The following blog posts will be write ups from the physical journals that i have been/will be keeping. Therefore the dates are slightly in the past.
Joey & Grace
So i'm finally doing it. I can't quite believe it.
For the past twenty-six years (i'm twenty six - okay, well for as long as i can remember) i have dreamed about going to the United States of America. You see, i'm a dual-national - half British and half American. The only thing is that i have never been to the USA.
I grew up as an english kid in an english town, attended an english school, doing english things with english friends. Despite this, i always identified myself as being American. My Mum was American as she was born in Boston to an American father, Joseph Leo O'Donnell. My dual-nationality therefore came from her, so i received citizenship when i was born. We never visited America during my childhood. I think because of this, i became obsessed with the states - wrapping myself up in the fantasy of it and consuming anything American that came my way. I told every kid i met that i was American - often even lying and telling people that i was born in Boston. This could be down to insecurities, but i reckon it's just because i wanted to believe it myself.
A big part of this story is my Grandfather - Joe. I never met him, unfortunately he died when i was three years old and he was still in America. As i grew up, my Mum told me details of his life and a few stories. I would spend some of my evenings dreaming about what his life was like - i held this heroic notion of him. I had believed that in his early years he had formed a jazz band with a few friends. They toured around the north of the west coast, playing small venues in Boston and New York, before being scouted. A record label signed them before sending them off across the nation. His band (i need to see if i can find out their name) became successful, selling out shows across the states. Following the tour, the band returned to Boston. This was when Joe and my Grandmother, Grace, met.
Grace had just arrived from Ireland. She had ventured over the pacific ocean in search of new people, places and adventures. She fell in love with Joe, the exciting jazz singer, instantly. He fell in love with Grace equally fast, deciding to quit the band to settle down with her when she fell pregnant. By the way, i realise that this is a very long story short, but you'll see why in a few minutes, i promise. They didn't stay settled for long though as Joe became frustrated with marital life.
Joe turned to alcohol. This didn't help ease his frustrations though, and he eventually left his family for a life on the road once again. He formed another band and set off west - spending a lot of time in San Francisco. My Gran moved my Mum and herself back to Ireland. Joe's second attempt at music was unsuccessful. The band collapsed, so he moved out to Las Vegas. This would be where he lived out the rest of his life - committing himself to liquor.
Now, the thing about this tale is that most of it is not true. Most of what i've said so far has been a complete fabrication, a delusion that i believed up until about four years ago.
At the beginning of my studies of photography, i recognised that i could realise my obsession of America within a photographic project. I decided that i would sit down with my Gran to find out the specifics of her's and Joe's story. You can imagine how shocked i was to find out that although hints of the truth are contained within my version of the story, most of it had never happened. We talked through how he had grown up, what he had done in his twenties, what brought them together.... And then i left the project for a while. I wasn't sure what to do with it, with this new information. Joseph O'Donnell hadn't been this American archetype that i had always imagined, but instead just a normal guy. He had been in a band when he was younger, but was an engineer in his later life. He left my Gran for a woman called Jane and moved to Seattle. He died in 1991, possibly due to alcohol abuse, but his death is currently a mystery that we need to solve by applying for his death certificate.
I began to think about this story a little more objectively and realised that it's a far more interesting tale than my original story. It was now a story about the conflicting ideas of the American dream, about the the seeping of American culture into Britain through the media and also of the complexities of a family. I had romanticised my Grandad to the point that i created a story that could be scripted for Hollywood. I realised that my view on Joe was a metaphor for my view on America as a whole.
I started to think about how our memories are constantly warped - that we only recall something in a similar way to the last time we remembered it. Memory is an incredibly loose thing that can be shifted radically by perspective or information. I want to discover the truth behind Joe's life, to trace the facts that sparked my imagination and fill the blanks of everything i don't know. In this process, i think i will uncover what America really is to me.
A few weeks ago, i thought 'screw it' and booked the flight to America. I knew that this was something i had been trying to get around to for a couple of years now and the excuse of it being my MA project was too valuable. This has given me a deadline to work to. My plan is to research as much about Joe as i can before i leave. I will be interviewing my Mum & Gran over the next few weeks about their memories, experiences and emotions regarding Joe & America. I'll be trying to locate any specific locations that are significant to both stories. However, i will not only be fact finding - but i will also be completely indulging myself in the cliches and imaginations that i have held onto for so long.
I will be flying to Boston where i will be spending a week, hoping to couch surf in order to meet people who live here who can show me around. This is the city where both stories originate and also my Mother's place of birth. I'll be looking for the places my Grandad used to hang around as well as places that my imagination would have placed him.
We then pick up a car and leave for a road trip across the country - hitting up New York, Chicago, Cheyenne, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Reno, Portland and ending in Seattle. This is a mixture of true and imagined locations significant to the story. Seattle is where Joe passed away, so it will be quite a sobering end to the trip.