I finally did a photo shoot with my closest friend as the subject. I had been looking forward to the experience because for a long time I felt that my creative pursuits were lacking spark. It's difficult to explain. Everyone I love is supportive. That doesn't mean anyone understands what I'm trying to say. Hell if I do. I digress, we had our session and it was sadly distant. Not fluid, but rather disjointed. I couldn't figure out if it was my inability to take control, the sun's erratic behavior, or my nieces being lovely little creatures of curiosity. I probably didn't consider the nature of being the big sister & aunt in the room; buckling instead. Not outwardly, of course. The worst thing you can do is fall apart when you're driving. Inwardly, I was... in the dark. My previous shoots had been illuminating studies in human behavior. I basked in conversation and relished the emotional sustenance. I was sure my photos would provide evidence. They did not. Only sometimes. Of course. I'm learning, still! Besides that, not everything is worth capturing. In other words, some moments are best left in daydreams. This time there were gorgeous possibilities I was sure I'd missed. Moments I wanted to cradle, gone. Overwhelmed and maybe insecure about the whole affair and then -
I was able to get a few glorious frames, including this one. I don't even know if they really work or if I'm daydreaming. The lesson here is that the element of surprise, the not knowing, is why I love film, this project, and my relationships... especially with the one(s) closest to me.
I ramble. This can be annoying, but my thoughts are messy and barely alive... like the 20 something plants scrambling for rays in my living room. I blame the drugs I experimented with and the many hours of sleep lost from doing them. In one of my episodes, I tried desperately to remember, through all the muck, what I saw that could change the world… one. The wars, the priests and rabbis, the camps, processed foods, and poor, defenseless animals against the NRA wasn’t enough and their names became part of the muck. 5 big yellow stars later I could only think of a man on a wire on top of the world. What it took to be so far away... Poetry and stillness is the move. Possibly, no, most definitely, a woman, too. It led me to the snowman who once told me he never overthinks. What he really meant was everything is up there, on wire, just not me. Then the Brit who said it was OK to be thought-less for days. I don't know what that means. I want to explain everything and understand what isn’t mine. But a businessman, who I never met before, simply sent me his thought in image form. I remembered just now as I'm listening for Saxman - making me high. I dream of hanging on.
