| This
page is a continuing essay, or thoughts if you will, about how I see
my art. It is a process of me explaining to you and to myself of what
my art is and has been. It will be updated periodically. |
The
first thing I'll do is start writing my thoughts on how I have done
my work up until this point. I started working in photography some forty
odd years ago. What first comes to mind is actually a very early black
and white photograph, that was taken, developed and printed when I was
around 16. I remember it was a view of an old shed on the farm, the
summer kitchen. It was a close-up of a window with no glass in it. The
frame of the window had little or no paint on it and the white of the
walls had been washed out long ago. Through the window was a double
sink resting on the bottom sill, tipping downwards out toward the ground.
The sink itself was old, but modern in the sense that it wasn't thick
enamel but steel, so the bottom being black and the top being white
cast a certain shadow onto the window. The faucets were still on it
and were turned every which direction. In the sink that was outside
the window, was a potted plant that drooped down over the edge going
down and out of the picture frame. At the top of the window and the
top of the picture frame was a piece of ivy coming from inside the shed;
like a snake it wound its way downward towards the sink. This was not,
of course, my first picture ever, but one that I do remember. As I look
back on it now, I guess why I remember it is because of the randomness
of it. The idea of a window with no glass, the idea of a sink in the
window, the idea of a pot in a sink. Those random placements of these
things - my father throwing the sink on the windowsill because it was
in the way, my mother putting a pot in the sink because it looked like
a good place for a plant, I don't know. I took a picture of it because
it was interesting, although at the time I only guessed it was interesting.
It was only after I saw the picture did I know it was, and then it is
only now that I write about it. I write about it because I remember
it, not the image per se but the randomness of the image.
Observations on a Early Photograph |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |