A true photographer is a humble one. Their ego dissolved into the image. Their life force lives in the photograph so that the photograph can live. Maybe some of our greatest photographers have been anonymous. Is it the case that maybe the less there is of the artist, the greater the art?
Just as we live in photography, it lives in us; maybe it is the case that photography finds us and not the other way around. For those who use it to enhance themselves, for applause and their own fame and glory, could leave it at any time.
For those who photography finds, must give him or herself to it, merge with it, then it is the photograph that becomes truly great. For these people they can never leave photography, they may want to sometimes but it is impossible. It is as much a part of them as the blood flowing in their veins. Something to be shared and something to grow like a beautiful sunflower reaching for the sun.
The two images above are from my collection of found images, the photographers are not known.
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