Creating Calm

When I'm doing my best work it typically begins with being calm and quiet enough to allow my surroundings to speak and then responding in an intuitive way. Though not my only recipe for good photographs it certainly produces the highest percentage of keepers. It can also be an exercise in restraint and good practice for dealing with other challenges.  

Exposing the above image was a perfect example. Immediately after arriving in this tranquil autumn setting the construction crew widening the nearby road showed up. While their arrival didn't affect the scene visually the mood definitely changed and I struggled to compose a picture.

In moments like this I find it helpful to focus on my routine and not the freshly broken calm, so I looked to simple advice I've heard countless times over my 23 years of photography. "If you're having trouble composing; get higher, get lower, move closer, move farther away, or change lenses." I only had a 35mm lens with me and the tiny peninsula I was on restricted my ability to move around. An exposure from full height didn't feel right so I lowered the camera to a couple of feet off the ground and found a composition that worked.

The scene required a one second exposure at f11 which wasn't long enough to blur the occasional ripple disturbing the otherwise still waters of the lake. I prefer not to fool around with filters in extremely humid and misty conditions as keeping them from fogging can be quite difficult thus ND filters were not a good solution. A bit more patience was in order as I waited and tried to time my delayed shutter release plus the one second exposure in between the randomly occurring surface disruptions.  I feel remaining calm and sticking with it payed off in the end as the resulting picture embodies the serenity I experienced when I first arrived.

A Most Comfortable Field of View

For a number of years I had settled into a routine with my large and medium format equipment.  One wide angle lens, one normal lens, and one or two longer lenses.  All of fixed focal lengths as I've never gotten on with zoom lenses despite their obvious appeal and several attempts.  After transitioning to an all digital workflow in 2016 I assumed I would simply duplicate those lens choices and be on my way.

I'm not sure if it was the aspect ratio change from 4x5 to the longer 3x2 or simply a change of taste after nearly 20 years of photography but I was never quite happy with those lenses after the switch.  In "full frame" speak, which is what I use, a normal lens has a 50mm focal length or a 47 degree angle of view (on the diagonal).  My wide angle has a 24mm focal length or an 84 degree angle of view. And of course the longer focal length lenses have a much narrower angle of view which makes distant objects appear closer and the scene look more compressed.

I came to realize that there's quite a large gap between my 50mm and 24mm lenses. So I picked up an old Minolta 35mm lens which seemed to fit nicely in between them and my photography has not been the same since.  Suddenly the 50mm felt like a long lens and the 24mm looked rather wide.  I still use them both but that 35mm focal length felt just right to me.  Maybe not exactly what my eyes see but how they see.

My best description of the 35mm focal length with its 63 degree angle of view would be this: a telephoto wide angle. An oxymoron for sure yet precisely how it feels.  From longer distances it allows me to capture what appears to be a wide field of view without much distortion.  From middle distances the 35mm lets me pick out the most important details of a scene while still feeling natural.  And up close I'm able to include a bit of context while highlighting a specific subject.  A long wide angle or a wide long lens... Either way I approach it the lens simply provides a most comfortable field of view and lets me focus on visual relationships and light in a decidedly natural way.

I still have and use my other focal lengths but the 35mm is responsible for at least fifty percent of my keepers now.  And when I go out with only one camera and one lens, it's almost always one of my 35s.  That's right, I love it so much I have two; a small f2.8 pancake model, and a much larger f1.4 version for low light and shallow depth of field situations.  Part of me wishes I had found this goldilocks perspective earlier in my photography but finding it now has been quite exciting and reinvigorated my work in a way. So, I'll just be grateful for discovering it when I did.  Of course 35mm is one of the most popular lenses around so maybe "discovering" isn't quite accurate, but again, that's how it feels.

Knowing vs Understanding Choices

I have been working in darkrooms for almost 16 years and with a new found passion and motivation for over 9 years. During that time I have been influenced by many photographers, painters, musicians, writers... all sorts of people. I have gone through periods of emulating the printing style (and negative processing) of various photographers while trying to develop my own way of seeing. This, more than anything else I'd venture, has helped me learn the craft of photography (and the fact that I will never stop learning...)

For some time now I have observed and admired artists who work one "piece" at a time. That is to say that they come to each image, book, song, or painting anew. Yet in my own work I tend to worry about keeping things in line, wanting prints to match in color, texture and tone... considering my years spent experimenting with different styles it is probably needless to say that my body of work is NOT consistent in color, texture or tone.

