As I sit here listening to one of my favorite bands Tricky and write this long overdue blog, I come to you with a heart full of appreciation for the privilege of being able to work at something of which I never consider work, the beauty of photography. Today, I found myself meandering through a second hand store (a small obsession of mine) looking for interesting objects/furniture and I came across a table of about 150 old photographs spread out for the taking, most of which had handwritten messages and were dated on average of 1914-1916. I was immediately entranced and started sifting through each photograph with intense curiosity. A woman perhaps who just finished hanging her laundry to dry and decided to put her baby to sleep in a wicker carriage as the summer breeze blows, a photo of a young couple lounging in the grass with a woman embracing a doll she is too old to play with, a man dressed in a kimono complete with fan and umbrella as a long skinny lit cigar gently smokes on the edge of his lips. Questions arose in my mind, "why was this moment captured? What is the story within this moment that has passed so long ago?" I stopped to ponder and what I realized is that my whole entire existence on this earth has always pulled me like a magnet to images such as these, causing me to ask question after question to those around me who may have known more. I realized that my images today are but a small reflection of my minds eye, things I've subconsciously recorded in my life movie that never stops playing in my head. So today, I share with you these images. Even though I know not any of these individuals, and even though I may never meet them, they will be framed on my studio wall as a constant reminder of what started my passion for freezing moments in time.
