Art is about choices. And no matter the type of art - be it a photograph, be it a film, or what have you - as viewers, we are only given liberty to rely on the final collection of decisions that are ultimately put before us that have been made from those choices. No explanation to assuage our uneasiness; no excuses to give the creator a second chance. But no true artist ever makes a single mistake, as even the so-called missteps are a reflection of who they are, both in terms of the tools at their disposal and the measure of their soul. The irony is that I am in the business of art, and it is the business that puts demands on my art beyond self-reflection. Or does it? We live in a nation of consumers with a niche mentality: people may most naturally gravitate towards the familiar but they are more than game for something new and unique as long as it is presented in a way that pleases them. I do not consider myself to be a traditional photographer, and that is great news. My work is as unique as my soul - a love for the cinematic, a draw towards moments and expressions that either ask questions or clearly say a multitude of antithetical things, and an empathy for individuals - so I have few worries. The challenge is ensuring that people do indeed see the real me in my work - or at the very least, see themselves - and that requires a constant assessment of the ever-changing complexities of my own soul and that of the world.
But isn't this kind of irony, this business-art duality, an example of the very definition of Crimson Fox? That dance we all play between apparently unlike things..that there isn't even a whisper of anything in this life of ours that is one-dimensional, or single-faceted? Duality: such as a mother so proud to see her only daughter get married but is frightened that this is yet another sign that her baby is all grown up...or like when Iron Man screenwriter Mark Fergus said, "Writers are egomaniacs with low self esteem," ...what a beautiful oxymoron, as many artists, both screenwriters and photographers included, are confident that who they are is interesting - the trouble is that we speak a different language than most people yet we long for you to know and appreciate, truthfully, in all facets of us, who we are.As a photographer, I capture the moments I do the way that I do because who I am inside observes life uniquely. I let life happen and capture its essence for all that it is worth; posing is neither my forte nor my passion, as at most, I guide or kick-start activity then watch it move. I rest in place for sometimes minutes at a time, previsualizing, waiting for that rich image to appear before my eyes. Sometimes that previsualization is realized, sometimes it isn't...and sometimes, realistically, I must compromise and take the shot that's only halfway there. In such latter cases, I make no qualms...because the richness that I shoot for goes for those aforementioned questions - that "multitude of antithetical things." For me to expect every moment that appears before me to be an exact mirror of what I see inside of myself at that moment would leave me with nothing left to explore, hence self-reflection would be a rather irrelevant task.
Since I started Crimson Fox Photography, and most recently my foxprints line of signature wall art, my mission has been to capture and preserve life's moments in a manner that tells their full breadth of candor, story and emotion. To do this, I have to balance being true to you, true to the viewer, and, most importantly, true to myself. In Spring 2010, Crimson Fox will be reborn into a being unlike anything currently executed by any other Photography business that I know, and still, I have few worries. I worry not because its execution will be a reflection of my unique and interesting soul - an unclonable niche because no one can see the synergy of unlike things that I can see inside of myself and myself alone.Truthfully, some of this interdependence - that elusive "Crimson Fox"-iness - I can not see clearly, but that is okay...because it is the exploration that matters...and sometimes exploration of the antithetical can be the very thing that opens doors of unchartered synergy. There's no guarantee, but in this life, we have to try. It is only when we assume and prematurely decide regarding the incompatibility of unlike things that we fail to do what we, as artists, are meant to do: I choose to create.
