
I happen to stumble on a photograph called Greenwood Mississippi, widely known as The Red Ceiling following an hour badly spent. I had spent the previous hour looking at the ceiling amidst the banal setting of different objects in my home. A few minutes later, the image, I have had stumbled upon, opened an unseen world in me. The image was both formerly beautiful and unsettling, like the creeping unease of a Hitchcock film. In the beginning, the photograph disconcerted me, then caught me and besotted me in the most mundanely beautiful way.