Every Sunday, I contact photographers previously featured on PHOTOSNACK and ask them to send me their spontaneous thoughts, observations, reflections, or advice.
Today, I am sharing the message I received from Brandon Sheer.
Brandon Sheer
I’ve had intermittent bouts of insomnia since I was 17.
Before then, I could sleep nearly anywhere and through almost anything. I can hear the Freudian explanations as to why I chose to photograph something as intimate as a bed being hypothesized as I’m writing this. Pragmatically speaking, I feel as though I often photograph motel rooms I’ve stayed in as an attempt to fight the inevitable comedown from my days spent on the road, where I’m submerged in the unencumbered, childlike act of wandering, all in hopes of finding an image that speaks to me.
Fewer sounds are more lonely than the heavy thud of the worn motel room door closing behind me. Suddenly, I’m acutely aware of the fact that I’m all alone in a strange city, far away from anyone and anything I know to be true. I often sit in those hotel rooms and wonder what I’m trying to outrun by driving from city to city and taking photos. The imposter syndrome begins to creep in as I lay in those beds that are not my own, and I question if anyone will care about what I’m attempting to do or if I will ever make images that inspire others.
A year ago, I started working on this long-term project, which was about my attempt to find commonality in an increasingly divisive and lonely time in America. As this project started to take shape, I realized it was as much about personal introspection as it is about looking outwards in hopes of understanding all that’s become foreign to me. Despite the outcome, I always slept better knowing that I had taken the photo rather than pining for all the missed photos I hadn’t taken because I was too tired to set up my camera.
Brandon Sheer was featured in PHOTOSNACK #339.
Sunday Editions connect you with photographers whose work you previously explored through PHOTOSNACK.
I want to reveal some authentic parts of the people behind the cameras.
I don't ask them any specific questions. I ask them to share whatever comes to mind when they think about YOU, the newsletter readers.
It makes their responses genuine and personal.
I hope you enjoyed today's Sunday Edition.
Until next time,
Tomasz
Just WOW! I can't stop thinking about the words he added to his work. Thank you for sharing.
Love his work and introspective approach in his narrative. Those mournful thuds echo in my mind from previous trips traversing back and forth and up and down the U.S. Timely, too, as I embark later today on a solo trip through Japan.
Thank you!