Great Black and White Photographers PART 3

When I initially viewed Lee Friedlander's photos, the peculiarity of them caught my eye. Some of his pictures are also a little creepy. They look like they're out of a thriller movie.

I see an artistic genius, utilizing his own body as the subject of this photo. I smell whiskey and cheap, dollar-store cigarettes. I hear the shutter of his camera snap, over and over again. I taste citrus floor-cleaner, compensating for the general mustiness throughout his entire household. I feel the emptiness and sorrow in the air, unaware of the cause.

I see four iconic teenage boys, each with their faux leather jackets. I smell the streets of New York, a potent mixture of feces and pollution. I hear the simultaneous honking of dozens of cars' horns. I feel the foundation of this marvelous city under my feet, and everything it's been through. I taste the pungent dryness of my mouth, I haven't had a glass of water since last night.

I would like to make a powerpoint to display Lee Friedlander's photography.