The Mighty, Mighty, Half Truth Returns

I started a personal portrait project in late 2007 and exhibited at Artomatic in 2008 along with a couple other smaller venues. My energy for personal projects largely took 2009 off, however, it is back along with another project that will kick off this summer.

Each image is titled with a statement made to shock or mislead along with a number that leads to the whole truth. While the viewer hunts for the real story buried in the handout, the brain conjures up a Half Truth based on the image and way too little information. Sometimes the view is right, mostly they are mislead, but more often, they are surprised how quickly they started to fill in the void while they hunted for more information.

This image came out of a photo shoot that a former photography student did at the ArtSpace last week and I sat in on the camera for the last few minutes. Debbie (pictured) doesn't know what her half-truth is going to be, but we are sure it will be an interesting surprise.

I am actively looking for more people to sit for this series. You don't have to already have the most fantastic story ever in mind in order to join the project (but it helps). The statements can be of any variety from deeply troubling to euphoric. We will work together to get a fine image and a great half-truth.

This is the text from "My Granddaddy Ran Moonshine: This an other Half-Truths"

My grandfather, Linwood Phillips of Colebrook, NH, was a sawyer, farmer, lumberjack, millworker, factory laborer, driver, stablehand, and through the loins of marriage, tied to moonshine.

He never smoked or drank and to anyone who shares intimate knowledge of the man, broke any law of consequence. His father-in-law ran a still during prohibition and had a federal as kin to ring the alarm before the revenuers arrived, keeping trouble at bay and the family liquor supply intact.

The half-truth now reigns supreme across the bottom banner of Fox News, finds the post of prominence at the New York Times and spins like a top from the mouths of politicians looking to subvert reality on the shaky foundation of a dolled up lie. It speaks to our weaker bones as we craft stories from stereotypes, both magical and magnificent, terrible and divisive. The half-truth lives with us each day, keeps us going, dodging the uncomfortable malaise of a life more plainly spoken while we subvert our conscience and skip past the consequence of our true thoughts.

We are in charge of our own story and the ones we create for others. The mighty, mighty, half-truth, handle with care.