or how I learned to look at old pictures with new eyes.
Photography is voyeurism with instruments. And interesting light.
Every once in a very blue moon I am asked to make erotic images. It is a fascinating exercise that usually combines excitement, fear, and malfunctioning light bulbs. Excitement is the result of being asked, it is either an affirmation of my skill level or a blatant case of mistaken identity
Fear is of course the other side of that coin, being asked to take intimate pictures is an honour and failure is a terrible breach of trust. As for the light bulbs issue, my solution is to avoid using them.
The following series is not exactly the result of what I photographed, It is the result of what I saw. Using modern technological tools (a pair of scissors and some sticky tape), as well as more conventional instruments (photocopy machine), I try and recreate the images I see while Im taking the pictures.
Marcel Proust writing about something entirely different encapsulated my thoughts better than I could ever dream of:
“Le véritable voyage de découverte ne consiste pas à chercher de nouveaux paysages, mais à avoir de nouveaux yeux.”
“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” — Marcel Proust