I had a real day off today. No moving no work. I woke up at the crack of dawn, drove to the train station and went to the city. It was nice. Quiet. Good company. I didn’t really do anything, I just walked around and watched people. I caught a “photo bro” making photos from his car of those of us sitting on the steps of the old Penn Station so when he turned his camera to me I made eye contact with it I kind of hope it creeps him out a little. Photographers can always spot the camera, which is probably why there are almost no candid shots of me. I was thinking about this dude all day, making photos of those of us sitting and waiting while sitting and waiting in his luxury sedan. It was kind of a surreal moment. I am a wall flower when I photograph, but I always am standing on the same ground as my subjects, and I make a concerted effort to not be the one in power when I’m behind the lens, because being the one behind the lens is already less vulnerable than being in front of it. I’ve got a pound and a half of glass between me and my subject, just like I’ve got a four foot table between me and any customer that comes in to have me design a frame for them, and while photographing someone can be extremely vulnerable on both ends, I’ve still got the protection of my camera.
I think power is something that’s on everyone’s mind lately. Can we even out power in our own small worlds in hopes that it will permeate throughout the rest of society? I don’t really have a thesis for this one, because I really really wish that we could, but I’m pretty sure that it’s going to take longer than Mother Earth will allow us to remain here. I think we can all do small things, like consistently checking our own privilege but the bigger picture stuff is so murky that I’m not going to attempt to untangle it in a blog entry that usually takes me between fifteen minutes and an hour to write, not enough research time, not enough hours in the day to truly tackle this one.
Anyway, the cat keeps stepping on my keyboard, I think this might be his least favorite part of me being home. He keeps trying to delete my work.