The thing about printing your photos, is how it changes your perception of your own work, it changes your belief in the work itself. Knowing it’ll be seen by others, is breaking a barrier. Its willful exposure of ones self, in the hopes that I connect with an audience at my own level. Its nerve-wracking.
“..next time, stick around, don’t be afraid to engage with him, in a general way, and if he asks (why are you taking so many pictures), you can tell him its a study of life on the street, and that he happens to be a perfect fit, for part of it.
This way you can build a relationship with him, and trust, and you will get astonishing images worthy of note, as long as you maintain a core vision of how the symmetry of the elements work together in the frame, then your images will fucking explode.”
I love and respect all of the people I photograph on the streets. I see you, and I see you in the fragmented moments when you are off guard, unaware, and existing in the space between consciousness and biology.
To my heroes, my street loves; my respect, always.
Imagine yourself as a cinematographer, tasked with the job of making iconic scenes with your camera.
The producer is watching you closely, because you are the one who realizes the dream. You are under pressure to make the world wow to your brilliance.
You have to be conscious in the moment, conscious behind the camera, aware and awake to makeopportunities for yourself and exploit them further.
Take your time, instead of making one image make 5 or 7. Move around, look at the place you are in, think dimensionally.
Watch the elements as they move, snap the moments as they occur, add your own control factors, manage the scene without interfering in it.
Know your lens, and know what the image will look like you’ve taken it.
Be conscious in the viewfinder, even if it isn’t at your eye.
Shoot to complement the thoughts in your mind, not the other way around.