something new, something old, something borrowed, something blue… almost fiction.
how is an artist born? how far is the fiction from the truth? how impassioned are the recollections of the imagined? how did a famous photographer become an artist one day? where did i take this photo? i imagine it was that trip to Zimbabwe before we lost our land…or maybe that straight stretch on highway 20 south where i climbed down into the ditch to shoot a barbed wire sunset…first you waited and then i felt you there beside me…
come with me … CLICK!