George Kelly recently gave me this portrait of myself.
I think this photo is great because it relies on the viewer for a lot of its meaning. Any nonphotographer looking at this would have no idea what the thing is in my mouth. A whistle? A carpentry tool? A pocket knife? But to many film photographers the thing in my mouth is instantly recognizable and narrates exactly what's happening here. Not only that, it narrates our entire 2 week European journey.
It's a photo that's at once unapproachable and completely specific, depending on where you're coming from. Why can't all photos be like that? Oh, right, I forgot. They are.