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. 
 I’ve made a lot of fucking good pictures since I started. (Declining a request to select a few photographs that “epitomize his work.”) 
 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 photograph because I live. I want to contribute that passion of living to posterity in the best way I can. 
 I’m a scoundrel, really. But there’s something about me that remains rather innocent when I’m looking at people… Also, I’m always slightly nervous when I’m taking a picture, though I do it obsessively and without shame. People may sense that and relax, or at least not feel threatened. 
 I’m always aware of what’s holding my interest while I’m shooting, but I’m not analyzing my desires to the point of cooling things down—just to the point of understanding impulses as they come. 
 The photographs speak specifics, my words attempt to swallow a general flow. 
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