Pussy put his ass to sleep, now he calling me NyQuil
I had a creative hot streak in the 1940s and since then I’ve been pot boiling.
I realize that as I get more experience as I get older, my perception changes and that feeds the photograph.
I meet young artists and it becomes clear that with some the main motivation is getting a show in Chelsea. It strikes me that this is very different to the way it was for me, which was that I wanted to understand photography and the world and myself.
I'm not interested in doing the same kind of picture over and over again. I pose problems for myself. Sometimes they are aesthetic problems and sometimes they are logistical problems.
I don't know how much a photograph can add to a biography, the way a film or writing or narrative medium could. Because it's a frozen image.
If I only try to solve the problems I set for myself, then I'm limited by what I can conceive of. I can't solve a problem I can't conceive. But if someone else gives me a visual problem, it can be out of the whole realm of my normal practice.
Then came October, full of merry glee.
I am not in the world to care for my life, but for souls.
when all of life becomes crowded with profound and weighty matters, making time to engage in trivial things becomes an even greater priority.
Then there was Clark Ashton Smith, who wrote for Weird Tales and who had a wild imagination. He wasn't a very talented writer, but his imagination was wonderful.