Throughout my photographic and literary life, I have striven to be creative. Much of the time it ends up derivative and incomplete. That’s part of a genuinely creative process, I guess. I thought about this today as I searched some old negatives for an image, and found these attempts at expressing some kind of inner strife, longing, depth, arousal, whatever. I was about 24 when I made these images, and while they were unbelievably lame failures, at least I was trying.
Sidebar: I was in a relationship at the time I made these photos, and for years after it ended, I kept asking myself, “Where did I go wrong?” But the truth is that she and I were both young, and we both made a ton of the kinds of relationship mistakes that young people make.