Here’s a sampling of 5 shots taken sometime around the summer of 1977, shortly before my 19th birthday, when I’d finally left home for good, at least mentally. It’s interesting to see how these faded shots reflect both who I am now as a photographer and the difference in perspective. I’d been born to be a photojournalist, but in the era of civil-rights-borne demands that I be the next Great Black Hope, no one had ever suggested, much less encouraged I chase what I loved instead of what I “should” do. So, with no real direction in mind, I’d wander with my camera taking meaningless, inartistic shots that still interested me more than anything I was learning in the University.
I suppose I can credit college with that, can’t I?