Six feet and one inch of homegrown original excellence, raised up out of countryside days in sun and wind until soft purple dusk and steeped in art from an early age in vast oppressive locales of Nothing, but marginalized too and made no real friends – now alone like a monstrosity or mistake given to semi mystical and unorthodox approaches, a monk of cameras and images, but even moreso words.

Went to school for two years but right through the doors it turned into a conveyor belt. Now doing my own thing with what time may remain before the Universe finds a way to kill me or my lungs and liver give out from the daily dipping of toes into a deep dark pool that laps at the shores of my soul.

The last vestige of a simpler kind of creature bent on obsession and pursuit of something beautiful, a portion of posterity carved from the unquantifiable and preserved forever, a fixed fantasy that never could have come to pass, but DID. For split seconds and marked moments in my own Mad Scientist Way I’ll peel aside the curtain and let you see through to the other side.

My name is Carroll and I take photographs.

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