Yesterday, on the commute home, I was sitting back and suddenly became aware that the sun was preparing to set. An amber glow was filling up the whole bus. Not only the specific angle and personality of the light, but the public place, the young passenger in front of me, the dusty windows, they all made me think of Philip-Lorca diCorcia. The same photographer who said this:
It might be said that twilight is a muddled form of clarity. The warm glow that suffuses the ‘ golden hour’ in Los Angeles acts to filter the grim realities, the outright lies, the self-deceptions, which allow Hollywood, and by extension, America to flourish. ‘Twilight’ provides the rose-coloured glasses that make it possible to see out but not see in.
A couple images in particular sprang to mind. Both came from diCorcia’s Hollywood (or “Hustlers”) series. Each title reflects the subject’s name, age, place of birth, and the price he requested to be photographed. The first: “Mike Miller, 24 years, Allentown, Pennsylvania, $25.”
The second: “Eddie Anderson, 21 years, Houston, Texas; $20” (1991).
So I grabbed my iPhone and slyly snapped a photo.