Images in memory like cinematic stills: where have the people gone?
This month, in the print edition of Newcity, I wrote about trying to pin down frames and fragments of memory that are as keenly composed as stills.
Spaces, spaces in time, spaces at times. How different is this kind of memory from that of the other people in the screening room, in a worldwide audience? I should’ve been a production designer, a fine artist of the frozen moment. The photographs I take—studiously sticking to the immediate and the impulsive, the fraction of a second chosen in a fraction of a second—have pretty much the same framing as the memories. So there’s some consistency to how my mind has trained itself from a life of looking and a diet of images.