An Ensemble of Names Proliferate Over Time

I remember in my life exactly where I realized the repose: I turned slightly one  morning: My room had some Edward Hopper details: I stood where Hopper might have… I saw someone else’s world: It was mine: It was new to me forever: Then I gazed some more: This city for my second time was also the first time I remember talking to myself about photography: Photography-I had not seen:

One memorable moment was here alone with me in this city: I walked beyond the alone with my eyes peering into decades behind and ahead:

There was a cafe; A secret hideaway I sat: Daily I watched Rod Serling toss time forwards and backwards: The entire time of a day eclipsed dreams to be had:  Presence and experience was (and still, possibly) my light: I awakened  to see myself through history that will become or has been before me: The light in my mind or others must have a beginning: The mother’s womb comes to mind: I imagine this possibility everyday: “Snap”. So a new day begins.

Arnold Böcklin‘s “Isle of the Dead” comes to mind often: Viewed from afar and viewed as if within {pause} it is a quiet place: Serene ripplets cross ample immensity of a secretive waterway: Serenity offered: Something portent: The end game is near: Peaceful expectations vanish: torrents of desires  approach: I seize architecture; I seize the streets; I seize the cities; I interpret cities; I interpret the streets; I interpret architecture: Cultures remain captured in my frames: The camera spins atop an unfettered ball bearing {pause} aimless and equally engaged: I am rewarded by the experience and the surprises that land in my focus:

The structure of cultures: The structure of cities and streets are captured in freeze frame: My first and every city invites me to collaborate my lights and colors with experiences to be seen: I am immeasurably unleashed with equal trepidation and fierce desires to secure photos of destinations: The assembled components appear: I snap: The waywardness in me is destined: The depth of the infinite experience in a single frame is what defines dignity in not a career but a life worth seeing:

Time is stretched out like an intimate canvas across decades: Celluloid and digital captures only become enviable when photography’s plasticity affords me something more.

An ensemble of cities in pictures: Paramount in my time are experiences: The surface of my archival pages indicates many thousands of names and places: The entire collective of decades is something dear:

Dangers and entertainment alone in one place: The park-shadows frightened: Smoke seen from the roadside: A meal skewered over a fire: Riveting history I have not seen: Thousands collide and dance in shadows past as I inch my way to make  new captures: I need not escape the shadows or the histories: They are in many ways why I am here to make photographs: Again and again to capture: The city, the country or continent I replicate my steps to be certain: I repeat my steps to improve my points of view:

Crowds bring mysteries: Mysteries are heightened by noises and the anticipation of what is near: Traffic stops: Strips of streets meld into excitement and something new: Jack The Ripper came to mind: Confessions of an Opium Eater came to mind: The realist in me prevails: Wild photograph  fantasies fade from memory: Truth in photography is my raison d’être:

Andre Kertesz photograph of his brother exiting the glare from a single street light is the simplest template to live by: I have seen that image one million times not in my dreams but in each passage to a new place through a new passage of time: it is there for and to become my balm: To tell me to breathe with the lone intention of the single frame{pause} my capture: Follow the light no matter how bright how dim: It will lead to a place: The place not often of your choosing but anew:

The ensemble of so many names and places are reminders of my years in the streets of cities: In and around the architecture of cities: Gratifyingly listening to stories about cities, places and architecture; My camera may tell stories: The buildings in my scope by Oscar, Thom, Zaha, Frank, Renzo, and …. I have spoken to{pause{ in my own language in my own time with my own meaning.