Frank Jackson is an enigma. Or an anomaly. Or maybe he’s both? Where does he fit in? I don’t know and that is precisely why I find Frank so interesting.
Want to know about analog photography? Talk to Frank. Want to know about digital photography? Talk to Frank. Want to know about wet darkroom printing? Talk to Frank. Want to know about digital printing? Talk to Frank. What to know about the history of photography? Talk to Frank.
Quiet, tall, observing. Like someone sidetracked from a Jazz career by the sound of the shutter. The smell of the fix and the pursuit of the quietest of moments that deafen with the roar from within. Impromptu but well defined.
And then there is the cup. Filled and filled again. Locations, dates and times. Dateline wherever. Just know it’s always there. Like watching a river and knowing you will never see the same water twice. What is the true cost of not fitting in? There is no cost, only reward.