- Garry Winogrand
So I was sitting in our 7th floor living room in Portland one day when I heard some tap, tap, tapping at our window. I looked over to see a window washer hanging there, his feet just raking the top of our window as he lowered himself to clean it. I grabbed my camera, waited for him to ease his way onto the balcony and then made this picture. The image became its own new something else.
One day Eddie and I went on a late afternoon walk. Three guys in business suits came up from behind us and passed us with long, steady strides. They moved on in front of us, their shadows lengthening, and I pulled my camera out of my back pocket to make this picture. Another attempt at capturing something as it morphed into something else.
Back in Kansas City, I was at a coffee shop trying to do some work at my computer when I got totally distracted by the slant of sunlight to my left. The guy seated near me was reading the paper, and the large photo above him kind of repeated the patterns of light around him. Again with the camera that was in my back pocket.
I can't seem to beat this addiction that is called "taking-pictures-pretty-much-all- the-time." And, frankly, it seems to be getting
Oh, and check this out. Here is a photograph made by Andre Ketersz in Martinque in 1973. When I was working on my window washing photo, I thought of it.