The Second Wave.



June 2020.

It feels good to be outside.

We’re adapting. We stay six feet apart. No hugs. No high fives. No carpooling. But we can be outside and identify flowers for each other. We can count the rings on trees and let it serve as a reminder of how small this moment is when considered in larger context. We are grateful. 











I adopted a barn cat to chase the woodchucks away from the garden. She’s not very friendly but she (mostly) tolerates my presence.






I’m working again, although it feels strange to be around other people. It’s strange to photograph people wearing masks. I constantly wonder whether the work I’m doing is essential.

It feels essential for my mental health and general well-being. It feels essential to be around other humans and feel some connection to community. It’s truly a gift that my work is to be immersed in beauty. 









I’m just photographing flowers but this farm provides the livelihood for several people in my community. Keeping them employed is essential. And the flowers they grow will bring joy into the homes of so many. We all need to remember the magic and beauty of this world, even as our relationship to it is radically shifting. 








I’m moving into a new studio space—it feels good to be in the midst of working artists. It feels good to have a space where I can be that is not home. It feels good to have a room that is entirely my own. 



The seedlings are doing well. Every day I carry them from shelves inside to a sunny spot in the yard. I walk each tray through the house, down the stairs, and across the driveway where they can soak up maximum sunshine with minimal wind damage. It takes an hour each day to shuffle dozens of trays back and forth. I’m sure there’s a more efficient way to do this but I don’t care. This slow pace suits me,  it gives me time to think. 





July 2020






It’s mid-July. It’s time to swim.

All the usual swimming holes are swamped with folks who have cancelled summer vacation. There have been several hot, cranky days when all I want is to jump into a river and cool off, only to arrive at the swimming hole filled with unmasked sunbathers.

I head north to seek out new swimming holes—getting off the beaten path. 






High summer: The yurt is coming along. I discovered HipCamp and skipped town for a couple days. I visited friends with little ones.







August 2020

It’s hot—that sticky, sweaty, can’t-sleep-all-night kind of hot. One of my housemates has taken up residence on the sofa because she says it’s too hot to sleep in her bedroom on the second floor. We all sleep on the second floor. 



The garden is abundant. I haven’t needed to buy produce since April, which is great—I go weeks without needing to visit the grocery store.

I’m freezing, fermenting, pickling, dehydrating, and canning. Putting up as much summer bounty as possible, who knows how long the pandemic will go on. I’m always grateful to crack open a jar of summer flavors in the middle of February, I have a feeling these jars of jam will taste extra-sweet this winter. 















September 2020

Practice: documenting dahlias from the garden & testing lights with M. Sward pots. 





September 2020

It’s time to raise the yurt. 


















Candace Hope is a documentary photographer and creative producer living on the border of Southern VT & Western Massachusetts, on unceded territory of the Abenaki people (link to Native Land Map where you can learn whose land you are on). 

She studied photography at Phoenix College and The International Center for Photography. Her work has been published by The Huffington Post, Fast Company, Take Magazine, The Valley Advocate, and Imbibe Magazine, and has been exhibited at the Sharon Arts Center, the Vermont Center for Photography, and the Northampton Center for the Arts. She is a recipient of the Western Mass Creative awards for her work with SHOFCO, a humanitarian non-profit based in Nairobi, Kenya. A recent personal project, Ending the Silence: #metoo, was awarded a visual arts grant from the Northampton Arts Council and was exhibited at the Northampton Center for the Arts in October 2019.

In addition to her work as a photographer, Candace has extensive experience leading teams of designers, developers, illustrators, animators, copywriters and brand strategists to achieve award-winning outcomes on complex creative projects. She has managed teams working on websites, ad campaigns, capital campaigns, product packaging, brand identity, animation, and more.

Candace teaches digital media for the Vermont Governor’s Institute of the Arts each summer, and serves on the steering committee for Art Tech Nature Culture. She also serves on the Public Safety Advisory Committee in the town where she lives, and periodically volunteers on the development committee for the Vermont Center for Photography.

Drop a line if you’d like to collaborate on a project.


Awards      
2019 Northampton Arts Council, Visual Arts Grant for Ending the Silence
2019 Western MA Creative Awards, Best of Show (Concept Development)
2019 Western MA Creative Awards, Gold x3 (Producer)
2019 Western MA Creative Awards, Judge’s Choice x3 (Producer)
2015 Western MA Creative Awards,  Best of Show, SHOFCO (Photographer)
2015 Western MA Creative Awards, Gold Award, SHOFCO (Photographer)

Exhibitions      
2019 @33 Hawley, Portraits of Pathlight, Group Show
2019 Northampton Center for the Arts, Ending the Silence: #metoo, Solo Show
2016 Vermont Center for Photography, Group Show, Juried Exhibition
2016 Sharon Arts Center, Group Show, Contemporary Works In, On, and Around Music

Publications      
2016 Take Magazine
2016 Monadnock Ledger-Transcript
2015 The Valley Advocate
2015 Fast Company
2014 The Huffington Post


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