I can let some of the strangest things go by entirely unnoticed until someone points out to me that it would be almost impossible for me to have missed it, and yet I did. However, other times, I can get very caught up in some of the oddest things.
I rather enjoy my small obsessions. They make the rest of the world more bearable. That's party of why photography is so appealing to me. It helps me loose myself even deeper in the world of those things that fascinate me. I have, many times, found myself deeply fascinated by the angle of a specific tree's branches, or by the placement of leaves in the gutters of a city street, or by the shape of a girl's hip.
It actually startles me, from time to time, when I recognize it. Several times I've gone to edit the images from a recent photo session and, as the images from the session unfold, there becomes an obvious, unanticipated focal point in the photographs: the neck, perhaps, or the hands, or a hip, or a certain mood, or theme. More often that not, buried deeply in this nonsensical, unplanned study of a particular human feature I'll find that "wow" shot — that one shot that I keep returning to over and over again.
To me, regardless of how well received that particular image is (if I publish it at all), having a photograph like that from a session brings my appreciation of the results and my value of the experience to an entirely new level. Similarly, models that allow my obsessive nature to take hold and explore aspects of them tend to be those that I yearn to work with again and again.
Some people cannot handle obsessing or being the object of obsession. It's too close; too intimate; too strange. For me, these moments are when the most incredible thoughts and ideas become crystal clear, even if only for an instant.
