
A (half) secret place.
This is why I will continue to be a photographer.
Make both art and money with equal joy and panache.
“I have a deep-seated distrust and even contempt for people who are driven by ambition to conquer the world … those who cannot control themselves and produce vast amounts of crap that no one cares about. I find it unattractive. I like the Zen artists: they’d do some work, and then they’d stop for a while.”
– Saul Leiter
Poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye:
“Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die.”
All my life I have had the habit of liking the idea of things and not the thing itself. Only in recent years am I learning to like something for the thing itself. That means, instead of liking the idea of swimming or the idea of learning French, I am actually swimming and learning French.
It’s nice being in the thick of the action, getting lost and stuck in the substance of things. And what’s nice too, in a perverse way, is all of that other stuff – the challenging, boring, difficult bits, the bits that make you wanna pull your hair out.
Because learning French is pull-your-hair-out hard. It’s really tempting to give it up and go back to liking the idea of learning French and not learning French. But the whole thing is also strangely fun. And I swear it’s the difficult and boring and challenging bits that make it fun.
That’s life for you. I could never understand it. But I’m always excited to be on the ride.
Went to a jazz club in Chicago and there was this grandma nobody wanted to dance with. She wore these shoes with lights and wanted so much to dance with someone. You could see it in her eyes. Once in awhile she’d get up and jiggle, but soon she would sit down again, as if remembering something.
A well-written, persuasive piece about how to change. Always a good reminder.
We must always believe that we can change.