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pyronautica:
HAHAHA! That was so much fun!!
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The dream of the captured image, the moment locked in a stasis of forever, decaying day by day as the chemicals break down and the treated paper oxidizes and wrinkles and crumbles to powder. But for that brief moment of forever, the image persists to remind and stand for something. It is that moment, it is that flicker caught and bound by a process, emulsified. It is how light captures a scene, it is how the eye renders light hitting the paper, glossy and sticky. It is an illusion of the past. It is a perspective that the memory can relate to, one it can correspond to, but all that doesnt make it any less alien. A photograph is another set of eyes, looking through a machine, an instrument of one-eyed perception, capturing light in a prison of devalued dimensions. Just another way of seeing the world, yet one that is considered absolute because of process and reliability. If cameras had hazy recollections and image value associations like people do, if their emotions shaded how they saw the world, the machines might possess value as artists themselves.