In 1993 I began sharing loft space in a building on W. 28th St. in New York, banks of windows on two sides. Reasons for and against were even; and ultimately I decided that the regret of not trying something was worse than remorse for acting out of confidence. I learned a lot, but it was a mistake. I took more and better photos on locations, on the street or at parties. The room’s southern exposure was all wrong, harsh and uneven, and not nearly enough sky was visible from its third floor elevation.
I made a lot of 4×5 film tests which came out nicely, some shown here, using subjects purchased from the nearby flower district. And I did take a few good portraits, but not nearly enough to justify the whole effort, and the necessary process of showing my work around town wore me right down. It was, all in all, an unhappy and trying period which ended in early autumn ’94 after most of my equipment was stolen one afternoon while I was uptown showing my book to an art director. I was insured for most of it but enough was enough.