Everything has been photographed. Not everything has been seen.

Everything has been photographed.  Every intersection.  Every building, every city street, newspaper dispenser, fire hydrant, architectural nuance.  There is nothing new under the sun.  The only new to be brought to the world is how each individual photographer (for the purposes of this post) sees, develops and shares how he or she sees the world.

That’s why I shoot.  I walk, look, see, shoot.  I’m not fast enough.  I miss.  I miss more than I care to think about.  Gestures, facial expressions, figures in just the right pose with just the right background.  I miss them constantly.  I see these things whirling past me in a rhythmic and furious pace.  Patterns of people and objects, faces and lights, shapes, colors, shades of grey, shadows. They move and fight and love and shop and talk and dream on these same streets I’ve walked for years.

I miss them all.  Am not fast enough, clear-headed enough, good enough to convey to the world what I see.  It’s maddening.

And then, just when I’m utterly frustrated at my seeming incompetence and complete lack of anything approaching photographic skill, I’ll capture something that speaks to me.  The clouds part, the angels sing.  Something that is ALMOST exactly what I saw.  The lines are right.  The figures are just so.

The gear doesn’t matter.  The time of day, whether I’m hungry, whether I think someone is looking at me disapprovingly, whether I need to be at work early tomorrow.  It’s the process.   The dance.  The adventure and a keen sense of being alive and a part of this city with which I am in love.  It is all around me.

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