Random Acts of Iphone Photography

I’m between cameras. The old one died. I need to get a new one.

I’m taking grainy snapshots on my cellphone.

It’s a different aesthetic. Like a pinhole camera. It’s random. Quick. And dirty.

I’m taking less pictures. I needed a break. Every meal had been punctuated by framing and posing and Don’t. Start. Eating. Til. I’ve. Taken. A. Picture.

Sometimes I take photos all the time. The smallest most inconsequential things. And the way the city is a palimpsest, layered with words posters graffitti.

One day, I was waiting for a bus that was late: stressed, hyperventilating. I pulled out my Iphone and took pictures until I could breathe again.

Sometimes, making art saves me. I had forgotten this.

Sometimes it’s about seeing the sky differently through a tiny warped lens. Sometimes, it’s about seeing the sky.

Sometimes, I take no photos at all. I try to remember.

I taste it

Or I write it down instead.

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