There is something wonderfully drawn out about the process of photography. Interesting pictures do not happen in a moment as is often thought but are the result of an extended attention and receptiveness. This process shifts back and forth between a kind of pointing, the intuitive part, and organizing, the more reflective part. A further duality is introduced between the story already within the photographer for which he looks and the one he finds. Maybe this is mirrored in the fact that the best pictures contain a polarity and do not just point to one thing. To facilitate this requires a flow of creative energy, this flow is the privilege and pleasure of the artist.
After I expose a photograph I carry two latent images with me; one I put into my pocket. This is the one on film, a faint impression on silver halides, an actual touching of light and materials, waiting to be activated by chemicals, warmth and motion. The other image is the memory I carry with me, the moment that I lived, a position in relationship to my surroundings, seen and marked with opening of an aperture. It is this mental picture, which I hope will somehow overlay and connect with the physical, analogue one.
I am always surprised to find that the two never match. I see this not as a failure but as the dynamic workings of the process. The document created is pliable and takes on a life of its own. This process continues in mind and body of the viewer.