William Wegman
[Artist, b. 1943, Holyoke, Massachusetts, lives in New York.]

 I just imagined you were a camera. 
 As soon as I got funny, I killed any majestic intentions in my work. 
 I get so confused about life photography art. 
 When I first started making photo pieces it wasn’t with the idea of a commitment to the medium. I didn’t think I would have to become a photographer to make my photographs. I recall that anything could be used as material for art in that era. Photography was just one more thing. 
 Photography as a subject is a good one. Its history is only about 150 years... You only have to know about twenty-five or thirty names and that’s it. All you need. In painting there are more than 1,000. 
 I was born on a tiny cot in southwestern Massachusetts during World War II. A sickly child, I turned to photography to overcome my loneliness and isolation. 
 In 1978 I decided not to work with Man Ray as an act of self-discipline. I didn’t want to rely on him. Man Ray hated not working, though. He would come into my studio, see me drawing or working on photographs, and just slump down at my feet with a big sigh. Fortunately for both of us the year ended. Polaroid had invented a new camera, the twenty-by-twenty-four, and I was invited to Cambridge, Mass., to experiment with it. Naturally, I took Man Ray and we were working again. 
 I was working with mud and photographs and thread, eyelashes, carrots and acetone... I was throwing radios off of buildings and ... I remember floating styrofoam commas down the Milwaukee River. 
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