When the vast majority of people look at photos that have taken, they are remembering and reminiscing about the faces, places and spaces those photos represent.
They rarely, if ever, judge these photos artistically or journalistically.
They are simple reflections and representations of life’s events and experiences.
For many of my very own personal and family photos, I feel exactly the same.
I’m recalling, with pleasure, nostalgically, those past moments that have become present memories.
But for many photographers like myself, especially those that take a more autobiographical approach to photography, these photos, even the casual ones, are often deep emotional markers, in life, of where I was, who I was with, and what I was thinking about at the time.
This is probably a curse but it’s near impossible to look at my own photos without the eye of a museum curator and critic.
I’m not so great with names. But I rarely forget a place or space.
And even more to the point, I remember, in vivid detail, the backstory to most of the pictures I captured.
Again, these photos are emotional markers of the steps I have taken along the way.
My heart and head are privately full of light, color, and design.
Thank you Mom for bringing me into the world, kicking and screaming.
I’m still kicking and screaming!
Click.
Jack
