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best way is online (tomstonegallery.com); but you can
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Rayko
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 Are you a
work of art? Or perhaps a piece of work?
Either way, get a uniquely distinctive natural light fine art
portrait of yourself.
For
yourself, someone you love, or otherwise.
I have limited availability in the short term to
do portrait work in the bay area. Don't
miss out!
Schedule today by
calling the studio line at (415) 992-6366,
my cell at (415) 846-1018, or by emailing
tom@tomstonegallery.com.
30% of online
print sales are donated.
In addition, 100% of the
sales on selected prints is donated.
These
donations get basic supplies to young people on
the street.
Purchase
today.
 Want
to help make a difference? You can donate to
Homeward Bound,
a wonderful organization in Marin.
I've been donating my time doing photography for
their fundraising activities.
I'll be including photos
here from their various
programs.
Tom Stone
was born on a train outside of Mexico City traveling
to Puerto Angel, Oaxaca. His parents separated soon
after his birth and he grew up with his mother in
various communal and nomadic settings in Hawaii
and California.
A graduate of Harvard University with a degree in
computer science, he worked in Silicon Valley for
a number of years in investment banking and in the
technology industry.
He is a documentary photographer known for his portraits
of people living along the edges of society. His
photography shares perspective with the work of
Dorothea Lange, Richard Avedon, Diane Arbus and
Sebastião Salgado.
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Statement
regarding
Poverty Series |
I photograph people who skirt the
edges of things; people whose connection to the
broader flow is murky or obscured. Mistaken as more,
less or different than they are; they aren’t really
seen and don’t really belong. That’s everyone sometimes;
but some more often. I try to establish a line for
a moment. I hope to connect. And I see the most
beautiful and the most heartbreaking things.
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To my thinking, the original
human trauma is our separation. We are
too close not to need each other; and
too far to trust each other. We rely on
dubious senses and clever devices to
interact; but we are alone in our
thoughts. Lonely, insecure and
uncertain; we pair, we group, we
associate. We try to belong and we seek
to exclude. We form bonds by geography,
religion, economy and otherwise. But it
is all precarious. We come together and
we drive apart. |
And we climb our ladder. We step away from those
who don’t belong and help those who do. We are connected
rung by rung – though less and less – as we push
and pull. But some do not climb; and below, the
earth is littered with them. They fit too poorly.
They stand apart. They stand without.
 And what of them; these ones who don’t belong or
who are excluded; who don’t fit or don’t try? Is
there nothing they value? Is there nothing of them
we value? I count it as a measure of our ignorance,
the depth of poverty in the world. It’s a glaring
marker to how far we have not come. Yet it has also
driven our advance; on less fortunate backs and
against less fortunate fate.
But is there really no connection there? Does such
fate – whether choice or circumstance – speak nothing
of us? Tell me we do more than advance in place;
with so many left behind. Or promise me we can do
better. Say we can reflect ourselves; us and them...
That we can see the ways we overlap and distinguish
the ways we grow apart. And pledge that we can learn;
to fit all of our misshapes; to reward value beyond
charity and beyond the marketplace; to be better
to each other; to be better ourselves. And promise
me it could be a better world. Or tell me we are
at our best.
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Photos & Stories |
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gabriel's return
(gabriel six months earlier, san francisco,
april 2006)
...it's 12:31 pm. march 2. 2007.
it's hard to breath sometimes as the pulse
races. or do i just forget to?
the subject line reads "on the road boy"
"i know the boy... he never made it through
the year"
...it's 5:59 pm. april 24. 2006. should
it be this cold?
he's sitting on the corner. like it's his.
he's panhandling.
waiting for a friend to bring back food.
i sit beside him.
as people pass, he's always noticed. some
stop. some continue.
we talk about the road. about home. about
life. about girls.
he's gentler than you'd think. more interested
in things you say. and he cares more too.
he's not sure what's next; but says now's
good.
his friend returns.
...it's october 17. 2006.
it's his gun.
it's his choice.
farewell.
gabriel joshua wolrab, may 3, 1985 - october
17, 2006.
for his mother, his sisters, his brothers,
his friends.
(4/26/06)
Original Photo:
salvation
(girl on pavement, san francisco, march
2007)
the girl sits small. like she's alone in
a tiny space. withdrawn into some shell.
away from all noises and everything.
a woman sits beside her on the sidewalk.
a jacket covering her where she sits. they're
an odd pair. occasionally they exchange
words and glances.
the girl is from oregon. eugene. her name
is cierra "with a 'c' not an 's'". she's
been in san francisco for about a year.
she's been downtown for less time. she doesn't
like it. she was in the haight before. she
liked that.
she says she made certain choices. and one
result was where she had to be.
"choices" the woman echoes. "that's a nice
way to put it."
the woman's name is vicki. says she had
waited here for cierra a long time before
she finally saw her.
vicki just came down from oregon. she's
cierra's mother.
she came to see if cierra would let herself
be "saved".
(3/27/07)
the only thing
she liked
(homeless man, san francisco, january 2007)
it's a warm evening sun. rusty orange and
yellow. and it fits him.
he's been at the recycling plant. been paid.
his name is stephen. he's from new york.
he wanders. pushing his cart. walking in
the road. he adjusts his pants. he stretches.
he doesn't trust me and i can't help hovering.
i can't anticipate so i just walk up. "can
i take your picture?"
"no!"
he's firm in that.
"that's cool; thanks!" i say and head off.
"hold up!" he stops me. asks, what do you
want with my picture?
i tell him i'm a photographer and such and
that i really just liked his eyes.
"my girlfriend said that's all she liked
about me!" he says.
we laugh.
(1/9/07)
waiting on a friend
(old traveler, san francisco, february 2007)
he's waiting for something to happen. or
someone to show. but he's patiently at it.
all his bags are packed. keeping company
beside him. he's just arrived on the greyhound.
he doesn't recommend it.
his name is mike. he's from boston. he has
a way about him. comfortable. like a good
friend.
says he was living in boston shelters; trying
to wait out the housing lists. but, at 70,
says he's too old for living in shelters.
and his eyes get lost for a moment.
says he's staying nights at a local shelter.
they open their doors at 10pm. "can you
imagine?"
says he's been traveling around looking
for old friends. he stopped in san diego
and vegas, and now sf, but he hasn't found
anyone.
says he doesn't know what's next. says he'll
have to wait and see.
and he does.
(2/12/07)
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