[The photographer's task] is to describe the existing light... Chances are, if you believe the light, you're going to believe that the things photographed existed in the world.

Most musicians I know don't just play music on Saturday night. They play music every day. They are always fiddling around, letting the notes lead them from one place to another. Taking still photographs is like that. It is a generative process. It pulls you along.

I don't go out looking for pictures. I go out, and if something catches my eye, that's reason enough to photograph it.

If you let some time go by before considering work that you have done, you move toward a more objective position in judging it. The pleasure of the subjective, physical experience in the world is a more distant memory and less influential.

[The photographer's task] is to describe the existing light... Chances are, if you believe the light, you're going to believe that the things photographed existed in the world.

Some of my best work is done when I'm half asleep.

Part of it has to do with the discipline of being actively receptive. At the core of this receptivity is a process that might be called soft eyes. It is a physical sensation. You are not looking for something. You are open, receptive. At some point you are in front of something that you cannot ignore.