“Artist” statement

“Remember the golden rule: whatever doesn’t kill us makes us weirder, and when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.” Warren Ellis, riffing on Hunter S Thompson, a hell of a combination.

If my metrics are to be believed, no one gives a shit about my philosophy of photography. Or opinions of others philosophy. Or my photography. Or my existence.

Which is somehow oddly liberating this morning.

You see, if no one cares, you have no expectations to live up to.

I had originally thought about making a book of these thoughts that no one would ever read, but I’ve decided to make a website instead. Very early 2000s of me, yes, but I liked parts of the late 90s and early 2000s. There was this stupid optimism that tech would make things better. We were on the verge of a great change that would improve all of our lives.

Turns out that nascent AI has already become our overlords. It spends its time writing poetry and painting like some French aristocrat while we labor on in spreadsheets and trivial tasks.

So I think I’ll start there. Ignoring things I should be doing and just hammering out words.

For about a decade now, I’ve been randomly taking pictures. I’ve been taking pictures for far longer than that, I’m an old and have been prone to fiddly hobbies most of my life. I don’t remember consciously starting out with a goal, but I may have unintentionally ended up with one. What is it? I’m not quite sure. Maybe a sense of place? A superficial interest in things I have never seen? I haven’t put my finger on it, but something is there. Apparently a decade of it isn’t long enough for me to see the shape of the thing. So onward, and maybe it will be made clear later. Maybe time and I can come to some sort of gentleman’s agreement to leave each other alone for long enough to get something done.