I want to start doing a thing where I examine a photo that I took (or am in some way connected to), and write about it and whatever it brings to my mind.
Today’s photo is this one that Julia took of me sitting in the bathroom of this broken down house across from a Cape Cod church. We were giddy at the time with the rush of trespassing somewhere beautifully decrepit. I remember at the time this photo was taken I was processing consternation that I wasn’t feeling present despite being in my element (on a risky adventure in a broken down building). The inspiration of the moment would subside into a formless, low humming anxiety. There wasn’t one particular thing that was bothering me that I could point to or address– this has been happening a lot recently. I think it’s about the general feeling of growing up really quickly all at once – the infamous sensation all beings are trying to avoid.
It’s interesting because I used to love being in the fog – I used to love uncertainty. Only looking at what is directly in front of you. But lately I have been straining my eyes and mind to see further past a wall of mist that is ultimately opaque.
I’m tired of scouring every panorama for a deeper understanding – colorful views are rendered unsaturated in my mind’s eye. It’s like I’m at this juncture where the inspiration so closely associated with summer just won’t flow for more than a few hours. I struggle to accept that my brain just isn’t the romantic blob of humanity that I know it can be - for right now at least.
Contentment with the ‘lostness’ of this chapter – that’s my goal. Everyone’s lost and purpose is an illusion – but a sense of purpose is as real as you choose to let it be.
So here are some of the things that remind me to wake up and get out of bed every day – and why I think filmmaking can be such a valuable thing to pursue to improve the world.
It’s as simple as making something that will make someone else smile or release a feeling of any kind. Art and passion chip away at the weight inside of people.
To tell the story of anyone and be in a receptive state to see the beauty in every lifeline I intersect with. To continually re-realize that everyone has an equally complex existence regardless of the surface appearance.
So for this picture I want to recognize it for what it means to me, and for what it will eventually mean: a time where I was really unable to appreciate being surrounded by beauty. This picture may remind me that landscapes, artifacts, and panoramas really have nothing to do with the physical world.