thank you, mister eggleston

a group of wildly talented photographers gathered for a viewing and discussion of eggleston at lacma this afternoon.  in attendance:  dan shepherd, ashly leonard stohl (another one!  crazy!), shawn robinson, michael kirchoff, j. wesley brown, claire mallett, and tom johnson.  in from out of town for photoLA: david bram of fraction magazine, crista dix from wallspace, and hamidah glasgow from the center for fine art photography.

everyone enjoyed the show immensely and seemed to agree that we owe eggleston major bigtime for redefining fine art photography.  hell, i might not even be taking pictures if it weren't for him.  i randomly pulled his book off the shelf at a used bookstore in hollywood and suddenly understood something about still images that i never had before.

what i feel when i look at eggleston's work is a kind of loneliness.  the kind you get when you're left alone in a room that you just shared with someone.  you can hear their voice, the last thing they said still hanging in the air.  you can smell their cigarette.  but they're gone.  and what's left are innocuous reminders of their presence.  an indented seat, a can of coke, tire tracks.  it isn't a glamorous moment, or even special, and it would be swiftly extinguished forever, if not for the camera.

souvenir images taken with my deathbed cybershot.