I went down to the Bowery, photographed people sleeping under doorways, women with hair growing out of their noses. I made these beautiful big prints and I looked at them and I thought they were so ugly. I ripped them all up. What's the point? Why should I have to make beautiful pictures out of basically ugly things? I get no joy out of taking pictures of the tragedies of life. I'd rather show the beauty. That's the only fun.

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