For my memory of a place I picked my room from an apartment I lived in for about 6 months when I was around 11 years old. I choose this place because it sits very weirdly with me. After all, it was my room, my own private space, but on the other hand it felt so transitional and short. I don't recall any photos being taken in the room. If I had, I'd probably take it from a very high angle, as much of my memory comes from looking down from the top bunk. There was also a very comfortable chair I was fond of that would be a nice place to shoot from. The photo would be pretty monochromatic, as it was a white room with all white furniture (pretty gaudy, if I do recall). I'm sure that someone new lives there now, maybe another child, maybe a roommate, but I'd imagine myself feeling extremely out of place. I see myself in the door, as I wouldn't want to go much further. It's a weird feeling have a room once so familiar completely change it's use/decor/owner/everything.
For a written photograph, the vantage point would be from the hallway looking into the room, with the door between a quarter and a half closed. Nobody would be in the room, although I can't tell if the new tenant's presence would make me feel more comfortable or more tense. The furniture would have much more color, rather than white on white. I'd imagine feeling like a thief, displaying the room as the wonderful property of whoever owned it. I never lived there, I just stole it for a time.
There is a wonderful photograph from Vero Beach in Florida, I must have only been 5 or 6. My brother and I had been doing what kids do: run toward the surf then immediately scream and run backwards when the waves crashed. It was innocent and fun, just a purely good memory. My mom wasn't much of a photographer, and it was back in the day when disposable cameras ruled the Earth. I'm not sure if she was just fumbling with the camera, trying to be artistic, or what, but the photo was captured at a hard angle, with my brother clipped off in the corner, the wave made up most of the composition. What was probably a throwaway shot became pretty sentimental to me, the picture itself might even be more fun than that day itself (my actual memory is actually pretty fuzzy). I suppose I've changed a lot since that day, fifteen years can strip a kid from his innocence, the pure, unadulterated fun seems harder to come by. I think that photo would be much harder to recreate today. Sure, I could tilt the camera and crop the person off, but that laughter is something you just can't fake. A new contemporary version of that photo would either be a lot more forced or a lot sadder.
Humans impact their environment in many ways, but I'd suppose I'm more interested in the changes they make that we don't see: sewer systems, electrical grids, ventilation ducts and the like. Architects have become so good at hiding these systems, we barely even notice them although we use them everyday. So I'd suppose my art idea would be a little pricey, but it's hypothetical, and in the hypothetical world, I've got big bucks. I'd like to take an entire city and design a schematic for each internal system we have (blue dotted lines for water, jagged line for electric, etc.). We would then paint it on everything! Inside and out, people couldn't escape it. I think it would become especially beautiful (and possibly obnoxious) when these patterns overlap together in busy places. It would be ordered, yet chaotic at the same time. I really didn't think about photography while writing that, but here we go, solution: a 3d panoramic standing from one point, with zoom in capability and everything). It's a little bit more complex than photography itself, but photos are definitely involved. Here's an example: http://360vr.com/2010/01/2010-times-square-midnight-krpflv/index.html
I could live without the sound though.
The familiar vs. faraway prompt is a tricky one, because photography is so literal. In the end, I think familiarity is in the eye of the beholder. For example, I could play with the vantage point, focus, etc. all I want, but someone who lives in Beijing would be much more familiar to my photos there and to one I shot in East Lansing. Vice versa for me. I guess my answer to this prompt is that I honestly don't know how'd I manipulate familiarity in a photograph without straight abstraction, the concept seems out of my hand. As far as a photo of someplace untouched by humans, I'd try to get as much detail as possible. The more detail, the more people will recognize that they do not know that place. Say I zoomed in on a leaf, I think people are subconsciously cunning enough creatures that that could trick themselves into believing they might have been there.
When I was a kid, I sat in a courtroom for several hours with the Boy Scouts to earn my political justice merit badge (or something like that). In recent years, I've been to court to argue tickets and such against the court. The feelings invoked between those two vantage points in the court are insanely different. As a kid, I judged everyone I saw there. As an adult, I was tired of anybody looking at me. I almost wanted to slap my little kid self. I think an interesting collage/composite would be to stage a courtroom internally. The defendant, the judge, the jury, the witnesses, and anybody else is the same person. I'd see it as a representation of an internal conflict, such as weight pros/cons or general guilt. I'd want to blow out the highlights in the photograph, making it feel much more abstract, like it's really in the subconscious.