We've All Had Both Kinds of Day

One of the reasons I enjoy street photography is that it quietly reminds me how much we invent about people.

We see someone for less than a second and decide they're confident, miserable, friendly, impatient or successful. The truth is we usually haven't got a clue. We're simply filling in the gaps because our brains don't like unfinished stories.

I photographed these two women on a busy London street because they seemed to be carrying completely different days. The woman on the left looked purposeful, almost as though she knew exactly where she was going. The woman beside her looked as if she'd happily accepted that the day was going to unfold however it pleased. Neither expression lasted more than a moment, yet that's all a photograph ever gets.

The funny thing is that, within a minute, both of them might have been laughing. Or annoyed. Or wondering what to cook for dinner. A single frame can convince us we know someone, when all we've really seen is a fraction of a second.

It's something I catch myself doing all the time. I'll photograph someone and immediately start writing a story in my own head. Then I remember how often I've been completely wrong about people I've known for years. The chances of understanding a stranger in one click of a shutter are probably somewhere between slim and non-existent.

Perhaps that's one of the quiet lessons street photography teaches, although "lesson" is probably too grand a word. It simply reminds me to be a bit more careful with my assumptions. The person who looks annoyed may just be squinting into the sun. The one who appears carefree might be carrying something you'd never guess.

Photographs freeze expressions, but they never freeze lives.

Maybe that's why the best street photographs ask questions instead of answering them. They leave just enough room for us to wonder, while quietly reminding us how often we mistake a moment for a person.