Lost Gangsta Crip 1991

Jim Goldberg made this gelatin silver print, 'Lost Gangsta Crip', sometime around the turn of the century. There's so much raw honesty in the stark monochrome. It's not just a picture, it’s a document, a record of someone’s life. I'm drawn to the tattoo on the child's back; the ink bleeding slightly under the skin. It's a permanent statement etched onto a vulnerable surface. The weight of those words, pressed into flesh is powerful. The photo captures more than what's visible. There's a story here, a narrative hinted at, but never fully revealed. It’s like a Cy Twombly scrawl, hinting at an underlying, unspeakable truth. Goldberg reminds me of Diane Arbus, both unafraid to look at the fringes of society. They share a similar commitment to portraying the unvarnished truth. Ultimately, it's the ambiguity that stays with you, prompting a deeper look, and a deeper think.