MY FELLOW AMERICANS
These pictures began one cold January night in Boston, in 1976, and persisted through the 80s and the Reagan presidency. I simultaneously feel deeply at home in this country and like a perpetual visitor to a strange and bizarre land. My best pictures occur when I find some truth of my own that connects with a reality that I see in the world. These pictures did not come from careful calculation; they are as close to dreams as to journalism.