A Departure - Barcelona, Spain by Lucas Anderson

Flying and I have never gotten along very well, so I was surprised to find Terminal 1 at El Prat to be one of the most calming places I have ever visited. I had the uninvited honor of walking the length of the terminal to one of the last gates, but I experienced it with the tranquil breeze that comes after the end of a whirlwind vacation. Abundant light flows uninhibited across its seemingly endless ceiling and reflective surfaces. The whole space is a placid blue—about as warm as blue can get before you start calling it green. A heterotopia of flying both in its construction and in the feelings it invokes. Freedom, safety, and serenity within a vast cathedral of the sky was a welcomed imagination v. the dark, sweaty, and sterile fuselage I was about to be stuck in for the next 10 hours.

Thanks to Ben, Joey and Diana for dealing with the tendency of my mind—and consequently my feet—to wander.

On Set - Seattle, WA by Lucas Anderson

During a play rehearsal, actors and actresses go back and forth between being themselves, to critically thinking theater artists trying to create the best piece possible, to characters performing for the handful of empty chairs in front of them that make up their imaginary audience. The performers are essentially pretending to pretend; their reality is constantly changing. Watching that develop in each individual as well as the entire group as an intimate collective of performers is one of my favorite environments for visual listening. 

As a documentarian, my intent is to capture a certain reality. Theater makes this pretty difficult. What exactly is my subject? Am I capturing the play? The people? Are they performing for themselves, the nonexistent crowd, or me? With this knowledge, does the viewer of these photos see overly dramatic posed photos—they are actors, after all—or a visual representation of the mental and emotional prism that is born out of this kind of cerebral gymnastics?

You can be the judge.

Thanks to Stephanie and the rest of the cast and crew of Flu Season for allowing me to bounce around their set for a couple nights.

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Human Work - Olympia, WA by Lucas Anderson

I love wood working. I haven’t figured out if it’s nostalgia, inception via a certain mustachioed manly man, or just a classic case of millennial romanticism. As a photographer, the idea of an precise art is enchanting. Few schools of art have total control of their medium, and they tend to be three-dimensional and tactile vocations.

These art forms—wood working, sculpture, etc.—also have a unique and similarly fascinating property of creation through destruction. Removing or altering material to form the final piece instead of adding color, light, or sound to an otherwise void canvas.

Ultimately, it is just about working with your hands. An art and trade that is humane: visual, aural, tactile, kinetic, and spatial. 

Thanks to Sarah and Rex their for house and home.

Night Climb - Austin, TX by Lucas Anderson

A pair of climbing shoes in your backpack provides a special kind of possibility. The collaborative nature of the sport combined with the growing homogeneity of global subcultures almost guarantees a friend and an adventure in an unfamiliar place. A three-day stop in Austin this summer turned into a week-long exploration of what has become one of my favorite cities in the US, thanks in part to a group of climbers who brought me to the limestone crags in the Barton Creek Greenbelt.

Climbing at night is the ultimate in vertical mind training. Being suspended forty feet in the air by a rope I couldn't see and a rock I could only feel gave intention, trust, and purpose to my movements at a level that my daylight-climbing self only dreams of.

Thanks to Claudia, Renee, Captain and friends.