So, while I've known that my photography does not need to be consistent in such ways and admired those who make individual works... it has still troubled me. Until recently. I'm in the midst of organizing and cataloging my negatives and prints and in so doing have been taking a trip backwards in time. And only through this process have I begun to understand that each new photograph presents its own unique set of challenges. And in order to solve those challenges we are faced with choices. It is what we choose that not only makes our work our own, but also, what makes each piece stand on its own. Limiting my choices for the sake of consistency will only serve to limit the scope and, ultimately, the evolution of my photography.

As I continue to sort through my archives and make decisions about what prints are acceptable and what prints are not, I now base those decisions solely on the merits of the photographs themselves. One at a time.

I also understand that this is personal and that there are those who impose limitations on themselves for artistic purposes. And that only through working within, and often times against, those constraints are they able to thrive.

But for me, there are more than enough limitations built into the process itself to struggle against.  This realization has been a long time coming and it is incredibly freeing.

Skunk Run Falls #1

I exposed this negative at about 7:30am July 4th, 2012. After hiking up the creek bed I came to this falls which is not listed on the map. I first found it on Flickr while researching some new to me areas of McConnells Mill. The water, which has been low this year, was up after a thunderstorm the night before. The weather was sunny and foggy at the same time but the dappled light had not yet made it into the ravine, which is probably 75 feet deep at this point in the run. The light was low but fairly even, I had to hold my breath under the dark cloth in order to keep the ground glass and my loupe from fogging.

I used a Toyo 45AII, Nikkor 90mm SW f4.5 and TMY2 (Tmax 400) rated at ISO 250. I metered the white water at the base of the falls, the water in the pool, the wet rock faces without flow at the bottom right and left of the falls and several of the black areas with my Pentax 1 degree spot meter to come up with my exposure. Indicated exposure was 8 seconds at f22, I added two seconds of reciprocity compensation per a list made by Lee Lumpkin  (which he compiled from Howard Bond's data). I suppose 2 seconds is negligible in this situation but I always error on the side of more exposure and thought an extra couple of seconds might help lengthen the white stripes in the wading pool a bit. I exposed two sheets of film as is my usual practice.

I have been experimenting with developing my 4x5 film in home made BTZS style tubes but instead of rolling them in water I use them upright as one would a 120 or 35mm stainless tank. I agitate for the first minute and then at the top of each minute thereafter. Agitation is by inversion. The tubes, when screwed together, hold double the amount of solution required to cover the film so each inversion causes all of the developer to leave the film and be replaced in a new position. Thus far development has been completely even, including the edges of the film.

I developed the first sheet for 15 minutes at 1:100. The shadows and midtones looked good but the white water was a little hotter than I wanted. For my second sheet I decided to increase the dilution to 1:140 to help tame the highlights and extend the development time 2 minutes to help keep the shadows up where I wanted them (all was done at 70degrees F). This negative looked great, the shadows had the same density as the first but the highlights had come down a nice amount. It was this second negative that I printed.

The print was made via contact on AGFA MCC 111 fiber paper using Ilford filters (grades 4, 5 and 1) over my old Nikkor diffusion enlarger with a 100mm lens projecting the light circle which just covers my 9x11 contact printing frame. I developed the print in PF 130 at 1:1 for two minutes. The print was then selenium toned with KRST at 1:100 for 2 minutes, this seemed to give the blacks just a bit more density.  My printing notes should be fairly clear to those familiar with MultiGrade printing techniques.  The F number refers to the aperture used and the G number to the filter grade.

Printing "Ice Form, Hell's Hollow Falls"

For those who have asked how much I manipulate my prints in the darkroom (and how I go about it) this example would be at the extreme end of the spectrum.  Or as Brett Weston would have put it, the negative was a real "bitch".  You can see a scan of the finished print HERE.  (Per requests I've added a picture of the mask I made to do some of the ice form burning.)

Two at TAG

Two of my photographs have been selected as a part of the 46th TAG Annual Juried Exhibition. The show begins Saturday August 14th with an opening reception from 7 to 9 pm at the Trumbull Art Gallery in Warren, Ohio. Normal business hours are Tuesday through Saturday Noon to 4 pm.

This year's juror was Mark Cole, Associate Curator of Sculpture and Painting at the Cleveland Museum of Art. Visit the TAG website, by clicking HERE, for more information.

