Mission Street, San Pancho...I don't remember what Miss Thing and I discussed at this bus stop...I think this was 2005...Of all the people I've passed on foot on Mission Street day after day after month after year, I only saw Wiggy Woman one time... Sometimes I let people pass me by or willingly pass them by, but most of the time I hate myself for a few minutes after the fact...Sometimes it's a lazy thing, sometimes I'm on the goddamn phone, or am carrying too many bags, of fucking dance clothes with shoes hanging off the bag straps...I hear photographers travel light, aside from the camera(s)...(Frank Fournier has worn the same pragmatic outfit since 1975, guaranteed...)...I'm tired of being a bag lady... (in the proverbial sense, too)...I wanna be weightless in the streets again and am trying to negotiate that with this altered (improved?) self that has just emerged from the ICP...Did nothing change? Is it possible I'm more confused? Hmm. Heady...Anyway, what this release means is that I've re-realized there are still faces for the taking out there! There's this entire uneaten Apple I'm about to worm through...and sometimes that's the thing with patience + photography...the biggest commitment one could make really...knowing that the return isn't tomorrow PER SE, it's at the very end, the culmination, the group, the context, you --- on a continuum...but you keep going back...and that's refreshing / exciting / motivating...tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow...like Mikey writes...for everyone there's that one thing that keeps them comin' on back / just one thing keeps me comin' on back / on back...or at least, there really should be...else the whole shit just passes you by.
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