April showers, May showers, June flowers?

Weekly Contact - May Recap 05/01/2025 - 05/31/2025

May moved a little slower. The kind of pace that makes you squint at the light and question if anything’s actually shifting. But the more I sit with it, the more I realize some growth happens in places we don’t measure. Below is a look back at this month’s entries thoughts on place, process, and the quiet reasons we keep making.

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The Pull of the Motherland

I wrote this one while reflecting on what it means to feel rooted in a place you’ve never physically known. There’s something potent in cultural memory the way it travels through food, language, stories, and sometimes silence. The motherland isn’t always a destination. Sometimes it’s a question that keeps showing up in the work.

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Under the Red Light

This one came from a pause quite literally, under a red light well amber orangish. I thought about how many defining moments take shape while we’re waiting. The in-between time. The quiet before the action. There’s a strange kind of clarity when you’re forced to stop and just be where you are.

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What’s the Point of Making?

I hit a wall this week the kind of internal dialogue where you start asking what any of this is for. But the more I sat with it, the more I realized the point isn’t always visible in the moment. Sometimes the process is the point. Even when you’re unsure, even when nothing’s finished. Especially then.

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I’ve been thinking about how slowness gets mistaken for lack of progress. Self-developing and scanning will do that to you. There's a kind of discipline in the waiting the delayed gratification is good for the mind, and maybe it keeps your inner child alive too.
Maybe May was a reminder that incubation is a form of movement.

The light’s been doing strange things lately. Mornings feel cinematic. Evenings feel like they’re hiding something. I’ve noticed that when I follow the glitter of the sun, it tends to lead me to the photos I was meant to create. Not to sound childish, but it really does pay to let your intuition lead to let the environment carve out the frame for you.

There’s something quietly magical about saving things you didn’t even know you’d need later. Sounds. Textures. Phrases.
I’ve started collecting more silence lately. It feels like a different kind of archive.

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What slowed you down this month and what did it reveal?
Feel free to reply with your thoughts, or share what’s been showing up in your own creative process lately.

Peace,

MacAndré