One of my absolute favorite photographers is Todd Hido. In general, I seem to have a bit of an odd tic where I often find things that other people find sad, dark, or depressing, to be quite uplifting and beautiful. I don't mean that I'm goth at all, seeing beauty in the blackness. No, rather, I actually don't find these things to be sad or dark at all. A great case in point is Lydia Davis' short story "What You Learn About the Baby" which I find transcendentally uplifting, while everyone else who reads it seems to think it is a total downer. I can't really explain what's going on here, and have to just guess I must be wired a little funny. Another perfect example of this phenomenon is Todd Hido's photography. Of course a great many people acknowledge that his night-time houses and empty winter roads are exceptionally beautiful, but writing about his work also tends to include words like "bleak," "lonely," "stark," and "spooky." Maybe they're just not getting it. Or, much more likely, I'm just not getting it. But either which way I always find these images fill me with joy. The wonder of them. The magic. How can that not make me happy?
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