just wait, and you'll see

  

  They always told me when I was young, "Just wait, and you'll see." Now I'm old
  and see nothing. It's wonderful.

  Erik Satie

not nearly old enough for christmas

facets of a shamanic dream in response to william bishop

outside susan's inside world

night blooming

one sparkling eye at dali's luau

looking for a place to land

   

 

who needs color when life is so black and white?

redux: mister rabbit's happy ending bedtime story

auto jammies

m. wax

the shortest distance between two points isn't necessarily aline

l'oeil de jell-o

slowly revealing herself

two trees deciduously touching madly

double vision chicken wire stained glass

showering then crying out loud

...how does it feel?

“Photographers tend not to photograph what they can’t see, which is the very reason one should try to attempt it. Otherwise we’re going to go on forever just photographing more faces and more rooms and more places. Photography has to transcend description. It has to go beyond description to bring insight into the subject, or reveal the subject, not as it looks, but how does it feel?” 

― Duane Michals

From Blake Andrews Blogspot

The phrase "photographer's photographer" gets thrown around a lot. In the case of Ken Josephson I think it's quite applicable. His photos aren't so much about documenting the world or some conceptual premise. They're about messing with the form itself, playing with ideas in front of the camera just to see what happens. What's real? What's represented? Where is the line? Yeah, I know it's Photo 101 stuff. But Josephson ain't a beginner. In the current show at Hartman, his mastery is indisputable. I think most photographers will find his images just plain entertaining.

I think what I find most intriguing is that he turns the emotional requirement of photography on its head. There's a common preconception that the way to make lasting photos is through the heart. You've got to feel something. And express that. And hopefully the viewer feels it too. Again and again, that mantra is drilled into photographers. Find your passion and create photos with emotional resonance. 

Well fuck that! At least some of the time. I've never made photos like that and I don't usually react to them that way. My own photos are 95% mental, and maybe 5% heart. That's just how I'm wired. And judging by his photographs, so is Josephson. His images are more intellectual exercises than tear-jerkers. As I said, he's a photographer's photographer. It's about the image, not necessarily what's in it.

http://blakeandrews.blogspot.com

bench finding relief by grass or how i told you so

masked man flight 1041

finding sleep in a nocturnal opening

no bunnies today

unusually blue and otherwise

some of its parts

table for three

band aid

black and white face

two faces of v.

sky seeks path of least resistance

the gravity of levity's predicament

deja vu: the contemplation of words and precious metal

net work x 2

“David had been photographing endangered species in the Hawaiian rainforest and elsewhere for years, and his collections of photographs and Suzie's tarot cards seemed somehow related. Because species disappear when their habitat does, he photographed them against the nowhere of a black backdrop (which sometimes meant propping up a black velvet cloth in the most unlikely places and discouraging climates), and so each creature, each plant, stood as though for a formal portrait alone against the darkness. The photographs looked like cards too, card from the deck of the world in which each creature describes a history, a way of being in the world, a set of possibilities, a deck from which cards are being thrown away, one after another. Plants and animals are a language, even in our reduced, domesticated English, where children grow like weeds or come out smelling like roses, the market is made up of bulls and bears, politics of hawks and doves. Like cards, flora and fauna could be read again and again, not only alone but in combination, in the endlessly shifting combinations of a nature that tells its own stories and colors ours, a nature we are losing without even knowing the extent of that loss.” 

― Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost

one that got away

early morning 2/14

"He stopped beside a marsh with the car windows rolled down and listened to the trilling cacophony of hundreds of red-winged blackbirds, and on the other side of the road the more dulcet calls of meadowlarks. He recalled with immoderate reverence his burgeoning love at age ten for looking at paintings and listening to classical music, the lack of mind in his pleasure. How wonderful it was to love something without the compromise of language.” From “The Land of Unlikeness” by Jim Harrison

seeking light

luca brasi sleeps with the fishes v.3

divided

nefertiti's brother

oneeyeblind

round ball