I've been mining a stack of Victorian photograph albums for a series of collages I hope to start in the spring and just had to stop and scan in the ornate cover pages. They remind me of how special photographs once were. It's difficult to see it in the scans, but each page is embellished with glowing gold ink.
I hesitate each time I pick up an album at a flea market, antique shop, etc. I feel as though I'm stealing someone's history and wonder how the album ended up there, who it belonged to, who the people are and what their stories are. More often than not, people are not identified or there isn't enough information to track them down (reminder to self: go through family photos and add captions).
As much as I'd love to know the true stories, I'm content to start creating my own narrative. I'll post some of the photographs from these four albums in the future.
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