I am starting to develop this sense of ‘subjective and objective democracy’. At this point this is not the ‘avoid the obvious’ democracy that William Eggleston refers to, as he avoids the obvious photographic clichés. But of a democracy that is removing ideas/things/colours/subjects/etc.
After many years I am starting to get an inkling of a visual signature. This is the result of personal dialogs with myself regarding the question of “what does photography mean to me?”. A cliché question for sure, but we all have to somehow resolve this, and it’s fucking hard to answer honestly.
Before I could even bring myself to answer this I had to learn the language of being honest with myself. There’s the real problem. The path to do that was to go back to my earliest memories, or more specifically the first questions I posed upon the world.
The first issue that meant anything to me was existential. Around my mid single digits having asked my mother if everyone had to die and her affirmative blew me away. It made no sense – to be conscious and then to perish. In fact, it terrified me. And after she confirmed that I would also disappear one day I found that quite the unacceptable proposition. I still think about this every day.
To conclude, life and all matter essentially will perish. Ideas, humanity, stones, mountains, love, planets and stars all have expiry dates, nothing seems immune to time.
Thus now I have been developing this idea photographically, that essentially to photograph any object is a practice of self-indulgence. It seems I am not really interested in the ‘message’ of a photograph rather perhaps than the state of it.