Tuesday, 29 April 2003 | Pictures of people

Of course I'm not totally happy with the pictures I took on Sunday, but that would be impossible, probably, because the event itself was too comprehensive to be adequately reproduced as one-dimensional glossy pieces of paper. I met what felt like a thousand people*, people I might not normally talk to, and watched them laugh and blush and furrow and inquire and pose—regular people doing nothing more than going about their Sunday, irregular people doing nothing more than filling my Sunday. I met them one after another, like one giant run-on sentence, and I tied them together (however crudely) into a single unit: a project, a set of pictures, negative images rolled up inside a dark little canister.

*A woman leaning out of her window wearing large pink curlers A Hassidic Jew and two turban-wearing men brokering a deal in a warehouse Little black kids brightening their piece of sidewalk with pastel chalk Circus punks riding their self-built extra-tall flame-adorned bicycles A Japanese chef chopping sushi A homeless man selling soap and poetry for $3.00 Small business owners patiently leaning over counters Women perched under salon hair dryer helmets A large man with a whistle coaching kids on how to properly slap a volleyball over a net A girl taking her three-legged dog for a walk