image editor Enza Marcy says farewell

Illustration by means of Marissa Stratton

Enza Marcy, picture Editor 

There's this poem that i really like, that I've had taped to my bed room wall for years and that I maintain coming lower back to. It's titled "Poetry" by using Marianne Moore, and it's a poem about poetry. 

It begins, "I too, dislike it: there are issues that are crucial beyond all this fiddle / studying it, although, with an ideal contempt for it, one discovers that there's in / it in spite of everything, a spot for the genuine."

before I started my time on the CT, I photographed my pals, my roommates, my bus rides on the Greyhound and strangers who showed me some of the purest glimpses of empathy I even have ever frequent. before that, I photographed my mother caring for her mom, my grandmother, as she wrestled with dropping her sense of self and the area around her to dementia. before that, maybe some dangerous photographs of rocks and leaves and photos that spent far too long in Photoshop. 

For the previous two years at the CT, I actually have been photographing our group in Richmond. pleasing, particular individuals. desirable, special Richmond. and that i am grateful for each moment, every person, each picture. 

As my time with The CT involves an end, as seasons move and the outdoor world continues apace and the gentle continues to bounce over timber or someone's cheek whether my digital camera is in my arms or left at home — i'm reminded that this is all so fleeting. And, even nonetheless, i am reminded that images is capable of a certain variety of magic. 

memory is fragile. but the photographs are nonetheless there.

There are days when the camera is slung round my neck and i'm speeding out the door on assignment. There are days when the digital camera stays tucked away in my backpack abyss. whether the digicam comes out or doesn't, no matter if the graphic is made with a shutter click or frozen in time as a reminiscence, i'm grateful for every adult I actually have met alongside my CT experience. 

To our proficient crew of editors, writers, illustrators, designers and photographers I've had the pleasure of discovering from. To the students, educators, poets, artists, gardeners, enterprise house owners, moms and daughters and brothers and sisters I've had the honour of photographing. To the fascinating Richmond group I've been fortunate enough to grow with. 

thanks for welcoming me into your lives, for sharing the second an image is made, and for discovering that there's in it after all, a spot for the genuine — collectively.