|Basilica della Santissima Annunziata - Florence 2019|
Today is 10 November 2022. I had a visiting fireman from Portland for a week and I left him at the airport yesterday. Now that I am alone I may begin to fill holes into missing slots this last month. Because tomorrow is Remembrance Day I may sit in front of my computer and write a few.
I feel obliged to do two things every day and I feel guilty when I don’t do them. One is writing these blogs and the other is walking Niño around the block. We walked today.
An ode to a cat - Pablo Neruda
Because I take the same route that Rosemary took with Niño I find that the pleasure of walking my cat is dampened by the missing presence of Rosemary. I don’t believe in ghosts but it is difficult not to surmise that she is nearby as we walk.
Walking on my neighbourhood street today gave me the idea of writing this lightweight blog about the concept of street photography.
In this 21st century photograph now seems to consist of pristine nature photographs, macro flower shots, and many sunsets and sunrises. There are also street photographs that are always taken on streets.
I don’t grasp why street photographs cannot include grab shots taken during trips, inside churches and museums.
My photograph of a confessional in a Florence church here is something that I would call a street photograph.
I have written often that I believe that our ability to associate seemingly disparate stuff is what makes us human.
In this blog I link my confessional photograph with one of the best films I have ever seen based on a novel by John Gregory Dunne called True Confessions.
Because I am currently reading Dunne’s wife Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking my association goes at more lengths.
Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant - Joan Didion
As for the proliferation of sunsets and sunrises (are cats now old hats out of the box?) my suspicion is that photographers shoot alone and are not pushed or inspired by magazine art directors as I was.
That is a pity.