Work on my book continues. It’s going very well. I sent the first three chapters out to a few writer friends and the response was incredible. At least I don’t have to worry about what I’m going to put on the back jacket cover.
“So, so brave, and beautifully written… so articulate and self-aware.”
“The honesty combined with the writing style is wonderful… this reads beautifully.”
“It’s beautifully written, evocative and relentlessly honest. It also makes me remember why, aside from the biological imperative, I like women so much. Obviously you do too, which is why you make such good pictures.”
“Oh my, what a gift it was to read it. Your writing style is so simple, so concise and straightforward that it mirrors your photography in some respects i.e., on the surface it just is what it is, yet there is a lingering, a pause, in your writing (and photography) that calls the pilgrim back not to observe but to participate, an invitation to explore and your work evokes from me memories and emotions that may or may not have anything to do with what your photography or writing set out to accomplish or capture – – but only because of it or through it can I find that place where it becomes the “Ah Ha”. Now, that’s just a gift. A mystery. It’s spiritual, that downright “soul-schtuff” that a Jesuit could journey to the Vatican and back and never encounter.”
I guess that means I should continue with this! Every time I have writers block, I’ll just read those very kind comments for inspiration.
This is a photograph I took in the Hollywood Hills about 1996. I was shooting a friend of mine who was house sitting a gorgeous home, and I found this typewriter on a patio bench. I didn’t touch anything. That’s just how I found it.