“Killer” is a photo I made on another of my North Georgia roundabouts with my dad. We were out shooting, he for painting reference and myself for Sothern imagery. I found this written on the side of a shed belonging to an old farmstead in Union County, North Georgia. There was no other vandalism or obscenities, just the single word: killer – gripped tight in strangling vines. It stopped me. Was this a written accusation thrown at the building and its owner? Was this a boastful self-descriptor? A warning? A statement about a past deed?
So many things seem to slip by in everyday life. They just “are”. I love to discover the hand of man in the world, stop, ponder and catch it. Perception and reality intrigue me. Which is which? Even the bold marks like this are not clear. The day was when a photograph was considered PROOF of something; it wasn’t true even then, but today with the capabilities of digital editing, that truth has receded even further into ambiguity. “Killer” made me stop, this one time, for just a second, and wonder.