I am making a 30-day journey as a documentary photographer and a diarist into Pioneer Square. My role is that of an outsider. My journey begins in the area of 3rd Avenue and Prefontaine Place, and will present Pioneer Square as a series of portraits -- portraits of the land, the buildings, the people. See previous photo essay .
“Homeless man walking away – Homeless man turning a corner.” I wanted to do more than smile at the man in front of me like tell him I wasn’t here to photograph homeless people. The fact is, however, every photograph of Pioneer Square is a photograph of a homeless person.
I think I feel like a lot of people feel right now: One or two paychecks away from being homeless. That’s an irrational fear though as we have plenty of family and friends whom we have supported who have and would support us again if we needed. But what if? What if our parents weren’t alive and stable? What if we didn’t have sisters? Or friends? I’m thinking of Geoff, whom I’ve met several times who is between jobs and living at a shelter. A week or so ago I found some soft light and shot his portrait. After developing and scanning the film I emailed him his portrait. I haven’t seen him since – of course I’m only in the neighborhood a few hours a day.
In that way I can never be an “insider” to Pioneer Square. James Baldwin taught me how to understand not belonging. It is something I can feel when the homeless think I am sneaking their photograph. It is something I hear, when asking to use a bathroom at a coffee shop on Third and Prefontaine and was allowed to without making a purchase. After a long speech which I heard as “I know you’re not homeless so you can enter.”
These photographs happened by accident, people walking into the frame I was shooting in. Near the entrance to Occidental Park, which was empty, I had set up my tripod, checked the light and focused – when a bride and groom bounced into the park for a very fast wedding photo. We were in and out of Occidental Park in five minutes.
(Jim Gupta Carlson)
Waterfall Garden Park is a hidden resting place; no purchase necessary. I’ve photographed children for years at several portrait studios around town and it is a little embarrassing that I can successfully play peek-a-boo from twenty yards still when a dad and his toddler wander into the frame.
(Jim Gupta Carlson)
In front of Elliot Bay Book Store, Mike, who has apparently been selling Real Change at that spot since before the printing press laughed a little about the prospects of the bookstore moving to Capitol Hill.
(Jim Gupta-Carlson)
