On March 14th, 1923, an American photographer by the name of Diane Arbus was brought into this world and placed in the Big Ol’ Apple. New York City is where she resided with her extremely wealthy family; which wasn’t such a judgemental thing since it basically caused her to avoid the entirety of “The Great Depression.” But she didn’t stay with them very long, at the age of eighteen she decided to marry her high school sweetheart, Allan Arbus, and have two beautiful and talented children. Doon Arbus grew up to become a writer, and Amy Arbus followed in her mother's footsteps and took on the photography world.
Diane Arbus was known for the obscure photographs that she shot during her lifetime, these photographs would appear strange and weird to others when she viewed them as unique and interesting. Diane’s photographs were so unique and bizarre that they stood out enough for her to get recognized in many galleries and even presented with numerous teaching positions all over the country; Diane Arbus even taught photography over at the Rhode Island School of Design (one of the top Art Schools in the country.)
Diane being the New Yorker she's always been, had her first main exhibition at the MOMA, and you better believe that people flooded in. But like any good artist, her success seemed to flood in so flawlessly that she didn’t even have time to witness the downfall. Diane ended up divorcing her husband, losing all motivation in her work, and eventually purposely overdosed on medication and slit her wrists open. July 26th, 1971, we lost probably one of most influential photographers of our time with just a rash decision from an under appreciated Artist and human being.