They waited. The door did not open. The rain did not stop. The darkness made a tent and covered them completely.
There is no particular reason to search for meaning.
I don't have a burning desire to go out and document anything. It just happens when it happens. It's not a conscious effort, nor is it a struggle. Wouldn't do it if it was. The idea of the suffering artist has never appealed to me. Being here is suffering enough.
Often people ask what I'm photographing, which is a hard question to answer. And the best what I've come up with is I just say: Life today.
I am at war with the obvious.
I had this notion of what I called a democratic way of looking around, that nothing was more or less important.
I don't think about what camera I should use that much. I just pick up the one that looks nicest on the day.
Sometimes big trees grow out of acorns - I think I heard that from a squirrel.
America already holds the record for freak movements. Now we have a new one. It's called "Restoring Confidence. " Rich men who never had a mission in life outside of watching a stock ticker are working day and night "restoring confidence. " Writers are working night shifts, speakers' tables are littered up, ministers are preaching statistics, all on "restoring confidence. "
I end not far from my going forth By picking the faded blue Of the last remaining aster flower To carry again to you.
Failure is the price of excellence.