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Rich Image, Poor Image
I owned cameras intermittently through my teens and early twenties, but for most of that time I believed that it was better to “be in the moment” than to look at the world through a lens—a fear of alienation that left most of my student life mercifully undocumented. I found a handful of pictures from those years in the basement, all taken by other people. Each one that I could save now seemed precious and meaningful, even those that weren’t technically “good” photographs. They connected me to a part of my past—and a version of myself—that has begun to feel very distant... More here. Thanks to Kirk.
Excellent article, just excellent.