I found a pile of old Time-Life photography books while cleaning up this weekend—a series from the very early 70s. I’d bought it at a garage sale a couple of years ago but it ended up in the back room, largely forgotten. As part of the newly-trendy Kondomari “joy” thing, they’re now sitting on a shelf in the studio, next to my desk.
I was browsing one of the books on Sunday—The Art of Photography—when the sun came out. Abstract miniatures suddenly appeared around me, assembled from light and random objects and shadows.
I ran for the X-Pro2 and imagined 1971...grainy, blurry and shameless.