"Perhaps the untailored self will never be photographable."


There is a certain beauty in the raw. Black coffee untainted by sugar. Barren Canadian landscapes in the morning. The log cabin inside which the profound saints Al Purdy, Henry Thoreau or Alexander Supertramp surely curl up. The slightly exposed breast of a drunk. Grit and callouses acquired from a chopped log thrown into a raising fire. Hand won meat and the chase. Hemingway. Colloquialism. Those memorable eavesdrops in a café regarding sex or some other personal matter. A mannerism you thought was yours alone. 


This project is the first step toward an accurate depiction of the nativist self: exposure of the bits and pieces we cannot escape, acceptance of the size and shape of our inherited genetic landscapes. However, as the experience is so foreign to a people so accustomed to concealing their “personals”, we cannot yet take the second step, which would be to have no emotional response to the camera. Perhaps the untailored self will never be photographable, but at least there are some who have found the snot dribbling down from a laughing child’s nose to be a picture of beauty rather than one of ugliness. 


And although I was aware of the camera, these photos are still the moments captured during a nude embrace with the human condition.











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