Photography
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Is it just me?
Does not all photography seem derivative? I read recently (in the New Yorker, March 8, 2010) of Espranza Spaulding, a jazz singer, bass player. The article, long and New Yorker-typical deep, was compelling, as all things fresh and original are wont to be, and I listened, as a result, to the podcast with the author. I Continue reading
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Not for the coffee table.
A few weeks ago I ordered some photography books. Not for the coffee table. For the eye. They are: Robert Doisneau, a Taschen “Icon” series book. Bernard Plossu, So Long and two monographs: Edouard Boubat & Lee Friedlander Not a photography book, per se, but I also purchased Clive Scott’s Street Photography, From Atget to Continue reading
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The Polar Express
When did we lose that? Continue reading
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What is to be done?
I came to Maine with great expectations. There was the writing that has never been granted the proper time; and the reading, short stints deserving more. The thinking. The meditation. And everything else. I have been here two months. Most of that, the great expectation agenda, has fallen by the wayside. And I wrestle with Continue reading
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Why do we take pictures?
Photographs are not so much possessions as they are spirits, even memory incarnate. Continue reading
...the house I live in... 