whitney browne photography

whitney browne photography


I feel a bizarre, precarious delight, in being alive, now, in this body.

Rigor is in my blood. I am constantly slowing and softening, shedding and opening myself to be moved by the beauty of everyday, mystical experiences.

A good love song makes me cry.

I enjoy using my imagination to recreate old stories and fantasize about new possibilities. To kickstart magical thinking, I like to put a music track on repeat or pay close attention to my surroundings or just close my eyes. When daydreaming, I’ll either act out something that’s running through my mind, dance if I feel like it, or utter dissonant melodies and squeal fragmented memories. Sometimes I like to have my iPhone or digital camera nearby to capture these movements, otherwise, nervous system memory kicks in and my body stores several versions of what happened. While ruminating, I’ll write left handed poems (I’m a righty) or doodle in my journal. Often times, I’ll do an intuitively calculated combination of all of these things. Sometimes I need to be with myself and sometimes I need to be with friends, others. When it’s time for a break, I like to take a nap, go for a swim, watch a show, read, go out dancing, ride a bicycle, be massaged, have safe consensual sex, or share a delicious meal.

I love working in settings where I can play with light, edit image and sound recordings, unlock muscle memory, craft and share stories. I am exacting truth and seeking clarity when I choose to engage with the complicated and contradictory worlds swirling within, through, and around me.

I love brainstorming story titles, maybe in part because my Dad is a journalist?

The wonder and ease and terror of being birthed by my Mother on May 10th, 1987 at 11:42pm in Port-of-Spain, Trinidad, is imprinted within my psyche. I’m the firstborn of my parents’ children. 

I am understanding how to recognize family, and I’m beginning to help gather, care for, and cherish my people.

In preparation for the death of this body, I often imagine responding to the name Fana Ife Hilarie Fraser, after I’m gone. Why might my family still call out for me? How would I respond?

The desire to make meaningful connections is what currently drives me to live life and make art.

I am always pondering how to begin and where to begin and when to begin again.

July 4, 2019.