Staring at the Shoreline

All these images are by Stephen Shore, a new visual hero of mine.





Michael and Sandy, Amarillo Texas, 1974

Staring down as we came into land, I tried reminding myself to use my time here wisely, lest I get stuck for good: I must not fall into old patterns, wallowing in nervous habits. No, none of the old aimless walks, or pining in the same small cafes. Focus on the City as its own salvation (museums, cinemas, bookshops, galleries). Send your resume out everywhere you can think of. Get out and network. Embrace public transport like a lifeline. And, most of all, read your little heart out, read as if your life depended on it. The plane had just tilted towards the west and I could see the sun setting over the peninsula, spilling coppery light down the nearest suburban slopes. Western light, pioneer light. The same gauzy saturation you get in old photographs by Stephen Shore.