A photograph holds a moment when all of the particles of the universe were in a unique arrangement and never again to be in that same arrangement. In a sense, or perhaps Really, there is no “moment” as the universe is processes in constant movement and it is the photograph that creates the “moment.” The photograph which we think as something that is an image of a “Real Event” iis really unreal. This image was made in 1970, they look about five years old here, so they may be about 45 years old now. Whenever I see this image I wonder what kind of life they have (had) growing up in rural Maine.
Each of our lives is like a moment, the day I was born and yesterday are equally as far away as regards to any return trip. and when we die, our life is a moment, a moment created by our life.
This is the power of a photograph—for whatever it is, it is record of something real. When we don’t visually recognize what it is, we think or say “What is it?” Or when we know its not something real, we say “It’s (something real) been maipulated (photoshopped?).” And yet even though we think of the photograph as something real, among ourselves we often have a difficult time agreeing on what is real.
Two little girls, a moment when their life and mine came together—quite literally, I was driving down the street in Strong, I saw this, stopped the car, picked up the camera, took this image and the moment was gone.