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♠
I took out my camera, because the woman's weirdness inspired me. People usually think the beautiful is photogenic, but for me, it's the ugly, strange, violent. The beautiful depict what we want, but the ugly portray who we are.
-- "Shooting Elvis" by Robert M. Eversz
Nina Zero has yet to join the paparazzi, but she already has the lifetime habit of taking pictures upon which to reflect on life. When I come upon someone like this, I regret that I did not pick that up in my life. Going back to high school, when I came to know Marie, who was one of those photographer-types devoting her efforts for the school yearbook, I felt covetous - like that is what I should be doing.
I feel a little sad that I don't have stacks of photo albums full of pictures from my life. Pictures of old friends, when Monk was more normal, pictures of teachers and professors, pictures of the cute girls and crushes and lovers, pictures of co-workers, pictures of the places we lived, pictures of the family getting older and dying.
Pictures are a more direct representation of our past, in the sense that a written journal necessarily carries an interpretive cast, a better depiction of one's state of mind at the time than of the event, persons, or things related. And I did not even maintain a journal that long ago. Pictures are just such solid evidence, such that we can go back to them and reconsider the subject anew - we change, the picture doesn't.
On the other hand, there is something to be said about forgetting. And just remembering what we want. And even reinventing the past. But I like to torture myself.
xXx
I took out my camera, because the woman's weirdness inspired me. People usually think the beautiful is photogenic, but for me, it's the ugly, strange, violent. The beautiful depict what we want, but the ugly portray who we are.
-- "Shooting Elvis" by Robert M. Eversz
Nina Zero has yet to join the paparazzi, but she already has the lifetime habit of taking pictures upon which to reflect on life. When I come upon someone like this, I regret that I did not pick that up in my life. Going back to high school, when I came to know Marie, who was one of those photographer-types devoting her efforts for the school yearbook, I felt covetous - like that is what I should be doing.
I feel a little sad that I don't have stacks of photo albums full of pictures from my life. Pictures of old friends, when Monk was more normal, pictures of teachers and professors, pictures of the cute girls and crushes and lovers, pictures of co-workers, pictures of the places we lived, pictures of the family getting older and dying.
Pictures are a more direct representation of our past, in the sense that a written journal necessarily carries an interpretive cast, a better depiction of one's state of mind at the time than of the event, persons, or things related. And I did not even maintain a journal that long ago. Pictures are just such solid evidence, such that we can go back to them and reconsider the subject anew - we change, the picture doesn't.
On the other hand, there is something to be said about forgetting. And just remembering what we want. And even reinventing the past. But I like to torture myself.
