Barbed wire has always fascinated me, starting as a young city boy who would go camping and hiking with my Father we would run across it from time to time. I just found it interesting how there was these few strings of wire that kept animals in or out. Or how trees would grow around it, just consuming it and making the wire it's own. Though I have ripped a favorite pair of pants on it before and gashed a nice pair of leather boots I still am intrigued by something so simple and amazed at how I it makes me stop and look so often. The simple things in life sometimes I guess.
I LOVE barbed and concertina wire. And yes, it has an amazing life of its own, doesn't it? I love the tones here, the choice of sweet spot, and the amazing soft quality of the picture despite the subject matter being sharp and unforgiving.
Barbed wire facinated me until I joined the Marines. Not so much now, but you have done a fantastic job capturing an emotion in what has become a symbolic wire. Great job.
I don't love barbed wire at all, but I was a farm boy so I got to push great rolls of it around, and also to unwind it by hand when I'd forgotten my gloves. And later to climb over it when I was in too much of a hurry to walk down to the gate (Tip: climbing over it ALWAYS takes longer than walking to the gate).
I have since tried to photograph the stuff a few times though, and I never got a result as good as this. Maybe the wire senses my residual loathing?
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