A few years
ago while still living in the Ballard neighborhood of the city of Seattle,
Washington, we would take five-mile walks in the morning three or four times a
week. Our walking path was a big oval, northward through a residential
neighborhood called Loyal Heights, westward down several flights of stairs and
walkways to a public beachfront park at Shilshole along Elliot Bay, then
southward along the urban Burke-Gilman trail, across a railroad spur track and
over a railroad bridge back to our residence. While walking the first segment
through Loyal Heights, I passed a house where one of the residents staged small
action figures in changing scenes along the top of a retaining wall.
I became
fascinated in the miniature dramas I saw and decided to order some miniature
people of my own, which I called "peeps." These small figures were
HO- and O-gauge scales intended for model railroad layouts. I would add several
of my peeps to the settings on the retaining wall. Sometimes they would stay in
the same place for days, but sometimes I would walk by to find my peeps in
different positions, and other times my peeps simply disappeared.
I began to
set one or more peeps in different locations along the urban trail portion of
my walking route, where I found low retaining walls along the trail. Later I
documented the location of my peeps with photos. Quickly I discovered that my
peeps would have longer lifespan if I placed them in less obvious locations
along the busy trail, otherwise they would be gone after a day or two.
After moving
to Olympia, I wondered whether any of my peeps had survived in the urban
jungle. One year later, on a trip to Seattle, I decided to make a diversion and
drive to the trail to see if any of the peeps were still in place. Of the four
locations I checked, I found one peep still sitting on his tiny bench at the
spot where I had originally placed him. I decided to bring him back to Olympia
with me.
So now the
peeps are the subject of a series of artistamps. I selected the best photos and
highlighted the settings of the peeps by using a graphic technique called a vignette to crop their photos.
I am considering
some new future projects that will feature peeps. Photographing peeps in urban settings
is not a new idea - for example, see the various books published by the street artist
Slinkatchu. The peeps exert an emotional force on me that is not surprising. "The feeling of being ignored and
overlooked, of feeling small, is a universal one," says Slinkachu.
"It is as easy for us to fall through cracks in the pavement in a big city
as it is for the little people." Stay tuned for more peep adventures that become
reports to the Eternal Network.