IX The Gaze
On attention, framing, and seeing
There are many ways
to appear in an image.
The most common
is to be seen.
I chose another.
To look.
In my photographs,
my face disappears.
The camera stands
where the face would be.
The lens interrupts
the image.
What remains visible
is not expression.
But direction.
The photograph does not ask
who I am.
It asks
where I am looking.
The camera
is not concealment.
It is position.
A place
from which the image is made.
It felt correct
to stand behind the lens.
Observation came first.
Before explanation.
Before voice.
In the kitchen,
ingredients are studied
before they change.
In writing,
language is watched
before it is trusted.
In life,
people are observed
before they are believed.
The camera reveals
the same habit.
It does not remove me
from the image.
It shows
where I stand.
Not inside the frame.
But at its origin.
Over time,
the lens changes meaning.
It becomes attention.
To choose where to look
is to choose
what becomes visible.
Cooking does this.
So does writing.
So does singing.
Each begins
in the same place:
attention.
The camera remained.
Not as protection.
As position.