TBow

Using his camera as a passport, Love Street is Tom Bowden’s ( known as TBow ) portrait diary of human life in America. Known for his inimitable style, TBow somehow turns potentially unwilling subjects into compliant participants in his portrait making. Love Street is a unique look at people, documented through the lens of an ambitious observer of the human condition. The renowned documentary photographer Maggie Steber writes: “Nowadays, much of street photography is detached. Not TBow’s. He is a visual minstrel and troubadour. People are comfortable with him and they reveal their stories. Interspersed throughout the book are short texts that tell stories about some of his subjects. TBow’s work is excellent and evocative and beautiful.

Tom ( TBow ) Bowden’s fine art monograph “Love Street,” now available by clicking the “Book Store” tab on this site.

“If you look through the lens long enough and hard enough, wonderful things will appear.” TBow

Kat and Freddie traveled the entire U.S. “riding the rails.” Every year they returned to New Orleans to renew their marital vows. I saw Freddie the following year without Kat. He told me that his “drunken rage” had ended it all.

Johnny ( Jazanae ) has secret places, hidden in the woods and under a downtown bridge. It was here where we talked about her struggles with homelessness and being sexually non-binary. In these sanctuaries she feels safe to become Jazanae and enjoys making photographs.

Stephen and his daughter were homeless. She went to live with her Mother and gave Stephen her backpack to help him carry on.

Kenny told me, "Michael Jackson is my Guardian Angel and believe me, you need protection if you’re living on the streets.”

On Christmas Day I met Mad Dog at a homeless camp under the freeway. After losing his wife and child in a car crash he said, “I went a bit mad after that, so they call me Mad Dog.”

Coon said he was a “Traveler.” He told me he moves from town to town by hitching rides and when he can he does some “freight hopping” on trains.

I first met Dorothy and Bernard in 2014. I photographed them over the next few years through the ups and downs of their relationship. In this image, Dorothy has just told me that they are trying to get an apartment and may end their wandering ways for awhile.

After her breakup with Bernard, Dorothy was left on her own and her emotional and physical decline was startling to me.

We met in the lobby of the Bourbon Orleans Hotel on a rainy day. I was desperate to photograph someone and she was trying to get bus fare for Florida. She told me her family had disowned her. After listening to her stories and taking several photographs, I pitched in $20 for her bus ticket.

“The worst thing about being a tourist is having other tourists recognize you as a tourist.” Russell Baker

I saw an interesting woman and she gave me permission to photograph her. I found out later that she was Jill Freedman, a famous New York City Street Photographer. Jill passed away in 2019. RIP Jill

After the downtown bars close at 2am, Marshall collects the cans. He works all night and by morning has an impressive pile worth $40.

Candy had just gotten out of the Hospital after giving birth to her new baby. When I asked her what she liked to do she said, “When I’m not keeping people company, I like to get high, stay warm, and go to church sometimes.”

His friends were yelling, hurry up, hurry up! I had about 5 seconds for this shot.

Chris lives in a shelter and writes poetry. He asked me to please use his Tibetan name, Chotak. I asked him for a poem and he obliged. “I feel haunted and unwanted as the full moon begins to rise, in this deserted castle beneath the darkening skies.”

“The best fashion is on the streets. It always has been and always will be.” Bill Cunningham

One second after this shot, the Carnival Boss started screaming at me for money.  Learn to move quickly on the street, get the shot, then become invisible.  

Every street photographer in Miami seems to have a shot of The King. Sometimes known as Santa Claus, he wears this festive outfit throughout the year.

It was early morning in the French Quarter and he was headed home from work. He told me he was exhausted from a long night of partying which for him included being bitten and bruised.

David wanted to make sure I told people that he was proud of the word “prostitute” and that he was the best male prostitute in the city.