Robert Longo was a hot artist the year I graduated from college, with
a show called something like “Dream Jumbo: Working the Absolute” that
included an art exhibit at LACMA and a show at UCLA. We bought
tickets and went and it was great. We copied the idea of jumping
people, not painting them quite so large, but capturing the movements
and shadows nonetheless.
A year later I was in Europe, doing the backpack Eurail thing. I had
worked for a year and saved up a little money, enough to buy a used
Minolta. Once I got into the groove of traveling, life pretty much
revolved around looking for Romanesque churches, finding cheap hotels,
and strategically choosing night trains between cities.
I went to Europe with many rolls of film, some negative, some black
and white, but mostly slides. I shot all of it, and eventually had to
buy more. To guard against disaster, I would occasionally spot a deal
at a shop and would develop a batch of exposed rolls.
My past self is envious of my current self, with digital cameras not
needing the bag full of film canisters. Then I shot and shared my
images with close friends and family; now I can shoot and post to the
internet to theoretically share with everybody. I can “develop”
pictures on my laptop, and even shoot movies with my camera.
My current self is envious of my past self, with no responsibilities
except to myself, able to go wherever and do whatever. I took
pictures, went to museums, and looked at old architecture. I played
harmonica in between cars on night trains. I watched my bank account
drain down, and got a cash advance on my credit card.
I haven’t heard anything about Robert Longo in years. He may still be
doing stuff, but I don’t care, and he’s certainly not as hot as he
once was. I take a lot more photographs now, but I don’t draw nearly
as much and I haven’t aspired to be an artist in years.