february 8, 2022
The only thing I really miss about living in Reno is the ease that I could go out on a cold February night, like one of these we have right now, and enjoy a city staged just for me. Reno is a gamblin' town; the major airport (RNO) is "Reno-Tahoe International Airport", so in the winter, the vacationers come primarily for Lake Tahoe and its medley of winter sports, rather than Reno and its nightlife/casinos.
As a result, Reno was uniquely conducive to my style of uninhabited night photography in the winter. No one was out walking when it was 25 degrees, and the few that were definitely didn't care to bother the 6'1" dyke in the Soviet surplus trenchcoat and beat-up Doc Martens. It lent itself to being a dispassionate observer quite well, because I felt so removed from what little activity was happening in the city I might as well have not been there.
I've been reading a lot about various famous photographers and their mindsets, because I feel like I'm finally at the psychological stage of photography - why do I shoot what I do, what goes through my mind when I pick up a camera - and I am slowly realizing that I enjoy non-existence as a photographer. Despite my limelight-seeking writing behavior, I want my photos to feel as if they almost just happened, rather than allowing you to imagine me behind the lens. Every component of a shot like this is dissociated from the people that built it; it's up to you to reconstruct the meaning.
(it's worth noting when I took this shot, my hormone levels were super-messed-up, and I was actually deeply dissociated for the first time in years. so much for "my trauma doesn't make good art.")
