
As I type this, my film scanner is running. I’m scanning a lot of old 4 x 5 sheet film, some 120 film, and this, this was from 35MM, the oldest photograph of mine I guess you might see here.
The situation was that I was “house” sitting in a cabin, with free rent, while I was a college student. There was a bit of insulation, no running water (hence the jug), an antique leaky wood stove. But electricity, a refrigerator. The stove didn’t hold a fire overnight (though it would roar and cook before it burnt through the wood). Such a cold Vermont winter, like we don’t really seem to get anymore.
I like this picture, and the interesting thing is that even with so so many years having passed, it’s still hard to know whether it’s any good or whether I like it for all the reasons we have to fight through in putting something out in the world to resonate generally, beyond my own set of resonances.
I recently watched a documentary about another photographer, a contemporary of mine, and for her it was very different. For her it was all about putting her very personal resonances and so much about her out into the world. And she’s great, don’t get me wrong. But I’ve always distrusted my own eye when it’s about me to any great extent. I always think “because *I* made it” or “because I was there” or “because I am so creative” are all terrible reasons. Sometimes the images with a lot of that can still be great photos. It’s just trickier to sort it out, for me.
Still doing lots of scanning. Some of these sheets I can remember setting up the view camera in great detail, despite the decades. Others are a surprise. It’s interesting, and will continue to be as interesting as making new exposures, maybe for many reasons more interesting. Maybe my eye is better now? Maybe I know more about everything and I’m deeper. Still, I was on fire in a certain way in those younger days exploring film. We shall see.







