I wrote this obit to photography yesterday... I dedicate it to John White today.
My sermon on faith, technology and why we like photographs!? Please read... thanks.
Making a photograph 10 years ago took skill and faith.
Like a prayer the latent image vibrated in the atomic ether.
The latent image was formed by the peculiar particle or wave that travels at speed limit of the universe. A photon's ricochet off a baby's cheek then kissing a silver halide ion, changing its atomic vibration.
The latent image, that visual prayer, could hover in the netherworld for hours or decades until it was baptized in the alkaline waters rendering it an incarnate part of the physical world.
As a photographer or portrait maker, I often felt like a priest at a funeral mass.
I felt as if I were committing a person's incarnate image to "the ages".
One, two, perhaps a dozen exposures, or contemplations were made and committed to the atomic ether, the latent image, that visual prayer.
Perhaps I am waxing poetic?
I say I feel like Nik Wallenda must, being forced to use a safety net.
I used to render an entire families' celebration to the atomic ether.
I had faith, I had faith in the physics, the alkaline waters that after a couple nights' sleep I could resurrect the images back to the physical world. I was a magician, a wizard, great photographers were just that.
Someone pulled the curtain back, and rendered my darkened sanctuary obsolete, a curiosity of the past. Photons are now converted to digital representations, the transistor and binary programing though complex are now easy and magical in their near fretless use.
In our far off post apocalyptic future, I see a youngster picking up a shoe box of stuff. Discarding a hard-drive or using it as a hammer or mirror, then holding up a negative, slide or fading, but still all too real print, perhaps enshrining it, like we enshrine a cave painting or the relics of a saint.