The pictures selected were: "Reaching" - Shenango River Lake, Pennsylvania and "Roots" - Nelson Ledges State Park, Ohio. Both are 4x5 silver chloride contact prints.

Edit: "Roots" was awarded Honorable Mention. All other awards went to painters... =)

When Square can be a bit... Square.

As some of you have been kind enough to remind me =) I have neglected the website and this blog since late last fall. I have not, however, neglected my work. There are many new photographs to post and a good bit of writing as well.

My Little Things project has been my primary focus lately and we will begin again with that. Making these 2 1/4 contacts has proven to be a real challenge, due primarily to working with the new to me square format. As the shape of the picture space itself is neutral, it provides no real movement of it's own - no entry point, no release, no direction - that is left entirely to the artist. Over the last couple of years I have become comfortable with this, though as with anything else, I've discovered it's not always the best choice. Some visual elements simply cry out for a horizontal edge or a vertical gesture.

I was made even more aware of this a couple of weeks ago while looking through a stack of 'small prints' by Paula Chamlee. When photographs are printed at such a diminutive size the structure of the composition becomes more evident and, to my eyes, even more closely related to the borders. My next step seemed clear enough, it was time to start making small rectangular prints as well.

The above image is my first attempt. While texture is quite obviously the most important aspect, there is a gentle flow across the picture space which leads the eye from the top left to the bottom right corner and back again. This is made possible not only by the darker threads' relationships to each other, but also (and maybe even more so) through their interplay with the elongated top and bottom edges.

As an exercise, and partly to prove a point to myself, I have tried cropping the image to a square several different ways and with each attempt have found the result lacking in comparison to the original. I'll no doubt be viewing the ground glass a bit differently now and while my final decisions are largely intuitive I've also learned that once something is seen it is not so easily unseen.

And if you must know, it's light emanating through a lampshade.

Nelson Ledges, Ohio

9/19/09 Seven minutes into a twenty minute exposure. Nelson Ledges.
Gunshots permeate the air, overpowering the gentle gurgle of the waterfall disappearing down the deep stone ledges to my left. To my right a cross tied with a bouquet of week old flowers tells the story of someone's love and someone else's last hour. Mankind's shadow is cast wide over this place. Graffiti is rampant. I am unable to fathom how anyone could take a can of spray paint to these primeval walls... young... troubled... I can find no reasonable explanation for such a perversion of beauty. This ancient place of stone may seem immune to time but certainly is no match for fools.

If Tim Burton Carved a Pumkin...

...I thought it might look a bit like this. A couple of years ago I did some work shooting leaves on my light table with a single overhead light to keep things simple. The recent rain and the passing of the Equinox and subsequent diminishing daylight hours have driven me back inside. As most of my work is found in "nature" and arranged on the ground glass, being able to move the objects I'm photographing as well as the camera has been a bit overwhelming and exciting at the same time. Of course I can't help but wonder what Edward Weston might have come up with had he more than a funnel and window light to work with when he was stuck in the studio waiting for customers... Oh, if you're wondering what exactly this is...? It's a photograph!

Alright... it's my bike helmet.

Visual Bias

For some time now I have had a sort of visual bias against certain subject matter. Be it a waterfall, sunset or nautilus shell these subjects have been photographed again and again. At the same time I have held the belief that visual relationships in the context of my own personal experience is the real subject matter of my work. In other words, it doesn't matter what is photographed but how, when, and by whom it's photographed.

So, carrying this prejudice against cliched subject matter around with me not only conflicts with my most fundamental beliefs as an artist but also interferes with my ability to openly and honestly interpret the world around me. Photographically speaking, I aim to become an equal opportunity seeker of beauty and whether I'm focused on the fungus laden interior of a decaying stump or the powerful grace of a woodland falls, what's important is being open to the possibilities they each present. Both have been photographed before, but not in this moment, and never by me.

Tularosa, New Mexico

This photograph, from a Tularosa Cemetery, was my last on a March trip to Arizona and New Mexico. It was the 18th exposure I'd made with my 8x10 view camera that day and the second sheet of film in my final holder. While my traveling companions generously offered me use of their extras I was simply out of gas and ready to relax and enjoy my surroundings.

Later on we found our way to a hill top in the middle of the Tularosa Basin where the moment moved me to capture what I could, but this time with a pen and my trusty Moleskin.

