Over the holidays, my brother showed me a book of photography by Gregory Crewdson. His work is a sort of anti-Norman Rockwell Americana-esque peeks into an imagined distopic vision of the world.
I LOVE IT.
It’s part cinematic. Part fantasy. Part Poetry. Part reality. It’s art. And I wish I would have found him sooner.
What makes it absolutely fascinating for me is that it combines my favorite genres of portraits with interiors … but the interiors are often sets or just fantastic finds and the people seem so “normal”, quotidian, every day gorgeousness. What an inspiration!
Here are some images that I pulled, but none of them really do his body of work justice.