I witnessed these images in a dream. One cannot change their mind with respect to black and white images. Once you see the images and store them in your mind it is trapped; irreversible and rarely disposable. Attach sound to the images in question and there is an entirely new entry and association, perhaps even an adventure, afterwards. Personally I love and desire high contrast black and white photography over color—an outlook on life in the arts—it goes without saying. Color is complex, black and white is implicit.
In a human moment, each image I shoot in black and white reminds me of how crowded and noisy our world in color can be, along with other factors including touch and taste. If I were ever subjected to art rehabilitation, I might want to do so in black and white without having to handle the weight of primary, secondary and tertiary color charts.
Pretend this is not puzzling. Try to think of this kind of rehabilitation as re-seeing beauty: in the interest of tempting imagination, slowly evolve a new and particular way of holding onto the images until they are processed into words. Now, try to avoid color all together frame-by-frame. Was it too late?
Surprisingly color most likely crept back in along with taste, touch and sound. The images were the inlet but the mix was the outlet. It was not a wasted procession by any means, yet one did steal over the other in the end.
Pretend this is the law: the choice in question, resolved by application, which has the most significant relationship to issues therein: absence of doubt and precision are definite and with distinction.
For as long as I can remember, I have never been able to eliminate color from my dreams. My examples are as follows: