I’m reminded of early photographic inspiration when I look at these photos from the Cape.
White whites and black blacks. Soft and sharp images that bleed into another time. The days that led to graduate school(s).
Back then, I lived in Hawaii where I studied photography and painting at a little art school in Makawao. I carried my camera around, in search of my voice. Hours were spent in the dark. Inside a cupboard size closet I developed roll after roll of black and white 35 mm film. I learned more about the craft of photography. I tried new developers and films, filters, and printing techniques.
My photography instructor recommended The Daybooks of Edward Weston. I read it cover to cover and toted it around with me in my camera bag. It was as close as I could get to Weston’s spirit. His way of seeing the world. Intimate portraits and scenes from the days he spent in Mexico and California. It all felt familiar.
Reality, a dream.
Composed in light.
I still have Weston’s book which now rests on my night stand. Every now and then I flip through the pages, a testament to my continuous journey with photography. Maybe you’ll find the book insightful as well.
Through photography I would present the significance of facts, so they are transformed from things seen to things known. Wisdom controlling the means—the camera—makes manifest this knowledge, this revelation, in form communicable to the spectator. —Edward Weston, 1932