Lately, I’ve been reworking some of my photos from a couple of years ago, and I get this really good feeling while I’m working. It’s like I’m right in the middle of my creative zone. I don’t really care about when I have to get up the next morning. When I’m feeling creative like this, I want to take advantage of it. I put on some easy listening music, and go to it. The time flies by very quickly.
On those occasions when I get the opportunity to just wander around with my camera, I’m always searching for something; I want to capture people expressing themselves naturally, uninhibited by their surroundings. Honest human emotions.
I want to capture this indistinguishable look of passion. It’s pure. It’s love. It’s real. It moves me deeply. When i’m fortunate enough to capture people in this moment, it’s like I get to experience what they are feeling. I draw from it. It stays in my heart for a while, and warms me.
I strive to capture this passion, probably more than you realize. It’s something I need to feel.
Old cars. They have this kind of old car smell inside them that I find strangely comforting. I like old cars. Big, old comfortable things. Front seats the size of couches, simple but charming old radios, and those old dashboard lights.
I wanna go for a nice long drive. But I don’t even need to drive. I want someone to drive me. I wanna see the trees go by my window all day while I sit back in my seat, and daydream. Turn the radio on. I’ll open my window a bit when we’re out of the city. Head south.
Drive me until the maple trees fade into Joshua trees, and we’re in the desert. I’ll fall asleep with the sun in my face.