“You could say I’m a student of photography, and I am, but really I’m a student of America.”
- Garry Winogrand
(from an ARTnews article about the SFMoMA retrospective)
Before he died our father asked to be left
on the dining room table. It was difficult,
but we’ve learned to eat our meals around him,
though at times someone
still puts a fork into his leg.
Our guests become uncomfortable
when they see him on the table.
They ask if he’s asleep.
I always say yes, and that’s why they talk
in a whisper for the rest of the night.
Although he no longer brings a paycheck home
he provides for us in small ways.
We dust him daily; change his clothes weekly.
He no longer shouts, stalks the house in
longjohns, or comes home drunk Friday night.
We put a flower in his lapel every Sunday.
In the spring we take him outside
and air him out.
Then we buy him a new suit and put
a clove of garlic in his pocket for luck.
At Christmas our lives revolve around our father.
We wire him with colored lights,
sprinkle angel’s dust in his hair,
hang glass bulbs from his fingers and toes,
lay presents at his feet.
If I lived east of the Mississippi, I’d be there.
Happy Birthday Sally Mann
snowing again today, and I can’t stop thinking about this photo by Jeremy Chandler
heading home (at Concourse N Terminal)
new fiends, old friends, prints, books, galleries, museums, strong beer, even stronger coffee, best burger I’ve ever had, and a sunny final day…I’ll miss you Portland.
Thank You Photolucida
Robert Rauschenberg’s handwritten draft of a statement on photography first published in Rauschenberg Photographs, Pantheon Books, New York, 1981. From the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation Archives
Stuart Pilkington’s newest curatorial effort, Someone I Know, went online today. I’m honored to me included with such a varied and talented selection of photographers. I encourage you to spend time with the entire group, there really are some amazing pictures.
For my part, the picture above is from my last trip home - my grandpa, a couple weeks before he turned 97.
Easter in Englewood, early this morning.
just read this conversation between Blake Andrews and Richard Kalvar. i love that this interview is touched with pointed honesty and humor.