus on solitude, intuition and survival.

Scooting along bumpy, overgrown roads next to ditches and waterways littered with egrets and herons.

Eyes bright as they hunt fish.

Drawing their elegant legs up as they take off with any sudden movements.

Soaring over tall grasses to perch in trees and bushes.

35mm Expired Fujifilm Neopan 400 film. November 2018 Big Lake, LA

Breath

Usually it’s so hot in the marsh that you can hardly tell the difference between the warm arm surrounding you and and your breath. You become one with the sense; choking on heat and humidity.

Today was cool though; it sank right to your bones. The wet air making you heavier in your steps.

Crawling through the various landscapes, listening to birds flutter and caw;

Is it ever a wonder where you are?

35mm Kodak Portra. November 2018 Jungle Gardens at the Tabasco Visitor Center in Avery Island, LA

The Low Country

The familiarity of the streets and smells. The voices calling my name as I return to the places I have known. Somehow, they feel different now. As if suspended in time, soaking in the bask glow of the Autumn light.

35mm Expired Walgreens Professional Film circa 2004. Shot and Developed October 2018. Scenes from Savannah, GA, Southeast Louisiana and Houston, TX.