Tyson Crosbie

Finished

I shoot on average about 500 images every year for this series. Between shooting and editing I lavish full time attention to walking in downtown Phoenix and documenting for three months. It starts slowly with the final image I shot last year as the aspiration for the first week or two. That soon evolves and becomes something of a variation, an evolutionary step beyond where I was last year. Then it starts to reflect who I am in the moment, a color palette and a theme also begin to take root. It grows into it’s own expression and then I work and obsess until I know it is finished.

So, how do I know when the series is finished for the year?

An evolutionary leap

Everything changes, there is a moment when there is a leap to something completely different, an “ah ha!” moment that breaks the rules and at the same time completes the story. This image was that moment for me this year and for two weeks next year I’ll get back in the groove seeking this idea.

How to participate

Buy a print of this image. Leave a comment on Flickr or Facebook. Follow me on Twitter and share your thoughts about the image below.

Win stuff!

Those that participate the most will win stuff! Up for grabs: a signed copy of Phoenix 22, a Tyson Crosbie Photography Tshirt (morse code), and several signed 5×8 prints.

Stories

In college I took the last offering of a class called Art Theory at Utah State University, it was taught by a mentor of mine, artist Marion Hyde. He was the first to introduce to me the idea of Organic Unity as applied to art. My favorite story about this class is something he showed the class early on. He presented an early work of Jackson Pollock on the slide projector, and proceeded to spend 20 minutes describing a very personal and seemingly relevant narrative to the forms in the painting. Introducing sentiment by playing on obvious and imaginary possibilities from the forms in the painting. It was very similar to finding meaning in clouds. As the big reveal he admitted to the class that none of what he said was true, he’d just made up the story off the top of his head. This is the great danger of abstraction, and what makes it so accessible and impossible at the same time.

Meaning

I finally get it. I think. Prior to this understanding, I used to be really concerned with the difficulty of translating what I’d meant through color and form alone. I was almost offended that I’d not made work good enough to transcend the obvious barrier between artist and audience. This experience I’d had early in my career would pound in my ears and I’d almost scream: THERE IS NO STORY! I saw the audience missing out on so much of the meaning of a work of art by reducing it to cloud watching. Now I understand. These stories are merely a filter to apply meaning to chaos, and it is perfectly okay.

Frankly I’m surprised it took me this long to have a realization like this. I’ve studied languages before and had the same experience from the other side. Sometimes when viewing new culture or experience from the outside we make compromises in order to make sense of the chaos. As Humans we need to empathize and connect in order to synthesize our experiences. Sometimes that means calling something light, round and quick a bunny. Even when it is obvious that NO bunny has ever graced this place.

So, what do you see?

How to participate

Buy a print of this image. Leave a comment on Flickr or Facebook. Follow me on Twitter and share your thoughts about the image below.

Win stuff!

Those that participate the most will win stuff! Up for grabs: a signed copy of Phoenix 22, a Tyson Crosbie Photography Tshirt (morse code), and several signed 5×8 prints.