Sometime in November my Mac collapsed under the weight of over 10,000 photographs, all taken within the last twelve months. Pictures of old friends posed as apostles, pictures of monks, priests, a gravel quarry in fog, an abandoned psychiatric hospital, the back kitchen of a Chinese restaurant, a bee keeper, a harpist, a zen drummer, a barber and his son, 350 Read posters, macro shots of fingers, flowers, food, shots from the plane window, the cloisters, the met, my wife, the kids, trees, the hudson - all of my world, essentially.
All of my world, but clearer than before, lingered over, considered as abstraction and as reality. My world and the light that touches it: morning light, dusk, flash light, bug lights, lights covered by blue tupperware containers, window light. And then all of my world re-examined on the screen. 418 people in the Read posters, each face looked over closely, the old ones smoothed a bit, the young ones cleaned of dirt and mucus.
Things never before considered suddenly becoming obsessions: fashion photography, Avedon, Beaton, Penn, Nick Knight. Food photography. Looking, looking, looking.