When we take pictures in today's mad race to create our lives through photographs, how can we even begin to understand the surreal nature of these photographs and its effects on our relationship with others.
There is an instinctive drive to take pics. It is a way to claim victory over the environment. To capture those fleeting moments that pass by and still times march.
We see differently now, not a natural sight where we take in the whole of the scene and interact with it on a personal level, but now we put up a barrier (the camera) between us and the reality we share with others. We look to take photos of fragments of reality which limits our ability to give these pictures a foot hold in a bigger context. We don't want to interact with them but capture the subject like a predator and once we have captured them, we can expose these photos to the world without a true purpose.
This saturation of imagery begins to limit our ability to connect to an outside world. We look to the picture to reaffirm our reality. And as more and more images are uploaded we become numb to the violent rage in human nature, that nature that is vulgar and willing to do anything for attention.
We see on the streets of any city (no matter what size) the inevitable signs of the growing necessity to take pictures. We always have our phone camera ready for that unexpected moment when life's meager expositions are revealed in an instant, and then captured for no other purpose than to store on some social media site for eager eyes. And then easily forgotten.
The image capture is now a naive sampling of a subject without thought, a casual, random exploitation of the trivial as art.
