Near Central Park. I was pricing hotels tonight. Getting the itch for sure.
I found good characters. I framed it right. I missed the focus.
My whole life people told me that if I went to New York City, I would fall in love with the place. I never paid them much mind.
I never went until I was over 33 years old and travelling for work. I was there for a week. I found it interesting. I spent an awesome day wandering the streets and taking photos. At the end of the week, I was ready to come home.
I decided it was ok. I certainly hadn’t fallen in love with the city. I didn’t care so much if I ever returned.
But then a strange thing happened. I started dreaming about how much of New York City I hadn’t yet seen. I started to wonder what was down those alleys and on those many streets I’d never even come close to seeing. I started to get obsessed with going back to take more photos.
There was just nowhere else on earth that I knew of that was *that* visually rich with buildings and people and stories unfolding right in front of you all the time.
I did go back a few times. Each time I had the same thought when I was leaving ‘Well, there. I had a nice visit and now I can move on and explore another part of the world’. And each time, after awhile, I’d get thinking about it again and decide I absolutely had to go back one more time and try to get some good photos again.
I keep a copy of Bob Shamis book New York in Color near my desk where I work (along with a bunch of other photo books). It caught my eye today. I looked through it again. I think it’s happening again. I’m feeling like I need to get back there and take some photos.
Maybe it’s because I missed this one. And at least a couple of dozen more.
I want it back. I need a do over.
The last of the PEI photos from this trip.
The other inbetween
If you’ve never seen this BBC documentary on William Eggleston, you should make time to watch it.