SKY STREET

Once upon a time, forty years ago, I rented a one bedroom apartment within one of long rows of brick houses, all stitched along sidewalks undulating from the root surge driven by rows of huge trees, the asphalt wrinkled as only an old skin operated upon at will could still 'stay' together;

I knew the whole area about to be simply bulldozed over, and I would roam on foot, taking photographs of anything I felt for, just like that, no aim, no sanctimonious spirit, just a street dog reading the signs and shooting them up;

There are thousands of those, spread out into my personal archives, from 8x10 sheet film down to 35 mil sampling;

Now, if one has ever 'seen' an 8x10 view camera standing in a back alley, he/she knows for sure that this thing is not going to run away, na!, no way, so all them denizens, kids on the make, bike riders, grouchy fathers, harried mothers, all feel secure because there is no need to scare the thing out of there, if only because it looks so weirdly big,...