Notes, Thoughts, and Observations
The camera or cameraphone is the one essential aid to the tourist’s resolute wish to see nothing.
The secret to becoming a photographer: See clearly and stand in the right place.
Against the flux of late capitalism, standing still to freeze the flow in a photograph is hardly passive. If such a stance appears static it actually invokes the Ancient Greek sense of stasis. That is, defiantly standing one's ground or taking a stand.
Dianne Regisford reminds me that a fountain pen it has to be if one is going with the flow of unfolding inspiration. That is why I even like to hold the camera in my hand like a fountain pen rather than hang it around my neck like a noose.
The term 'handheld' implicates the camera as an extension of the body.
My camera is my ship.
The portability of the camera allows me to unite art and life. I don’t decide to go out and take pictures. I am just ready.
Regardless of the strength of our religious beliefs, Easter seems to me a particularly moving feast celebrating how life regenerates itself out of the darkness of winter into the light of spring. Brought up in the Greek Orthodox tradition by mildly religious parents who only occasionally went to church, I was always taken to the evening service on Easter Saturday when, just before midnight, all lights would be extinguished and the church would be plunged into darkness. At the stroke of midnight candles would be lit and light would return to the church and to the surrounding streets, carried by the worshippers. The magical play of darkness and light made it inevitable that I would become a photographer.
Space and time are made dense by photographs.
The essential question that photography asks of life is: Where is the humanity in all of this?