I Want to Run.

I never wanted to run away as a kid, I guess this is how you know that you had a wonderful childhood, wonderful parents, wonderful family, wonderful friends in a wonderful little town quietly tucked away from the rest of the not so wonderful world. I was fed, I was clothed (not without a fight …

A Great Year For Life.

Almost titled: What it was like to be an artist for Kaitlyn Jo Smith in 2016.. Here it is, the comprehensive, everything I've done in 2016 blog post, more for my reference than yours. It seems like just last week I was writing 2015's post and as predicted 2016 was a year of intense growth and …

Months After Maine.

Months after Maine and Vacationland I managed to find the time to develop, scan, edit and share the film I shot while there (and honestly couldn't have done so at a better time). It has been so gray here in Columbus that I have nearly forgotten how wondrous the sky can be. The colors of Maine …

Vacationland III.

Growing up was/is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. This reality is expressed in Vacationland, a project rooted in the idea of running away to discover truth. A timeline of events, part one focuses on the early years, part two junior high and the beginnings of puberty, and part three the ascent into …

Vacationland II.

Here is another selection of words and images from my most recent project, Vacationland. See the first batch of images and read more about the project here.  

Vacationland I.

First I made the "pretty" work, The Seventh Day and My Sycamore, then I graduated and life became "real". I was terrified of growing up, fearful of leaving and scared of staying put. It was with this heavy heart that I drove to Maine. There I discovered a newfound honesty within myself, a different aesthetic centered around …

That Same Sun.

THE HIVE

I woke up at five in the morning, a hundred dollars to my name, and headed northeast, driving into the sunrise, watching it emerge over rural Ohio’s great expanse of corn. Sixteen hours later, forty dollars poorer, I watched that same sun set behind Vermont’s green rolling hills (mountains by my midwestern standards). In one day, I drove nearly seven-hundred miles, alone. At first I was terrified, but by Pennsylvania I had begun to get the hang of it, enjoying the loneliness. I screamed country music at the top of my lungs, stopped every time I had to pee, drank gallons of horrible gas station coffee and held entire conversation out loud by myself. Around mile three-hundred I was invincible, a self-proclaimed badass, able to go wherever the wind might take me.

Four years ago, when I moved into my freshman dorm room, I met a ray of sunshine. My roommate would quickly…

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Romanticized by Nostalgia.

  Maine made me brave (throwing me behind the wheel, alone, to drive twenty hours across the country). Maine made me embrace my failures (leading me to an entirely new aesthetic). Maine changed me (giving me a new way of making that I am desperately trying to keep). I came to realize while there that the only …

Actually Seeing.

I am preparing myself to get in my car and drive fourteen hours along the entirety of Lake Erie, across the whole state of New York, to the edge of Massachusetts, north along the Atlantic Ocean and half way up the coast of Maine to an artists' residency in Rockport: alone. I am terrified, but I …