Also known as: nicklese
a point in time, i had hundreds of photos here... photos that mattered to me... but It's been almost two years since I picked up my camera with the intent of making a photograph. my love has left and demanded satisfaction, so here my stream sits... naked and unadorned. Time away from the camera has made clear a few truths about why I make pictures. The process of making a photo allows me to shape the world and subjectively insert myself into a moment in which I falsely perceive myself being a part of. I used to believe that making photos provided a framework for me to understand the world, others and myself, but what I've come to understand is what I used to perceive as the essence of the thing in front of my lens is really just a perverse manifestation of my own subconscious trying to idealize an otherwise unremarkable subject. The net effect is oppressive and my need to be understood overshadows my ability to understand and simply be a part of the process. I've become a bystander... an observer... indifferent and unable to feel that connection that, not very long ago, sustained me spiritually and intellectually. Empathy is a fragile gift. The fact that I am without subject or opportunity persists, but it comes down to one simple, circumstantial point... I've lost my muse. what remains is a transition; a period where i find myself inspired more by others than my own imagination.
