sight and memory

At a young age, I was spellbound by Edward Albee's protagonist in 'Zoo Story'; specifically, the mantra he lives by: “It's one of those things a person has to do; sometimes a person has to go a very long distance out of his way to come back a short distance correctly.” In Los Angeles, you Do need to go a long distance out of your way to connect with an other; to cross over and through the boundaries of our segregated communities; and bump into someone whose sense of home bears no relation to yours. The magic of portrait photography, light coming through glass onto silver halides and sensors, spins a connective tissue between you and those around you. It creates an instant community, wherever you go. I don't mean to be trite. I mean, as the years unspool, the camera is a GIFT. After a photo session, I kiss my cameras, lenses, and, after they cool down, the lights. In Los Angeles, I depend on an other trusting me to peer into their space until it becomes shared air. And right then, I feel free. That's the freedom which photography facilitates. It's so wonderful. There's a theory of memory that relates to sight. As light enters your eyes, it becomes liquid, to run down the tubes to your brain, When next, you see something that seems similar. The new liquid picks up traces of previous seeings that got caught in the tubes to arrive in your brain anew. Through photography, I never forget. I just wish I could spend even more time with everyone I photograph. Thank you so much for reading. It's an honor. yours, Danny