I never plan anything in an analytical way before I shoot, but when I look back there seems to be kind of a primary color palette.
When I'm shooting in other cities, I'm just trying to make it look like California.
I always work with the same composer, his name is Ali Helnwein. I don't have a musical background.
The eyes sparked a lot of things for me, it could be somebody remembering something they had witnessed or heard about, or it could be the person in the photograph that was experiencing a tragedy or it could also be the spectator looking on from a safe distance.
I think that's one of the reasons it's nice to leave out a lot; it can become a lot more personal to people if there is room for them to put their own experiential time track on it.
I lived in London for small amounts of time, and in Florida and New York.
With photography, I like to leave a lot of the story, even to myself.
I like to use really basic or classic colors, things that people have seen over and over and over again. Primary colors, at least in photography, have been around a lot longer than neon colors and really vibrant purples, hot pinks. Red, blue, yellow, orange - because of Kodachrome and the way that things were produced I think that those colors stood out more than any others.
I am looking for the disconnected connection
I never thought about the green, but LA has a lot of greenery.
It's hard for me to approach [a film] as a still image now that I know exactly what it takes to make a movie. I mean, I know what it takes to make a movie that lasts five minutes.
I think the worst reaction that I could get from someone to my photos is some sort of mediocre, middle-range reaction where they really get nothing from it, and they want to move on to the next thing. [I'd rather they be] horrified, pissed off at me, extremely disgusted at how bad of an artist I am.
I can't even imagine what it is like to make a movie that lasts two hours.
It's always really scary to release new work.
