You Don't See Me

You Don't See Me is, in part, my response having my entire prior photo career take place within the confines of photography classes. My work tends to be very vulnerable, and there is a certain frustration that comes with bearing one's soul for a grade. Simultaneously, there is an falsehood in this feeling. Yes, my work is vulnerable; I invite the viewer to look through my eyes, see the people I love as I see them, invite them to read letters of devotion that share more than one might expect. However, no matter how open and vulnerable a work seems, what you see is always strictly controlled by the photographer. You will never see something that I do not explicitly feel comfortable with you seeing.

I've also previously toyed with the idea of doing something involving the tactile and fragile nature of film. Film needs to be handled with some amount of care, maintained throughout every step of the photography process, lest you ruin a photo forever.

Thus, this project was conceived. The images in this series are vulnerable. Many are of my own naked body in compromising or intimate positions. But you will never see the photo in its entirety. The unmarred versions of these photos were never scanned; all the remains are grainy negatives that have been scratched, cut, stained, licked, folded, scribbled on, burned, basically destroyed. You may feel as though you see me, but you don't. You only see what I let you.