I'm in the process of putting together an application that requires both writing and photography samples. In this process, I'm creating a lot of work that, while informative and necessary, won't be finding its way into the final product. In the meantime, I'm pretty proud of some of it! So I'm sharing them here.
Margot's self-description on Facebook: "biggest midget in the game". From her MINI to her trucker hats, that's a big 10-4.
Sidewalk leading up to the house...
Walkway onto the private property...
The front porch. I don't know about you, but I think I'd like coming home to a stone-clad porch every day.
This was one of the first things I saw when I came to visit. It made me want to throw down a cushion and take a sun nap.
Margot's apartment is on the first floor; the stairwell leading to the units above is just in front of her door. It, like everything else, is clad with natural materials and replete with indirect natural light.
From the living room to the kitchen (with, of course, a needlepoint of Michigan hanging in the pediment)...
From the living room to the bedroom...
And from the bedroom to the living room. For three rooms, her apartment feels wonderfully spacious; the French doors help, as does the orientation of the floorboards. I love my apartment, but I must confess to a certain jealousy of Margot's.
A chair in the bedroom that does nothing but hold up books? Yes please.
It's frustrating when really cool elements don't get their proper due in a drab photograph. More practice needed!
I felt like this photograph was almost really compelling. The colors almost popped; the foreground/background contrast almost really drew you in; the mix between soft and structured elements almost played. Oh well.
The goose lamp, the printer set up to print wirelessly in the fireplace because her lease prohibits open flames, the mini model of her MINI, the Dwells and Vanity Fairs, the hedgehog clock, the dog tail hook, the dark orange velvet chair: I could try, but I think the reasons I love this photograph (and its contents) are nearly countless.
Margot expounds on why the horseshoe is not, in fact, upside down. The short version is that in this orientation, it's pouring luck down on those walking through the door. You know what? I like it!
This photograph was ultimately a failure because I never got the lighting right, but I actually really like the composition. Too bad you can't see it too!
Real cowgirls drink wine. And have cowgirl coasters. Because real cowgirls also treat their furniture nicely.
First of all, the 1950s blue cabinet with the spacey appliances. Second of all, the kitchen table chock full of spices.
These are the cookbooks that a foodie has. Behold, admire, cook me something. (Just kidding.) (Unless you really want to.)
The weird thing is, the permanently-broken intercom manages not to bespeak an absent landlord...or maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part.