I just used to adore them. I still do adore some of them. There's a quality of legend about freaks. Like a person in a fairy tale who stops you and demands that you answer a riddle.
Most people go through life dreading they'll have a traumatic experience.
Freaks were born with their trauma. They've already passed their test in life. By the time of her death in 1971 in Greenwich Village, New York City, Diane Arbus had already redefined documentary photography. In her fifteen year span as a professional photographer, Arbus brought forth a brutal honesty and integrity to her work, making the once offensive, appear quite fascinating. In her photos, physical oddities seemed merely incidental.