Larry Fink
[Photographer, b. 1941, Brooklyn, New York, lives in Martins Creek, Pennsylvania.]

 My picture-making process is not so much about making a photograph as it is about paying extreme attention to what I’m most attracted to, what is drawing my interest. For the most part, I’m hyperstimulated at all times; my life is a massive run-on sentence of stimulation. 
 [Photography is] the idea of the transformative merger between you and the person you are seeing, that you somehow try to enter their form, their skin, their mass, their muscle, and potentially, possibly, their soul. 
 The pictures I take now and tomorrow and yesterday are about human events on a small order. I try to make them bigger, to make them into metaphors that might speak across the board. 
 I’ve made a lot of fucking good pictures since I started. (Declining a request to select a few photographs that “epitomize his work.”) 
 I photograph because I live. I want to contribute that passion of living to posterity in the best way I can. 
 The pictures are taken in the spirit of finding myself in the other or finding the other in myself. (On his images published as Social Graces, made mainly at museum and gallery parties and similar high-end social functions.) 
 People like to have their pictures taken. Some will endure the pain of flash-blindness because recorded experience is somehow more important to them than actual experience. It is a profound aspect of our culture, this compulsion for proof. 
 The moment that we have is the only moment we will ever have, insofar as it is fleeting. Every breath counts. 
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