“All photographs are a collection of facts, but the inflection is different.
This is one of the great mysteries of photography: how we bring so much of ourselves to such a simple instrument.”
—Richard Misrach, on Landscape and Meaning
I pretty much always shoot from the heart, trusting my instincts. If something catches my eye or hits me at the moment, I take the picture. I rely on the culling and sorting of images back home, on the monitor, to hone in on what I’m trying to say. I am ruthless with regard to which pictures I keep. Both of these images were fun to take — and honestly, required a fair amount of effort. Pulling the car over, getting out of the car. And for the picnic table at the entrance to Chesapeake Trial, walking in the ditch alongside Route 17 on a chilly winter day. It’s always worth it. Even if the picture is mediocre. Even if my vision doesn’t materialize.
What I’m looking for is something evocative and universal. It’s not my job to tell the reader what to feel . . . which is why titles can be problematic. But it is my work to pull together the pieces in the frame for the story.