For the last few weeks, I've had a repreive from my full Three Mile Island meltdown but now I'm right back at the TMI‑2 reactor core. How do I know this? Oh, that's because I started crying at Staples today while making copies. Right.
Of course there's many reasons for this atypical sensitivity, but undoubtedly the biggest reason I'm like a raw nerve is that I'm really looking at the photos right now. When editing, I'm pretty pragmatic and while some images are chosen with a emotional connection, I'm not really feeling the image in the moment: I'm just choosing it or not choosing it.
I haven't really looked at the image above since I worked on America... even thought I see it almost everyday, this portrait hangs in my studio. But when I was printing it this time, I found myself becoming nauseous. Just this one photo has so much... this inhuman attack, Monique's life and death, my love, appreciation and gratitude toward Monique's mom, Gina, and Monique's whole family, how we're responible for each other and how we are all connected. And how hard it is to make it through. And how Monique became so important in my life. Generosity, love, horror, grief, need, connection, luck. Love you, and can never begin to tell you how much your support means to me.
And what about the photo above? This woman sold lottery tickets up the block from where I stayed in Madrid. From where I stayed in Madrid for a month. As in, being in Spain for a month. Now, let me assure you that never once in my life have I ever thought that I would be spending a month in Spain. Whose life is like that? I still can't believe it. At this point there's no question that I'm a lottery winner, and I'm not talking Shirley Jackson.
This is what's happening now, acme, nadir, acme, nadir, ad nauseum.