I Write to Tell You of a Baby Boy Born Only Yesterday...

David Eustace's subjects read like a Who's Who in the world of art, cinema, music and design: Tracy Emin, Sophia Loren, James Earl Jones, Radiohead, Paul McCartney, Milton Glaser to name a few.

His work is held in both private and public collections, and Tom Brokaw's television series Along Highway 50, was inspired by David's portfolio for NBC's art based project.

Introduction
David Eustace
Photographer
Hon Dr of Arts / Photography

This book is a snapshot, a rather long exposure perhaps, covering many events and encounters that I’ve been fortunate enough to experience these past two and a half decades. Some of these moments took place only weeks ago, while others were recorded, almost 25 years ago, at the very early stages of my love affair with the medium. Every photograph is of my past and in compiling this publication I have been able to begin a new chapter, chronicling them not only for myself but also for an audience far greater than my existing one.

Some years ago I lost almost a third of my negatives in a house fire. If you’d asked me before the event how I’d feel at such a loss I’d probably, justifiably, have described it as my worst nightmare. Time and circumstance made such an event a reality yet, strangely, feeling trapped in a nightmare was not my eventual conclusion. Indeed if anything I viewed the episode as a valuable life lesson; I gained a deeper understanding of the continuous learning process that the medium has offered me. Many of my negatives and records are sadly gone and many others damaged beyond repair. However, the memories of my encounters still exist and that is what is truly important to me in photography. My camera has facilitated introductions to new people and places in my life that arguably would not have occurred otherwise. My desire to take photographs was not destroyed that day. Curiously, I became very interested in how the fire had given these negatives a new look and purpose. Twisted and scarred, these negatives were still a record of my past. Now these little strips of plastic had indeed witnessed and recorded another chapter in my life that prior to such an event would have been unimaginable, and which was never their primary purpose. I’ve come to appreciate over the years that we rarely tread the path we anticipate.

In my early teens I accidentally came across a letter telling of my adoption. Prior to this I had no idea Id been adopted and in truth it meant little to me, or so I thought. The world I lived in then was so very different from the world I’m fortunate to experience now and the images contained within this book were not even a pipe dream in my teenage years! One thing has been consistent and that is my unwavering interest in people and places. I’ve always been open to change and tried to embrace the idea that all things happen for a reason. As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to appreciate the journey in front of us all and the magical opportunities we must make every effort to grasp. I strive to capture these moments as a record of the journey.

So why wait 20-odd years to publish a collection of my work?

Well, the honest truth is I really don’t know. I suppose it’s a little like pressing the shutter of a camera and knowing it just feels right. Perhaps it’s now time for a change or a new direction in my life and work or just time to document my past. The answer, then, might be my instinct tells me now is the time!

The opening words of the letter, dated the day after I was born, were little more than that, just words to me as a teenager. However the older I became, their wording, meaning and all that was written thereafter grew in importance as I began to think of how the letter had affected others especially those for whom it was intended: my adoptive parents and, equally, the woman unaware of its wording but very much aware of its story, my birth mother. Events and circumstance can often bring strangers together, even in brief moments, but some of these moments can have a momentous effect as time forms a clearer map of who we are, or who we believe we are.

My photography, like my letter of adoption, is incredibly personal. The photographs form a major part of my identity and record the journey I’ve experienced this past quarter century. These collections of the images offe