I have to admit to you, I am the person who's done probably the least analysis on the selfie, because it's a bit like pornography for me. It's this masturbatory, repetitive act that I'd rather wasn't part of my routine.

I think the twenty-first-century modality is exhibitionism. Exhibitionism is our contemporary strategy for maintaining our boundaries, which is to be boundary-less - to put everything out there before somebody comes and violates or penetrates something that we're keeping sacred.

We are not only a civilization of amateur photographers we are amateur curators, editors, and publishers.

Every time you enter a space, you are on public display. Nothing is private.

The internet does not adhere to the inherent, necessary asymmetry of high-versus-low-art categorizations that we use in the cultural sector: in a banal sense, all photographs on the Web are orphans ready to be claimed.

Photography's relationship with pornography is as old as photography. That kind of unholy relationship is formed from the very beginning, and there's a reason why: it's thoroughly enjoyable to be that voyeuristic. Voyeurism is a very old modality, and most of the history of photography is in some way related voyeurism.

There's something quite magical that can happen when a secret is no longer a secret - or is a shared secret or a common secret. By allowing those boundaries to be porous, certain forms of oppression may be lifted.

I love bells, clocks, watches - and I recall that at first photographic implements were related to techniques of cabinetmaking and the machinery of precision: cameras, in short, were clocks for seeing.

The limitation of the vlog format is that it may seem to give people enough, when they actually have no real autonomy.

In an era where digital or virtual is the default, the actual coming together into a physical space has to be an experience that you don't want to miss.

Photography is, and has been since its conception, a fabulously broad church. Contemporary practice demonstrates that the medium can be a prompt, a process, a vehicle, a collective pursuit, and not just the physical end product of solitary artists' endeavors.