I’ve gotten a tumblr, and I think I’ll be updating that a lot more than this.


“The goal, of course, and the reaon for the photographer’s attachment to the photobook, is meaning. The photobook, in short, is about narrative, making photographs tell a story, giving them relevant meaning. For in spite of their apparently clear and concrete relationship to the world, photographs are fragile and slippery carriers of meaning, at least beyond the level of ‘what you see is what you get.’ A photograph is an abstracted trace of reality, in which time is abnormally suspended, making photography an inherently unreliable witness—precisely because it seems to finite and irrefutable compared to other forms of documentary imagery.

“Paradoxically, the closer a photograph comes to being  a dry, expressionless record, the more ineffable it can appear to be. A single photograph can express much, but in a narrative sense, it is like a single word. Without the other ‘words,’ there can be no sentences, paragraphs, and chapters. The single paragraph can only go so far, although in the case of a masterpiece, many might think that it is far enough—and on occassion it is so.”

From “Elliptical Narratives: Some Thoughts on the Photobook,” Gerry Badger.


So Fancy poster series
Cyanotypes by Ruth Skinner
20 x 26 in
$25 each, $80 for a series of 4


By Tom Hsu.


Mamma Andersson, “Pigeon House,” 2010.


The sadness of having a tree cut down. You don’t get over it.


57 varieties is currently up at Mitchell Press Gallery on West 1st. This is both an exhibition and a book collaboration between myself and Arseni Khamzin. It’s not easy to get to, but there’s a lot of love and angst behind it.


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I really loved the tiny Kodak lab in my neighbourhood. The owner couldn’t understand a word I tried to say, and his clock was always really off. But these are the dirtiest negatives in the world, and I just don’t have the patience.