Rummaged through some old photographs today at a sale.
I limited myself to 4 photos/ .25 ea -- circa 1920s to 1940s
Thought there was something sort of beautiful about these photos in particular:
subjects, lighting, composition...I'm not quite sure, just some lovely shots to inspire.
Looking through antique and vintage photographs is always bittersweet. I love the glimpse it allows into the lives of people before me but there is also something unsettling about it...voyeuristic maybe? --That I know the photographs weren't created with the intent to be on display for sale in a mixed and nameless heap. It's a strange idea that our things outlive us. -- I've recently thought about writing a series of bound journal entries in the form of a one-way correspondence to a future reader.