These are no ordinary photos.
Vedra’s father, Caesar Chandler, taught photography to eighth graders in the 80s and 90s, a time when photos were shot on film and viewed through slide projectors and light boxes.
The first photo: there’s defiance here, and joy – that seventies blend of protest and celebration. Fists up, behind them, miles of green. The composition is almost accidental in its perfection, the way only family photographs can be.
In the second photo, three friends walk along a path through dense sumer growth. Mid stride, caught between one moment and the next, the path worn smooth by other feet, other summers. One woman, clutching a paper adorned with a face–perhaps her own–invites us to think about the stories that bind us together. The trees press close, eager to eavesdrop on the stories being exchanged.
Then: a child wearing a checkered romper holding a watermelon the size of their entire self–grinning at the camera after digging their face into the watermelon, with unfiltered joy.
These slides sat in boxes for years, for technology to catch up with memory. Now, brought to light in the digital world, as a Christmas gift by Vedra, they offer what all great photographs offer: proof that we were there, a celebration of our paths, and a testament to the laughter and love shared over fruit and friendships.