This is what I wrote the other night. (more then a month ago)
Theres a baby downstairs that cries, it roars crying like Al Pacino did in The Godfather, one of the most piercing and humiliating scenes I have ever seen in my life. When I hear that baby crying I can hear the sounds of an adult, crisply and clearly. It is an unhappy child. I hear that little thing open up like an orchestra and unleash a cry of disbelief and complete inability to contemplate the word Help.
The disconnect between mother and child, is subconscious; intrinsically, the mother loves the child naturally like any other mother would. However, somewhere buried deep within the realm of subconsciousness, lies an impasse. The predicament affords no luxuries to the owner. The disconnect, is an involuntary space between that, which makes a woman perform as a mother (and therefor the ability to recognize the babies directives), and the conscious mind. This impasse, is an irritant in the junction of thought streaming, which is where the mind breaks down the components of thought, and separates them into recognizable, and characterizable streams, relating to categories of psychological contemplation. This is how we produce thoughts also, where certain streams bind together to create an opinion or conviction. The amount of any particular stream dictates the direction, form and benevolence of the thought and ultimately influences any subsequent actions.
These streams are influenced by both internal pre-recognized experiences, which in of them selves are a packaged containers of streams varying in intensity depending on the circumstance, and new previously unreconciled ingredients which come together to generate convictions which are usually based on pre-established stream containers additional cumulative values.
I shot this about a decade or more ago, a dull average nondescript day I had some things to do in town and I was rushing around, I saw this as I walked onto a busy pedestrian street. I made the shot and I dont remember consciously knowing why I made it because I had grown up in a conservative country which was on the cusp of rapid cultural and economic changes which were going to change everything in a massive way.
People like these, typically people who had no children of their own, (in many cases spinsters and bachelors who had been children during the war themselves) who protested abortion in a visually extreme manner before, who, one can only presume, had some compelling force the drive them to dedicate their lives and sanity to promoting such incredibly vile and repugnant imagery in a way as shock everyone young and old into their way of seeing their political standpoint.
As soon as the economy started to visually change the anti-abortionists disappeared from society but would return with a new younger generation as soon as the economy growth slowed.
Negativity begets negativity.
I remember this man trying to engage her on some philosophical hook and her response was tight lipped religious piety.
I don’t really show the pictures of the people that interest me the most because I don’t think I have the narrative to back it up in its own right yet, and flickr isn’t the forum for that work either, I’ve kind of dug myself into a hole there withe whole street and what I defined as the kind of street I wanted in Seattle Street and which has generally become accepted as an acceptable version of that decisive, contemplative, gag, style, which doesn’t really rely on any level of intellectual insight to understand or appreciate, the pictures of the people I am really drawn to are highly reliant on my audience being open to seeing something that they normally don’t even register and having their attention drawn to it, ..and so it’s been my belief that my Audience is infact not American at all.
See Street photography has become about shooting the oddities and the highlights of the everyday or at least that’s the premise; using the “everyday” as an excuse to make pictures of things that stand out of that “everyday” entity which really doesn’t mean what it is in that context anymore. Look at the London Street Photography festival as it stands now, at 3 years old, and all of the pictures have a basic sameness to them and a sensationalism to them which irritates me now.