Polly is a thief.  Through the lens of her camera she steals lives.  Nobody notices the theft as, camera in hand, she walks through parks and busy city streets.  Nobody raises the alarm.  Each romantic couple, pensive child and craggy pensioner goes into the memory card without a struggle or sound.

At home she sits with the prints in front of her, imagining herself as the subject of them.  Every print goes into her scrapbooks; thousands of purloined lives catalogued and available to her.  She is an empty wall, to be covered inch by inch in a collage of stolen moments.


~ by Electro-mechanical Man on March 14, 2011.

2 Responses to “Polly”

  1. This is my favorite one so far.

  2. Thanks Geoffrey, I’m glad you liked it. I have a (very) amateur interest in photography, and street photography always makes me feel like I’m engaged in some vaguely illicit activity. I can never quite shake the sensation that I’m stealing something with every press of the shutter.

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