If you were to make a picture of Marin based only on the photos I post on the blog, you would find yourself in a world nearly devoid of people. It dawned on me the other day that just about every picture I take, if it’s not of food or the bike, is a landscape, whether natural or manmade, seemingly emptied of humans.
As if these pictures were meant to mark a journey in search of solitude. A way to carve private space from the commons, and in a public manner, both in the “real” world and online, in the form of blog posts. Or a way to watch, what else, but seeing.
It’s really not that complicated. The plain truth is that I never felt comfortable taking pictures of people, except of my children when they were young. I seem to get mesmerized by the intersection of lines and the play of shadows, not to mention the deceptive dance of colors in changing light.
So yes, my Marin, and the one I tend to share most often, is a stage of sorts where plots of geometry and caprices of light drive the action in search of a story.