Monodrift: Volume One, but achieve the coveted Staffer's Choice recognition for producing a photo book chock full of deliciously wonderful images. His accomplishment is one I've often hoped to achieve myself (the production of a book, anyway, not necessarily the exclusive recognition, although that would certainly be nice). I find myself in a weird place of admiration for his dedication and talent, respect for his drive to push forward with it in face of the costs associated and insane jealousy that he managed to beat me to the chase and produced a book before I could. But as another good friend always told me, jealousy is the ultimate expression of flattery to the successful. And sure enough, Jake deserves it.
Before my accident, while in the process of acquiring my studio, I had it in mind to produce a photo book of my own, but aside from straightforward display of images I had planned on a strong literary element to pair with them. Other photo books on the topic of abandoned and decaying Western architecture have traditionally concerned themselves with building history, detailing in fine detail the progress of their function's decline into vacancy. Myself, I've never been too overly concerned with the history of the buildings I've photographed. Much like Jake, my interest is heavily geared to the aesthetic of decay. In the greater picture of photography as a hobby overall, however, my focus leans heavily on the experience behind the capture of the image. As such, my original plan back in April was to produce a photo book with short, frankly written yet eccentric and stylistic descriptions of the experience behind each image.
In other news, I ordered that 45mm f/1.8 Olympus recently released. Excited about it showing up at my door and putting it to good use. Right now this whole photo book thing is dominating my thoughts, however.