No Fucking Clue
As a poet/artist, when you choose to live your photographic life, autobiographically, as I do, it means, for those paying attention to the transformations taking place behind the lens, that your clicks represent all the rumblings and reverberations taking place deep within-mini and majestic.
What takes place behind the lens spills out in front of the lens. It’s inevitable and it’s glorious.
In other words, what you tend to showcase photographically, is a pretty good indication and barometer, of what is happening in your core being. Even though, you, yourself, are often puzzled, even, at times, at a loss, for explaining what is really happening in your life. You just keep clicking and ticking.
It’s all good.
Sometimes being enigmatic and paradoxical, on the inside, is the sure path to hair-raising, beating-heart stimulation, and intoxication.
Go with it. Don’t be afraid.
Most people and I might add, photographers, are scared shitless, of showing their core self, publicly. What will others say?
Will they understand me? Appreciate me? Accept me? Admire me? Approve me?
Will they run to my side? Or run like hell the other way?
Does it really matter? What is most important is what you say.
The only voice that matters is that small voice within you.
Isn’t the authentic you, in pictures, the authentic you, in life?
Are they the same? Different? Congruent? Incongruent? Yes? No?
I’m not at all hesitant or afraid to admit, to the world, that what is happening in my artistic and emotional life, more than often, defies explanation, even rationalization. Oh well.
Sometimes, I have no fucking clue what is going on in the bowels of my complicated inner life.
But I’ve learned, and continue to learn, that something learning to live with being perplexed, bewildered, baffled, is a healthier state of mind, for artists, than constantly feeling a need to have everything dialed in and figured out.
Since when do we really need to understand and make sense of shit.
We don’t. Life is complex and complicated.
Shit happens, without rhyme so reason.
Life happens. Often without our approval and permission.
It just does. Life moves at frenetic speed and with torrential volume.
Life is a beautiful mess.
I’m not honestly sure just where I would be without the love, lust, and learning of photography in my life.
Photography, in my small world, seems to provide counterweights for sanity, sensibility, and sensitivity.
She makes sense. She guides me. She steers me in the path of rightness and completeness.
When I am in her presence, I am full, true blue, inveterate, apodictic.
She is good. I am good. We are good. Life is good.
Click
Jack
