This photograph is always sort of near by, so to speak. I know exactly where it is on my computer and where it is in my photo album; and when I feel bad I look at it for maybe a minute or maybe ten. This image was taken while walking the streets of New York on some lackadaisical day that I spent just wandering around. I saw him on the other side of the street and watched for a few minutes. I crossed and found “the spot” to take the photograph. He never noticed me, he never looked up from the garbage can and he never lost focus of finding something to eat. 

I waited for that Henri Cartier-Bresson moment and I took just one photograph only when he picked up the half eaten sandwich. I felt guilty about that. I was invading his privacy which consisted of the privacy he had in his mind and his spirit. He lived on the streets of New York so the only privacy he had in any way was in his mind. I also felt like I was stepping on his pride. That may not be obvious, but who among us could search through the garbage for food and no matter how hungry we were not feel embarrassed and a loss of pride? It is only human nature and I knew damn well he was once a proud man and I was infringing on his personal space.

There are moments when I feel like “ohh, woe is me” and when will the crap end and the good times begin. It’s been that way for me recently. As a working artist it is not always easy. There is no paycheck to rely on and many more moments of uncertainty than certainty.  As an artist I also have moments of insecurity and personalizing things that may have absolutely nothing to do with me, but that is my nature. I so wish I could stop doing that. They have drugs for absolutely every ailment on the planet and no man will have to suffer from a lack of erection, thanks to that little blue pill, but I have yet to find a drug for insecurity which everyone suffers from now and again. Well, alcohol could do the job but I think you know what I mean. 

So when the blues hit I remember this photograph and I take a moment to find it and remember the moment I took it. I remember his movements which were slow and his actions which were deliberate and methodical. He had nothing but the raggedy clothes on his back and found food in the trash but he did what he had to do to stay alive. That is why I look at this photograph because when I have the blues hit me I remember this man. I have so much more than he does and I have the ability to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly. I don’t have everything I want and I don’t have the ability to go and buy the car of my dreams but I’m healthy and have clean clothes and food in the refrigerator. 

Life can always be worse for most of us and sometimes a good cry or a moment of sadness can help clear out the crap and let the fun begin again.