anonymity everywhere.

I shot over 300 frames on a shoot I did today for a client.

But the most important photograph I made today had nothing to do with that.


I think this is the most haunting photograph I've made in years. It haunts me to look at it.

And to think I was mad about the 4 hours of sleep I got last night on my $2000 bed, under my $200,000 roof.

I have spent days and days with dozens of homeless men and women—it's been an involuntary attraction of mine for years—and have come no closer to understanding the plight of humanity.

Knowing, but not understanding. The mind can't process past a certain point. I think this is what keeps us from implosion. Honestly, if you could fathom the suffering of this world—inherent and incurred—it'd wipe you clean. Not figuratively—literally: Crush you into oblivion.

This is the price of Godhood. Few folks take the time to consider the other side of Omniscience.

That's why it took a God to suffer it. And we, Standers By, looked on as Gethsemane ensued. The Olive Press came down with the weight of the world.

I see Jesus Christ underneath that sheet; I see him clear as the Noon Day Sun. The photo alludes so vividly toward some Renaissance painting of the crucified Christ, it is just uncanny to me.

And all I can think is "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my bretheren, ye have done it unto me."

wes.