Pinholes
Each of these photographs is the product of a 30 minute to 8 hour exposure onto a single sheet of large format film in a handmade pinhole camera. I use a variety of models, from a box camera to one I made from a pocketbook to one I converted from an eyeglass case. In all situations, my camera is not recognizable as such. It doubles as both fashion accessory and my disguised tool of surveillance.
I bring these cameras into private and semi-private domains: hotel rooms, bathrooms, nightclubs, restaurants, bedrooms. I use them as diaries -- to describe my experiences -- but in real time. I am interested in the conflation of titillation and banality, intimacy and absence that result in these time exposures.
In the end, these diary entries give little to no factual evidence of events or emotions that transpired. The more movement that occurs, the less the moving things or people register on film. The people in these pictures have little or no identifiable traits, only hints. As often in memory, the details of life being recorded leave little to no trace of their existence. Fact and fantasy become intertwined, as do the surveyor and the surveyed.