My photographic display consists of map tacks holding prints to the sheetrock
walls along the hall leading to my bathroom, in what once was my office (now
denominated "the playroom"), and in what formerly was the spare guest bedroom,
now known as the gun and camera room. (I just realized last week when doing an
insurance inventory that I now have more cameras than guns. I'll fix that soon,
unless the E-3 comes out before I can get to Ed's Guns.)
Guess I'm just a hack, because I haven't taken a photograph in 30 years or more
that I felt deserved matting and framing, and certainly not under glass. I
stick 'em up with map tacks in the corners, get tired of 'em after six or eight
months, take 'em down and replace 'em with more better ones. The same map tacks
have been on the walls much longer than any print I've made since I grew up. I
repaint the walls every few years to cover up the tack holes, and I have no
doubt that I'm doing this because I'm just taking better photographs with each
passing day.
Or maybe it's the mad cow stuff getting worse and I don't know what the hell
I'm doing -- or talking about.
--
"Anything more than 500 yards from
the car just isn't photogenic." --
Edward Weston
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