Photographers. We’re strange, right? We can’t stop. We run when others
walk. We work when others relax. We have no sense of weekends, holidays, time
off, time on, or time in general, except as it relates to sunrise or set... We
shake our heads, punch buttons on expensive cameras, eyeball perfect strangers,
ask odd questions, and wait for light. What an odd thing to wait for. We also
have restive, restless, roaming eyes. Eyes that don’t shut down. Eyes that often
feel hemmed in or framed by a 35mm lens border, eyes that correspond to a 24-70,
or a 200-400, depending on what they encounter. Eyes that curse the dumb
conglomeration of plastic, brass and glass we place in front of them, asking
that mix of pixels and wiring to be surrogate vision, supple as the real thing.
Hah! We might as well ask a fucking toaster oven.
I'll be visiting again to read some more rants and stories, and ogle some more beautiful images.
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