Texture Torture
I made a shot of a wall here fifteen years ago that I remember perfectly. There is (or was) a 16x20 print of it hanging in my brother's house in New Orleans. If I had more time, I'd go find the spot to see if I could remake it.
It's funny, for all the preservation efforts made in this town, it's still so full of pastel decrepitude. It's distinctive too. It's not like Hanoi or Varanasi. There isn't as much scribble or residue. Antigua has its own particular texture vocabulary born of narrow sidewalks and colonial building materials. Again, if I wasn't working, I'd explore it more thoroughly.
This is the first time I've had a gig where I didn't pad my trip with a little free time and it's the last time I do such a thing. To ride by stuff I'd like to shoot while in a hotel shuttle bus and know I can't revisit it is a mild form of torture. It reminds me of the old advertising warning, "Don't let this happen to you."
Make pictures.
It's funny, for all the preservation efforts made in this town, it's still so full of pastel decrepitude. It's distinctive too. It's not like Hanoi or Varanasi. There isn't as much scribble or residue. Antigua has its own particular texture vocabulary born of narrow sidewalks and colonial building materials. Again, if I wasn't working, I'd explore it more thoroughly.
This is the first time I've had a gig where I didn't pad my trip with a little free time and it's the last time I do such a thing. To ride by stuff I'd like to shoot while in a hotel shuttle bus and know I can't revisit it is a mild form of torture. It reminds me of the old advertising warning, "Don't let this happen to you."
Make pictures.
1 comments:
lovely texture!! if walls could talk.
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