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This I will do —
— make something every day, something for an audience of one;— give away the things I make, leave them behind, stash them on shelves in stores, send them to strangers, and otherwise cast them into the universe for others to find;— look around with the eyes and curiosity of a child;— talk to strangers to learn how they see the world;— laugh at the things I find important;— be me, because if I don’t nobody…
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In Praise of Blurry Photographs
Slunk Emo ceremoniously attached the lens. The live stream on Stumbler broadcast through the universe video of what he was doing. He straightened and nodded to Slunk Ome, then moved to a position beside the switch that would complete the circuit when he threw it. The switch that would link, all at once, all the sprawling algorithms and computing devices—from servers to personal computers, phones, smart watches, and internet-enabled appliances, more than ninety-six billion machines–into…
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30 minutes in 30th Street
I had an appointment in the city the other day. Given the train schedule, I would either arrive about 45 minutes early or 5 minutes late. I opted to arrive early so that I could spend half an hour or so taking pictures in the beautiful train station. The station was bustling with people — commuters, students heading home for the summer, tourists arriving in the city. In the 30 minutes I spent in the…
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A Sense of Space
In A Sense of Place, A Sense of Time John Brinckerhoff Jackson reflects on the meaning of our increasingly urbanized and industrialized landscapes and how we interact with and live in those spaces. He is neither the first nor the most recent to draw attention to various aspects of the built environment, with a particular focus on vernacular structures, e.g., garages, mobile homes, parking lots. His book does seem to me to be more optimistic…
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Postcard Archive: March 2023
On warmer days high school kids hang out on the top level of the parking structure. Not exactly an attractive space, but I guess they make the most of what they have. But this chilly, late winter evening they were probably in the Starbuck’s at the corner — no more attractive a space, but they have to make the most of what they have. Behind me a man was smoking a cigarette while looking out…
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Audience of One
I went to see a show last night, an album celebration show. The music was great, but what really impressed me was the musicians. Sure, there were a number of people there to see the show, but our presence was irrelevant. Watching the band play and especially E.J., the front man, I saw a person who creates because he has to create. He would be writing and performing songs whether or not anybody listened. If…
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Winter’s Passing
Winter never arrived this year. Except for a week in December, the winter months were balmy and snowless. Spring came early. The cherry trees had finished blooming weeks earlier than usual. While most people rejoice in spring’s colorful return, I don’t often join the festivities. I miss winter. I enjoy the beauty in the stark landscapes, both large and small. The season and the bare trees and snow laden bushes lend themselves, I think, to…
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One Thought Per Day
The vagueness of a daily photography project or the magnitude of a “365 project” has always put me off. A more finite, one still life each day for a month, worked better. Even that project, however, lost some of its appeal by the end: However, I have largely disliked this project. I find it dull. I have fallen into the habit of thinking that making the single photograph (which I do each evening) is sufficient.…
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They Call Us Lonely
Are we more or less alone now that we hold “the world” in our hands? Do we seek out empty places so that the real world doesn’t interfere with our experiencing the virtual world? Maybe in the 1980s Aztec Camera could remark, “They call us lonely when we’re really just alone,” but today I worry that we are both alone and lonely.
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The Tyranny of Tools
Despite considerable handwringing, a species of photographer seems insistent on drawing attention to the equipment used to make photographs. I am amused by how many electrons and how much ink is spent saying some version of “gear doesn’t matter” by people who are themselves focused on cameras and lenses. Whether it is a “film photographer” (a term I don’t like but seems to be important to a certain group of people) is explaining yet again…