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During the time the
Friends of Photography was still in Carmel, I was invited to hear a famous
photographer speak about her work.
On the way to the lecture, I was involved in a car crash. I was unhurt,
but the other car flipped over on its side and a woman was trapped
inside. The car was burning and I was afraid it might explode. A hero
I am not, but I was the only person able to reach her in time. Somehow
I managed to pull her free and the fire department arrived and extinguished
the fire. I was shaken. Life and Death were so close. One minute everything
is fine, the next, nothing.
I continued on to the lecture, and needless to say I was late. It
had already started. I put my ear to the door and heard sounds of voices
speaking of F-stops and zones and composition. I could not open that
door and go on. I listened and realized that this was not my world.
As much as I wanted to be a part of the photographic community, I could
not open that door.
I stood there for a long time listening, smoking a cigarette. The
longer I stood, the more I realized, the more deeply I realized that
I was not and could never be, a part of this community. Our concerns
were different; our aims seemed to be at odds.
I became very sad. Here was a group of people I liked and wanted them
to like me, yet I could not walk through that door.
 I turned, and saw a small garden of rose bushes. Someone that day
had pruned them and the roses lay scattered on the ground.
I quickly went to my car and got my camera. When I returned, I started
photographing. With the sounds of voices, laughter in my ears, a sense
of mortality in my heart, I began photographing.
This may well be the darkest group of images I have ever made. I realized
it at the time, yet it was necessary to do it. Actually, I did not
want to make these photographs, yet I had too.
This sadness came upon me, this great overwhelming sadness. For again
I knew I was on my own, ever to walk my own path.
I look at these photographs now and realize they do convey an aspect
of our reality.
At the time I made these images I was between here and there, very
lost and alone, searching for meaning in my life, meaning I could love
with in a world that made no sense.
Now after so many years have passed, I understand that anyone
who is on the journey of self-understanding must pass certain defined
points along this passage. Each person’s journey is unique,
the points are universal. Whether these points destroy us or ennoble
us is up to the individual.
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Tom Millea
Carmel, 2003
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