Photographer Laurie J. Blanksma is the Edge of Humanity Magazine contributor of this photo essay.  From the series ‘Lost’.  To see Laurie’s body of work, click on any photograph.

 

Crush

 

Self-Portrait

 

Stop

 

Going Nowhere

 

Evil is most powerful when it hides behind the mask of goodness.  It flourishes in hope and conceals itself in love.  It is the voice of God spoken by the devil.  It’s a lover, a family member or what appears to be a helpful stranger.  It is innocence destroyed. 

Lost represents a symbolic portrait of abuse in many of its most nefarious forms. Handed down or triggered by extraordinary events, some people seek to destroy the goodness in others. Human nature takes an evil turn and in its wake are the unlucky.   

Abuse was part of my upbringing and its perversion has left scars. This came into light (again) when searching the desert for photo ops.  Instead of looking up, I found myself trolling the dirt looking for broken, abandoned dolls.  I soon began bringing some of them home and eventually, I started telling their stories as I imagined them to be – unlucky and Lost. 

 

Mother’s Offspring

 

Crying

 

Mother With Child

 

The Quary

 

Artist Statement:

Reality is an interesting concept. As a photographer, sometimes mired in darkness, I find myself exploring this statement using a medium usually associated with documenting “fact.” This irony was not my original mission when I picked up a camera, yet, somehow, after thousands of shutter clicks, I find myself wallowing in pictorial illusions - a profound blend of pixels combined with that which swirls in my own mind. Both exist yet both are just a conceptual form of certainty - an interpretation of what is real.

With that, I’ve often thought reality bends to the beat of its own drummer but what if that drummer happens to hide the absolute truth? What if the drummer isn’t a drummer at all? Titles imply a definitive, but titles could mis-lead. My “drummer” was a life-time master of hate and lies. The scarring still oozes from my pores and perhaps by presenting pictorials that not only distorts reality but also shows it’s truer form, I’m still trying to find myself or rather her, piece by piece, in a myriad of self doubt and falsities all the while begging the question…Is this real?

 

All images and text © Laurie J. Blanksma

 

 

 See also:

Adrift

By Laurie J. Blanksma

 

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