Four years ago, I started the photography Project 365. The idea was simple, if difficult to commit to: take one photo every single day for 365 days. Sharing the project online would hold me accountable, I figured, and it worked. I photographed, stored, post processed and posted all 365.
That was 2013. Fast forward four years, bluish glow illuminating from my screen. I’m on a flight next to, presumably, a Statistics teacher, who is raving on about his students. Low whir of plane engine–here goes, nostalgia lane, and I scroll through the album.
Photos depicted the expected. Essays, tests, new friends, old friends. People I quit talking to. People I started talking to. The dance, the trips, the endless summer drives. Relief, happiness, irritation, impatience, excitement, all rolled into one visual lump.
It felt strange looking back. Had me and xyz really been that close? Realization that things–images– aren’t always what they seem. My diary entries were angstier. Then a light wash of guilt that, over time, I’d lost touch with certain friends. But, well, people come and go, and they’re supposed to.
Still. It felt odd seeing our goofy faces, old friends, heaps of inside jokes. Regardless, this Project 365 brings me a sort of happiness in it of itself. Cue: flickers of nostalgia, fade to black.