There is a skeleton inside you, waiting until you die so that it can be free.

There isn't enough space here to set down the rest of my thoughts. It's odd that a visual art form magnetically attracts unimaginative people with no visual sense. Awful semi-thinkers. I was like that once.

If your photostream has a bunch of snapshots of your life - that's great. You're alive. If it has a tonne of fantastic photos, again, great. Keep it up.

If you're in the middle, you depress me. You're a depressing reminder of how things might have been, and I don't want to smell your smell. If you're a spammer likewise. No way do you have 580,000 favourite photographs. I want nothing to do with you. I would not benefit from you, I will not lose a thing by losing you, I would not miss you if you went away.

Also, street photography. It's disgusting cold. Accept that you probably aren't any good at it. It's basically war photography without the war, and very few photographers can do that, and you aren't one of them. Neither am I, the difference is that I don't pretend to be.

On ModelMayhem, which is dismal

My Blog, which is splendid