John Claybrook at a macro level
Released into a world, a mass of land stretching far beyond the eyesight of a newborn. You cannot see what is not in front of you; perhaps this near-sighted vision is not a barrier for the young. Instead an ability to help adhere one to the senses of their surroundings. With this, I hand you my baby, wrapped in a protective covering, meant to explore a world and see with eyes belonging only to you. A camera is more than a plastic box, it’s a source of sight, an exclamation of world exploration.
With eyes, we stretch our vision in search of inspiration, understanding, and involvement. This can keep us from seeing what is right in front of us. The most complex world cannot be viewed only from afar. Looking closer is imperative to understanding the larger picture. My work most often expresses a view that crops the blurry vision of a newborn. Focusing on the nearest subject, that which can be touched, emits a smell, or within hearing range. Objects passed by daily, perhaps above your head, or below your feet. A busy world consumed with a fast pace, focuses on the horizon, an ending. Within my work is the opposite, a vision of textures, the weather-beaten life of an inanimate object, a beginning for understanding what is between our feet and the horizon line.
I focus to change the understanding of what one thinks they know. Having felt a blade of grass, smooth, bendable. The understanding changes after seeing this same blade at a macro level. Grooves like a fingerprint allowing a movement manipulated by the wind. Multiple ravine’s herding morning due to its roots. Simply more to every aspect of life if analyzed closer with eyes of a newborn.