In November 1990 I was living abroad. Prior to leaving the U.S., I made an adequate living in entertainment—yet I was one of the working millions of Americans who didn’t have health insurance. After seeing how efficiently socialized medicine worked in Europe, where Doctors did not live like kings—it was incomprehensible that Americans be deprived of the basic right to be healthy.
The few photos that we have of my late father-in-law before he endured the atrocities of Auschwitz are of him young and happy riding his bike on the streets of Poland.
Every week I looked forward to getting my copy and would read it from cover to cover. It influenced me to the point of when I got to New York I proudly walked down 57th Street, passed Carnegie Hall http://www.carnegiehall.org/ and into the Newsweek office, declaring myself a reader and got the ear of the Human Resources representative.
I found that Paris was then and I believe still remains the world capital of literature. I had so many thoughts of Paris before I went there the first time as a student in 1980. I imagined myself as a European when I was a child. My imagination wasn’t any European. I imagined myself as a Parisian.
Still I am fascinated by candid shots and prefer them over a pose. Having acquired a taste for medium sized cities, I’m also drawn by the dynamism of city streets
Everywhere I go I see misguided kids lighting up, begging for life threatening diseases. I can’t help but wonder if they have ever seen the nastiness of a smoker afflicted with emphysema or heard how they labor at speaking from all the wheezing and hacking they do.