I’ve been thinking about the fleeting nature of everything. Photography, drawing, memories, all of it. Photography lets us immortalize what we see, and can express emotion about what we see. Drawing can do the same, except on a much more personal level.
We always have our cameras strung around our necks and we constantly snap photos of everything we see or find interesting. Then we take even more pictures, until the settings are just right. We all revel in photos that are nicely composed, have perfect lighting, and capture what we want in the frame. We scoff at photos that are blurry, dark, or badly framed, unless for an artistic purpose. I say we because I am the same way. Being a traveler in Europe and having an unbelievably short time in every place I visit makes me no stranger to the snap-photo-and-move-on syndrome that affects so many of us.
If we step back for a second, stop taking pictures, and just look at what we see, will we feel any different? If we happen upon our destination, look, listen, breathe, without snapping a single photo, will we feel any better? Will we appreciate the memory, appreciate its fleeting nature, attach a new importance to that place? Will our hard drives love us more due to the smaller quantity of digital baggage, of repeat photos taking up unnecessary space?
This doesn’t apply to just photography and tourism, but to everything. Things, people, memories, jokes, nicknames, places, events; they all have a beginning and an end. Is it better to hold onto as much as we can, carry it all with us? Or is it better to simply let it go, let it scurry away, let it fade?
I’m a victim of writing everything down. I literally write almost everything I see that I find important or useful. I carry a pocket notebook for this very reason. Am I senselessly holding onto every memory I can by immortalizing it in words? Are there simply some things I shouldn’t write down? Granted my writing has never been better, but where do I draw the line? Where do we all draw the line?
I’m thinking about keeping this blog, but not having a live feed be posted to Facebook. Instead, I want to start another blog that is solely for writing. I will provide a link on this blog for those who are curious. I will post links to Facebook when I have something worth reading on that blog. Or I will just link both to Facebook.
I’m sitting on a plane to Barcelona. I can’t say too much; close quarters. I’m surprised I’m able to write legibly. This is a smooth plane ride (for the most part). I’m only writing in here out of fear for the revelation of the material in my other journal. God knows I can’t help my own wandering eyes; what makes you think anybody else can help theirs? I’m beginning to lose motivation to do anything: read, write, study architecture, move, eat, sleep. I’m surprised I’m even able to write now, in such risky circumstances.
I guess I am learning though. I’m learning (firsthand) that hesitation will kill you, self-preservation is bullshit, make your intentions known right away, and talk things out with people. Never be afraid to say what you’re going to say.
I think we humans are so weird. We always feel insignificant, unimportant, not worth other’s time. Why? I know I’m worth it, but it’s almost a social rule, a tacit code, that one must, in the interest of modesty, believe he is worthless.
So my roommate from the ‘09-‘10 school year (and future roommate of the ‘11-‘12 year) makes dope mixes. Do yourself a favor and give this a listen, and buy it. His boy (and by extension my boy) Mikey D needs some $$ for some equipment. Support your ragers!!
“…I like to be alone. I like fast, finely made cars, I like lonely motels with their ice machines and eerie anonymity; so sometimes I get behind the wheel and, without warning, without particular destination, drive all alone as far as a thousand miles.”—Truman Capote
Still would rather chew off my own leg. At least I’ve been reviewed already and bought my new sketchbook and set of pens. Still feeling apathetic and bored. Still a lot on my mind. No matter; even though I have a lot to do until tomorrow night, I feel good about getting out of France for a week. By tomorrow night, I’ll be in Barcelona with a great group of people.
I’m sitting in mid-term reviews right now. Well, not sitting in them, but sitting in another room with other kids, all of us avoiding the inevitble boredom and apathy we’ll feel while viewing other people’s projects. I just want my project reviewed so I can go to the art store and get a new sketchbook and set of pens. So many other things on my mind.
“It’s very simple. If you tell a beautiful woman that she is beautiful, what have you given her? It’s no more a fact and it has cost you nothing. But if you tell an ugly woman that she is beautiful, you offer her the great homage of corrupting the concept of beauty. To love a woman for her virtues is meaningless. She’s earned it, it’s a payment, not a gift. But to love her for her vices is a real gift, unearned and undeserved. To love her for her vices is to defile all virtue for her sake—and that is a real tribute of love, because you sacrifice your conscience, your reason, your integrity, and your invaluable self-esteem.”—Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand (pg. 284-285)