Sweet souls,
I used to be a different person. Not by a lot, but I was different. I like to think I'm better now than I was before. Though who's to say? Not me, that's for sure. You're not allowed to by Dutch standards; speaking good of yourself — you need to remain humble. At all times. I tend to avoid unnecessary conflict, so I like to shut up about things as much as I can. But sometimes, I just can't help myself. Every month for the past 33(!) months I've not shut up, when I sent this newsletter. This is my moment to speak my mind, to share my current perspective, to reflect.
Okay then... who's gonna determine I've indeed grown as a person? There's hardly anybody in my life that was there, say, ten years ago. Is that a bad thing? Perhaps not so much. Because, let's be honest, the person I am today also wasn't there ten years ago.
You know what was there ten years ago? Photography. That's when it all started for me. That's when I found something I could fully indulge in, get lost with, align my identity with. It gave me guidance, comfort, purpose. Right from the beginning, up until today. Hopefully for much longer too. I can't begin to explain the personal growth photography has brought me. You know who can bring some perspective, though? Not current me, we've determined that, but past me. His dumb ass has been recorded saying a few things that only partly or not at all align with what I'd say today.
July 9th, 2015
Does your project have a name?
"Not really. I just call it '365 Days of Amersfoort'. I only started taking photos a year ago. I discovered iPhone photography, taking professional photos, and editing them on my phone. I posted them on Instagram. That’s how it started."
You’re already halfway there.
"Yes, 188 photos. When I had taken fifty photos, I thought: now I've probably photographed all the places in Amersfoort. But now I constantly challenge myself. I don't photograph the cliché images of the city; I always try to look at it from an original angle. This way, I push myself to post a photo every day and to get better."
What kind of photo are you going to take today?
"Sometimes I spend all day mulling over what photo I want to take. Sometimes I wake up and know it immediately. I just thought of photographing that beautiful, Amsterdam-like neighborhood along the Eemhaven."
Which one do you think is the most beautiful?
"The one that gets the most responses is a photo of old buildings at the Hof, with the Onze Lieve Vrouwe Tower in the background after a heavy rain. Personally, I choose a photo that took me a lot of effort. Day 99. Spring is Buzzing: a bee on a flower in the city. Yesterday, I climbed the tower for the first time in 23 years to take a rooftop photo. That was also very special."
The municipality of Amersfoort shares a lot of your photos.
"Yes, the municipality really likes my photos. I get hundreds of likes and comments. That motivates me. It’s not fun to go out every single day, but I’m proud when I manage to do it."
Ten years
It's been ten years since I've last been here in a similar capacity: on my own, camera in hand, seeing what there is to see. It's been ten years of photography. So far, already. Back then it was an iPhone 5, then some cheap Samsung (or was it Sony, a Canon?) camera I had lying around, then an iPhone 6s. Sometimes supported by this tiny Joby GorillaPod tripod, you know the ones with the bendy legs, that only worked with my phone. I wasn't even thinking about a 'proper' camera yet. It might've looked like I was merely exploring and taking photos. But it was much more than that; I was learning to be present, to see the world with different eyes. More curious eyes, empathic eyes, and hopefully someday, more patient eyes.
It's been ten years since I hopped on my sorry excuse of a bike and cycled down to the sand drifts in the village nearby. Not with any specific purpose other than getting out of the house for a bit. Perhaps to photograph some lone trees in the sand or something. Life was much simpler back then.
I'm there again today and the trees that once reached up to my waist now tower over me. The area is the same, but it looks different. It doesn't feel different, though. It's been ten years, but it feels familiar. As if I'm returning to a place I should've been all along. As if I figured out where to be ten years ago already but had to go and see many different other places and things for me to realize I've found my home already. Does that mean I never should've left? To what capacity are those things in my life right now, I wonder. I wouldn't know. I can't know, not right now. But I do have an idea of how to find out.
Here's to ten more years of photography, exploration, curiosity, empathy, and growth. I'm looking forward to quoting this newsletter in Dialogue 159 and going, 'look at what this dumbass thought back in 2024.'
Mitch