Worcester a.k.a The Heart of the Commonwealth a.k.a Medicority Incarnate

I've decided upon a theme for this semester. I call it "Structure and Caricature", because everyone is afforded their 15 minutes of pretentiousness. Its in the 8th amendment. I feel very strongly about the concept of this project. I can almost envision what a successful picture would look like in this context. Almost.

I first had this as a fleeting thought that I gave no real weight. Creatively, Worcester is a motherfucking nightmare, especially to someone who has 22 years of desensitizing citizenship under his belt. The idea took shape like all of my ideas do: I first decided what I disliked. I disliked the idea of doing street photography because invariably it becomes a muddled mess of nutballs, nutcases, nincompoops, wanksters, hicks, and douche bags, And though I wanted to do a study of Worcesterites discounting the aforementioned categories leaves me painfully little to work with. I also didn't want to shoot solely inanimate objects such as duplexes, triple deckers, decrepit abandoned buildings, etc. But I want to incorporate the architecture and, dare I say, the layout of Worcester's neighborhoods. Then I realized that Worcester folk are nothing without their background just as Worcester structures are nothing with out Worcester folk. Thus I have aspired to mesh the two in a semi-palatable manner. Good luck to me.

The other day, as I posted up illegally at the spot, I came across a tome of M.C. Escher's works. The pages illuminated the process he took to finally conceive the images that made him famous. At times he worked intensely on mundane geometrical patterns to understand their place within the grander scheme. Other times he did case studies on reflection, perspective, and other natural details. His methodology paid off in spades. Looking at just one of his most famous pieces, one can see how the independently, intensely researched factors became a unified thought and finally a fully realized product.

Looking through the book I discovered the perfect way to bullshit an excuse for my crap-ass photos. Extremely pleased with myself, I repeated my story over and over until, all of a sudden, I had a revelation. I don't need M.C. Escher to pad my bullshit. I can do that all on my own. Its a gift and a curse really, but mostly a gift. My mother always said I was gifted. But thats neither here nor there.

So I took a cruise. Kanye West is fond of saying "Drive Slow, Homie", and I like his sunglasses so I decided to give it a shot. I saw an intense amount of color in Worcester which varied by neighborhood and which was as distinct as the architecture itself. I envisioned using Worcester as a palate to paint a picture of life in this mediocre city. So I groped my camera (don't worry we have that type of relationship) and said "Composition be damned" hoping that the simple act of recording these colors and their juxtaposition would push me in a new direction. It hasn't worked yet but I'm beginning to tingle with confidence. Hopefully, I will be able to systematically turn bullshit into gold. I believe that deserves a Nobel Prize or something.

The next step is to find the characters that tell the story and then to mesh it all together. We shall see where this goes...