In my class tonight, a classmate mentioned Robert Frank's series, "The Americans", in reference to me feeling as though I am an outsider documenting unfamilar territory.
I can't help but notice the desperation in this place. The day laborer's waiting to be picked up in the morning in hopes of having a full days work juxtaposed against the patriotism of the soldiers that are stationed at the army base on the edge of San Clemente. This town is alive with desperation. It gives the city a certian rythm that is uncomfortable, but at the same time irresistible. I am insprired.
I have the desire to photograph now more than I have in a number of years; since before I came to ECIAD. As strange as it sounds ECIAD has slowly killed my desire to be creative. The uncontrolable urge to make images right now is the same feeling I had before I came to art school. It is raw, and uncomprimised. I'm shooting based on instinct, not based on what I feel is required. Distance is a key component for me, here, now. I feel like an outsider. I can ask myself how my story relates to thiers, and what that colabertion will create in my images. I feel as though the American dream is colapsing in on itself here.
This image was taken with my first camera a pentax K 1000. I made a polariod of it a few years later. It still resonates with me, its raw, I wanted to look at it, so I took a picture.
