I've never been a fan of photorealist painting, and for a while I kept swearing off photographic reference entirely and trying to paint only from life, as more than one of my college professors had urged.

However, I've come to accept that I simply love the narrative possibilities of photographs, particularly those from the classic American family album from 1950 to 1975 or so, when cars were stylish, clothes were tacky, and the middle class still roamed free and oblivious.

These photos always go through a kind of tactile aesthetic process where I try to make the images become my own, and hopefully avoid the stilted and boring sandtraps of photorealism.

The advent of digital photography has made this habit even more gratuitous, I'm afraid.