3/10/09 Sometime in the late afternoon. Valley of Fires.
A young man plays his guitar and sings with quiet, brooding emotion as I look east from a perch atop the Tularosa Valley. Mount Carrizo looms large in the distance while the sun glistens off the snow shrouded peak of his big brother, Sierra Blanca. A soft breeze adds a slight chill to an otherwise warm and sunny day. The valley's yellow grasses come alive, blazing against the black lava strewn about me by some ancient event, still evident so many years later. Time has slowed to a crawl and troubles seem far away, nearly forgotten in the simple splendor of this moment. Sunshine and song reign supreme here. Even the yuccas pay homage, raising their many hands in worship and warmth. It's hard to imagine leaving this place... so many promises to keep.

Wanderings

“The artist's world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. It is always on his doorstep”. Paul Strand

This idea is central to my work and a constant source of inspiration as I explore the visual relationships of my immediate environment and their subsequent physical and emotional manifestations. After all, art is more than just something to be a sought, found and presented. Art is something we create from inside ourselves... and if we're diligent about the work it begins to flow out of us naturally, revealing layers of our subconscious we're simply unable to express any other way.

Yet sometimes it's just nice to blow the dust off and head out with nothing on our minds at all. To respond to new and exciting surroundings in a completely intuitive way. It's been a while since I've done that...

Time in a 3-Ring Binder

These exposures were made in McConnells Mills over the holidays and are among my last prints from 2008.

I've been keeping my negatives in plastic sleeves and 3 ring binders marked by year since 2004 and I can't help but think that as each year passes, so passes my opportunity to add to another set of binders.Each year's work becomes fixed in potential. With these thoughts comes the urge to try and make up time, to take one last shot at creating something from the passing cycle... Of course that cycle ends whether we're ready or not.

Thankfully, the new year brings with it another beginning. Unknown sights, discoveries and experiences await as well as a new binder, empty, yet full of possibility. Tonight I added my first group of negatives to it and printed 2009 on the spine in black marker. A wonderful feeling.

The "Little Things" Portfolio

While I'm just starting to make my final set of prints from Project Pond Scum on Michael Smith & Paula Chamlee's new silver chloride paper I'm also beginning a new series. I was fortunate enough to buy 1500 little sheets (2.5inches square) of vintage Kodak Azo silver chloride paper at a great price. I've fallen in love with having my new to me 6x6cm camera (tiny compared to my 8x10) on me most of the time and being ready to capture those little visual miracles we encounter so often if we're open to them. I've also fallen in the love with the way small contact prints draw the viewer in and the intimate nature of that experience. This particular photograph was exposed in the parking lot where I work... Unfortunately the tree shedding all the leaves was cut down a few days ago so this was the last such display I'll find when I park my car for the day.

This image is really a prime example of what I have in mind moving forward. I've decided to use the paper to create a portfolio called "Little Things", a reference to both the size of the prints as well as the subject matter. I'm more excited about my photography than ever and can't wait to see what else I discover on this journey. I'll be sure to post my ongoing results here as I did with my last series. I hope you enjoy viewing them, I sure love making them.

Little Squares

WARNING: there is a little equipment speak in this post... I promise it won't happen again!

If you're reading this you probably know I've been neglecting my blog for several months. My job has changed since February and I've gone from full time to consistent overtime. It's enjoyable but cuts into my free hours none the less. I make sure time for photography is at the top of my priority list so my writing fell victim... Tonight I'm setting a new precedent and giving up a little sleep instead as I feel this outlet is important enough to merit it.

I've also made another move to free up a little more time. I have been trading my 35mm equipment from the 70s (which has been made more valuable by it's compatibilty with current digital cameras) in on medium format equipment (which has been made less valuable by those same digital cameras). While I used the 35mm primarily at night, the larger size of the medium format negatives offers me the ability to make prints during the daylight that meet the high standards I've developed over the last 4 and half years of making 8x10 inch negs and contact prints. While I still prefer and use the big cameras I can now work in situations and time frames that I may otherwise have not...

I decided to go with a square format camera as both a means of expanding my compositional horizons and , quite simply, as a change of pace. Shape and size are not the only differences, I've also been exploring a look using subtle selective focus and softer, warmer tones. I've never been more excited about my work and look forward to using this new tool to caputure those fleeting moments that so often times escape me when armed only with my "Green Monster".

