Logan Bellew: έρως
Artifacts encompass catalogues. Photography encases lives lived and longing life from lands unknown. Blood is profoundly placed in imagery. Its intimacy and dire needs are together and received. In Logan Bellew a journey to shores and sands with cities and men is not wasted. Life billows in hair and heart. The heart is buried unsure. Eyes are cast on photos; stories and streets emerge from elsewhere. There are no ships or roads, an intimate experience feeds passion, and all will arrive, but maybe not with certainty.
What do pictures actually mean to you?
In the time it takes to make photography it lives its own life. Fragments can be glued back together. Disciples of ancient dystopias form new histories. Techniques find growing joys. Bellew’s works are a story of autonomy slipping away. Positivity comes in forms of brokenness. Hollers of trauma necessitate education. Perhaps the self can be put back together. Materials can speak to that self; they craft ideas and images. Movement looks towards things in new ways. Residue is captured in sustained responses. The genesis of our pasts beckons us back. And forward. Tension is light and can become a source for exploration. The imagery may be new, but it is no stranger.
Arrivals are visitors. Tools shake up process and capability after something illuminates. Haunting memories provoke involuntary births. Ghosts of the mind exist in brief flashes. Bellew’s photography is ennobled in various voice and visual representations. The imagery establishes its own community. Meetings are often forced in lands where beliefs and expressions are filled to the brim with judgments and uncertainties. Connections still call and figures move forward. The works are formed in certain carnal relations. Sensations and mourning escape, and apt fragments form knowledge and secrets. There are a million reasons not to do something, but that’s never stopped the bizarre calling of frenzy before.
Bitter and sweet form edges that can imbue all mediated distances. Subjects are always in twos. Hiding reveals. Never the same. As viewers we go to other lands in the grips of photography. That ocean of imagery is indicted by decay; it’s up to minds and life to not weaken in ruin. Roaming in fields, or maybe just in corners, colleagues and associations can follow hope. Housed in wherever, that wreckage will bloom. Life is not wasted it waits for the whole Earth. A city is better when it’s Bellew’s. The boundaries are freed because they need.
To see more of Logan Bellew’s work click here.