a few years ago, i dropped photography because i thought it wasn't productive.
holy hallelujah baby, nothing is.
it ached not to take pictures; i dulled the yearning with other things.
so much that i couldn't identify what the longing wanted.
what do i want from myself?
By picking up a camera again, I re-learn what seems to leave me every time I learn it: you are your own worst enemy.
sure it sounds morbid, but anything can sound morbid:
it looks like it's on the tip of its tongue, anyway.
so look into my eyes
and listen to me say "you are your own worst enemy"
you're not actually going to hear me say it, but you can listen to Bible Belt:
(the turning point of this moral story is indicated by a turn of typeface)
So, myself not picking up my camera, continuing to believe that photography just gets in the way--was the enemy. How a life can change by a shift in thinking.
When re-teaching myself the mechanics of a DSLR, I found myself on
From a posted titled, "5 Tips to Take Less Photos of Everything and Take More Photos that Mean Something":
There is a whole world of events that are unfolding in front of us at each moment. Your awareness of them is subject to your willingness to be aware of them, not the existence of them.
It is my choice, then, to pick up a camera, and create what could otherwise go unseen. The product doesn't have to require a split-second capture; it can be a way of looking at something, a slanted view, an angled perspective--
the "mundane" made remarkable--
or a face that can blast its own inhibitions through experimentation--
selfies do not have to be shamefulan advantage of having a face, I believe, is being able to play with it. portraits can raise tensions, erect lifelong insecurities--but your face is your face. allow yourself to be a peeping Tom of your eyes.
looking at my face, embracing its bumps, its angles, its rough patch of skin here, its rounded edge there--helps me stop being afraid of it. It is a piece of art. It is abstract, and can be broken down, admired, critiqued, positioned. A comment about a face doesn't have to tear raw nerve endings. It is just a face, it is not all of you.
And it can make things interesting.
holy hallelujah. i dont have to be afraid of you anymore; i can bring the cosmos to you and launch my qualms to them
I feel that as you are reading this, you feel you already know all of it. All the life lessons. I'm not blaming you, because even as I write, I am sickened by the worn out quotes.
"you are your own worst enemy"
"the world is unfolding"
"make the mundane remarkable"
"believe in yourself"
But we need to come back to them, sicken ourselves with their sugary coated bloated yuckiness; we need them in moments that feel like deep dark deathly hallows harry potter.
death rejoices at lollipops. if sugar quells the emptiness of feeling, alright. ok. ill take all the trite quotes. people think themselves geniuses for penning them; ill pass through them and hold on for a little while, hoping they make a mark of some sort,
so i dont have to travel as far back when i need them again.
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You know those little symbols, often found in novels, that signify a turn in mood or story, thereby exempting the writer from using a considerable chunk of paper space?
http://www.pw.org/content/bon_app_tit_how_food_writing_fed_my_fiction
That clip is from an editorial.
The symbol comes after some vague profoundness is divulged.
That was where the artistry came in.
I'd like to disparage the gall I find in following an empty claim with a floaty I'm-whirling-around-in-the-genius-of-my-last-statement badge, but I won't. Even though I just did.
What's more, I just used the same trick above.
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Because we sometimes need symbols to bore in a point.
If the author feels that his proclaimed firmament deserves a squiggle from the heavens, yes, hallelujah, power to you.
we use what we can to help ourselves believe in something else.
whatever it is.
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