These accompanying images were exposed with the new camera last weekend at a gathering of artists near Cuyahoga Valley National Park (hosted by the ever so generous John Powers and his wife Dolly. THANK YOU!) It's a beautiful place I've managed to overlook for some time and can't recommend it enough if you live nearby.

New Special Edition Print: Mill Street Bridge

My newest Special Edition Print offering was made on Memorial Day in downtown New Castle, PA. I spent the morning with a friend photographing along Slippery Rock Creek and ended up near the town square on the way home. While waiting for Scott to make an exposure I began wandering around the back alleys and found my way to a parking area next to the river. I'd never really noticed the odd relationship between the Old Mill Street Bridge and the buildings on the far shore before. The river runs underneath the bridge at an angle allowing the old department store to sit just behind the iron framework and creating a rather unusual perspective. I made two negatives, one from farther back incorporating a windblown tree into the composition but I ultimately preferred this closer interpretation... Especially the position of the 'black' and 'BINGO' windows and they way the T in brother is replaced by a giant 'T' created by the ironwork. Prints will be available for a short time at the reduced price of $50. If you've ever wanted to see or own an 8x10 contact print, this is one of my finer examples from a technical standpoint and one of my favorite compositions of the moment. You can find out more information by visiting my website.

Pond Scum at The Butler

Three photographs from Project Pond Scum, #46, #56 and #64 have been juried into the 72nd National Midyear Exhibition at the Butler Museum of American Art in Yountstown, OH. This year's juror is New York based realist painter Don Eddy. The exhibition begins with a reception Sundy July 13, 2008 from 1 to 3pm and runs through Aug 24.

Night in Day

A friend and I traveled to Connecticut last weekend to visit a group of fellow photographers and, of course, make some images. On Saturday during a lighting workshop in an abandoned opera house (artificial lighting and portraits in general aren't my thing...) I spent time wandering around some long empty offices downstairs. There was an incredible sense of time and a haunting light about the place which would have kept me busy for hours had I not walked into one room in particular. The office in question was empty save for a solitary broom and a smattering of paint chips which had peeled off the wall and were strewn about the floor. The floor itself was some sort of hardwood that had been scratched and stained by god knows what over the years. Somehow this combination of elements came together in a way that transcended the objects themselves and, upon closer inspection, resembled images of deep space which have captivated me since I was a boy. Exploring on the ground glass I discovered everything from giant nebulae to the chaotic mess of our own Milky Way.

Now that the negatives are developed and printed I can clearly see a progression from the more celestial photographs in my Pond Scum series and can't help but feel I've made not only a connection with that work but taken a step forward. Five years ago I never would have have traveled 12 hours only to photograph a dirty floor and now I couldn't be more thankful that I did just that. I'm also quite thankful that whoever leaned the broom against the wall never finished the job.

More Scum... and Project Basho

Getting close to having everything worthwhile proofed. Here are a few from a printing session today... Project Basho has posted the images from their "Onward '08" show in an online gallery. If you didn't make the exhibit in person you can have a look HERE.

Rail and Bridges or A Bicycle Rode Through It

Enthusiasm for my newest work, made last week, has directed my attention away from Project Pond Scum... for the moment. This exposure was made along the Susquehanna River in Harrisburg on my way to the Onward '08 show at Project Basho. I had spent the night in a hotel a couple of miles away and woke up to rain and overcast skies. I made the best of the morning by visiting the local art museum, grabbing coffee and an apple scone at Starbucks, and photographing in a large 150 year old church downtown. I was lucky enough to be there while the organist was rehearsing, making two 9 minute exposures most enjoyable.

After observing the sun beginning to stream through the lovely and numerous stained glass windows I resolved to venture out. I made my way to the car and loaded my equipment with plans to drive to City Island. I decided I may as well take a look around the nearby riverfront area while I was there and walked about 50feet before noticing this incredibly still pool of water submerging the observation platform across the street. My view was from a far less interesting angle but I was already taken. I hurried back to grab my gear and returned to explore with the camera as quickly as I could, the sun was peeking through the clouds and rapidly burning moisture from the hazy afternoon air.

