I like to be as inconspicuous as possible when photographing anything. There’s this sense of wanting to blend in to the surroundings and let it happen. What it is – that’s hard to explain, but you get this expectation of some kind of event that’s about to happen. Something produces an image for you, and it must be kind of innocent or happenstance and simultaneously atypical or important. It’s the difference between time and place being unnecessary or even unnoticeable and then, for a moment, relevant.
People have a way of doing that. This little boy wasn’t actually photographing me. I think he was fooling around with his parent’s phone attempting to make a panorama of Union Station’s great hall. If you got him just right, however, he draws you into the room. I’m not sure he even noticed me, but the end result is his posture almost welcoming the eye into the frame in a way that it can now bounce around the room and digest all that is going on. Otherwise, it’s all just clutter. Then that group of police officers came rolling in (right corner of the room) and was time to say goodbye. Not that they’d notice me either, but why wait to allow them?
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