an image diary

"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Friday, May 15, 2009

. . . . .


Yes, tunnel vision: "it's all we've got." The only reason to pick up a camera is to enforce tunnel vision. To be discriminating--to a fault. Say you do it enough, a few years in the same way, the same gaze in every image. Until you can see the fault of the instrument laid bare, the limits of its capacity to sense light against the capacity of light to be light. The instrument quakes, it rattles (unless you are standing still, so still you almost do not exist), it seizes moments as if they are hours and brings phantoms into the solid world. It blurs faces. Until in the dream of the field, there is only the instrument in view. You look away, you stand back. You make out patterns in the grain, and close the window as it explodes into gravel and noise. --Until standing back and looking away no longer fool your eye. All you see is camera, what this instrument cannot show you how to see (unless everything is standing still, so still it almost does not exist). This is blindness the same as silence, make no doubt. This is cave in.


The new view? We'll see.


"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"

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