While I worked in the busy downtown area several people walked by, all avoiding the puddle. I couldn't help but wonder if they recognized what I did, or at least what I was trying to photograph, and took care not to disturb it... or whether they simply didn't want to get their feet wet. I was able to make two exposures long enough to smooth the glistening river before the sun permanently altered the scene. Still invigorated by this magical moment I hesitated to take down the camera. Moments later a bicyclist rode directly though the middle of the puddle, answering my question and motivating me to pack up. The resulting print fulfills all my expectations and further reflects my feelings for the ephemeral beauty we encounter everyday.

Starbucks Tour '08

I'm back from several days on the PA highway system, traveling primarily to attend the opening reception of the Project Basho: Onward '08 show in Philadelphia. The place was packed and the space looked great. I was impressed with the diversity of work selected by the juror, Andrea Modica; the hard work of Tsuyoshi Ito and company for putting everything together; and most of all the gorgeous weather!

My print was well placed and allowed the viewer to get his or her nose right on it as I intend. The work is scheduled to hang through February so if you're in the area I highly recommend stopping by for a look (and grabbing a few pints of Sly Dog Dry Stout at the Standard Tap a couple of blocks away).

For two days before the show I was able to spend time photographing in the riverfront area of downtown Harrisburg and will be posting some of the results in the near future. Rain forced me inside for a morning which I put to full advantage working in the 150 year old Presbyterian Church on Pine Street. Later that afternoon I was given the gift of sunlight which immediately began burning off the haze and I made several exposures along the river and City Island.

I was lucky to return with more than exposed film. I picked up a wonderful hand made print box from my buddy Joe Freeman when we met at the event in Philly. I gave him his choice of the prints I had brought with me and felt like I was stealing! It sure beats the hell out of carrying them haphazardly in the back of my car and offers considerably more protection.

I also picked up my copy of the new Brett Weston Portfolio series being published by Lodima Press from my friend Richard Boutwell. He was kind enough to show me around his area of Bucks County and we were able to photograph for a few hours in some wonderful light before I started the drive back and my race to beat Sunday night's snowstorm through the Poconos. I didn't but the roads were quite passable, at least until I made it home.

Friends and family had loaded me up with Starbucks' gift cards over the holidays so I fueled myself with coffee practically nonstop. The chain seems ubiquitous in Harrisburg and isn't far behind on the toll road to Philly. I needed the extra caffeine as I decided to bring only my 8x10 camera after a summer spent working primarily with the 4x5. I'd forgotten how freeing it is to compose a photograph on the large ground glass as well as how heavy my big ass tripod is! No complaining though, I've already developed two of the large negatives and can't wait to get printing...

New Special Edition Print: Hanging Tree

This exposure was made back in May of 2006 and for whatever reason I had not gotten around to printing it. The negative proved to be a good candidate for split grade printing and I was able to pull the tones I was looking for. The tree seems to share them with the stone... blending into one another in a second, purely visual way. I remember making the negative one morning in McConnells Mill State Park and being impressed with the display of graceful tenacity.

The contact print is approximately 4x5 inches; mounted and over mated with white, 4ply, 8x10 inch Alpharag Artcare museum board; signed and numbered on the front; stamped, dated and titled on the verso. The silver gelatin print is toned lightly in selenium and available for a limited time at the reduced price of $50. See my website for more info.

50 years ago today...

Photography lost one of it's brightest lights, Edward Weston. His photographs and Daybooks have been an inspiration to myself and countless others.

"It is classic, completely satisfying -- a pepper -- but more than a pepper: abstract, in that it is completely outside subject matter. it has no psychological attributes, no human emotions are aroused, this new pepper takes one beyond the world we know in the conscious mind. To be sure much of my work has this quality, many of my last year's peppers, but this one, and in fact all the new ones, take one into an inner reality -- the absolute --with clear understanding, a mystic revealment. This is the "significant presentation" that I mean, the presentation through one's intuitive self, seeing 'through one's eyes, not with them;' the visionary." EW 1930

"I never try to limit myself by theories. I do not question right or wrong approach when I am interested or amazed -- compelled to work. I do not fear logic, I dare to be irrational, or really never consider whether I am or not. This keeps me fluid, open to fresh impulse, free from formulae -- the public who know my work is often surprised, the critics, who all, or most of them, have their pet formula are disturbed, and my friends distressed." EW 1932

"I am the adventurer on a voyage of discovery, ready to receive fresh impressions, eager for fresh horizons, not in the spirit of a militant conquerer to impose myself or my ideas, but to identify myself in, and unify with, whatever I am able to recognize as significantly part of me: the 'me' of universal rhythms." EW 1932