"Is this how it should feel?” “Being an adult?”
“If you’re waiting for anxiety and fear and self-doubt to go away, you’re going to wait forever.” - excerpt from interview with Matt Berringer & his brother. [ find it herehttp://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/03/31/pep-talk-2 ] I relate a lot to Tom in this conversation, feeling late to the game, and lacking self defining titles. The word documentarian came to mind recently, and after a Google search to clarify the words existence, I decided I like the idea of that; writing, taking pictures, filming and telling stories. I'm writing this in the car, from the road with musician friends Betty & Oswald. I've spent half the week viewing everything through a lens, and most of the rest of it through a car window. I've been trying to figure out how to work toward spending my life doing what I love. In the meantime I want to document as much as possible, in search of what feels important. I've been hosted by strangers, shared half my dinner with a dog who belonged to no one, and talked into the night sitting in the gutter with an old friend, answering questions with questions reaching no conclusions but both finding resolution in feeling understood.
"Courage, the original definition of courage, when it first came into the English language — it’s from the Latin word cor, meaning heart — and the original definition was to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart." - Brene Brown [ The power of vulnerability ]
I thought I would lead with this because this is what I hope directs my work, I want to tell stories and I fail to tell them without my heart.
I feel so transparent every time I attempt to freeze a moment permanently; it is both the thing I have always loved doing most and one that makes me feel terribly uncool. I was stopped by uncredited words a while back, "If you want to learn what someone fears losing, watch what they photograph." I wondered if the author wanted to remain unknown, to remain anonymous in their awareness that every frame captured is an attempt to freeze the inevitable passing of time; every photograph taken is a clenched fist grasping moments that pass too quickly.