Several weeks ago I visited a new acquaintance to listen to his stereo (I’m somewhat of an over the top audiophile) and to look at some of his photographs made some fifty years ago.  The stereo sounded great but what really struck me were the wonderful images he had made. Some were framed on the wall, but most were confined to an old 8×10 Kodak Polycontrast paper box.

Here was a person that had real talent so what I saw and felt bothered me.

The pictures, made when he was in his twenties were sensitively seen and beautifully printed. It sounded like he had tried to make a go of it, but having a young family made that difficult. Like many his age he found a better way to make a living and stopped making photographs. I get that, but I can only imagine the work he might have produced had he continued on.

Sad.

I think he’s a few years younger than me, and still works like I do. He puts a lot of time and effort into his listening passion. So do I. I told him he should find some time to make images again; I didn’t care whether they were analog or digital. I just wanted him to get out there again and do what he’s capable of doing … for those that would be fortunate enough to see the work … but most of all for himself!

He’d lost all that precious time and missed the opportunity to create a meaningful body of work.

What could have been.

I think he could have found a way to keep photographing. I had to do the same thing. I know it’s difficult, yet possible. It’s a question of priorities like everything else in life.

Now it’s a question of what still could be.

I’ve told him several times that he should find the time and make pictures again. Easy for me to say, maybe not so easy for him to do … or want to do. I’ve offered to help, but I won’t bother him again.

He really wanted me to see his pictures. I guess that says something.

For all those of you with dusty old Polycontrast boxes underneath your bed, in the basement or the attic, go find them, take the old rubber bands off and have a good look at what’s inside. Once upon a time you really cared and had something you wanted to say. It’s not too late to finish what you started or say something new that matters … to you … to all of us.

Stay well,

Michael