I am a sentimental human, and a weird photographer. Or maybe I'm a weird human and a sentimental photographer.
I often catch myself taking photos not because I am awed by my surroundings, but because the idea of forgetting how I felt in that exact moment makes me sad. It is for this reason that many of my projects have a heavy and nostalgic energy that makes you feel kind of sad, even if you're just looking at a picture of a lizard climbing a metal pole (keep scrolling, you'll find him).
During my annual trip to Florida to visit my father, I lug around my camera and take photos because I want to remember the way the sun shone through the lime trees, the way my skin peeled off my forehead after a bad burn, and the way the sidewalk smelled in the heat.
I took these images, and sat on them. I didn't look at them for two whole years. When I opened up my computer with the intention on finishing a cityscape exhibit, even I was surprised that these images succeeded in giving me that visceral feeling I am always hoping to capture when I lug around my enormous camera on a vacation intended to be carefree. I never want to forget the way the sun shines off a city so bright and burns out my retinas, and when I look at these images I can still hear the Florida silence broken only by the neighbors' windchimes.
Hannah Walsh is a New York photographer who dabbles in all kinds of imagery that makes her feel emotions.
The collection "sarasota" is her third debut mini-series and is available for purchase online.