Monday, September 22, 2008
This is the start of something I want to work on. Its going to get bigger than this, its going to be more complicated than this, but this is the beginning of it. Part of this is about how we connect what we see everyday to our own existance. Its also a little bit about fragility (my own? nawww). Also, its about whatever it makes you think about. What does it make you think about?
I have a question for you, my readers (all five of you!): Do you ever feel that the closer you are to someone, the harder is it to talk about certain things? For example, I've never been able to talk about my art with anyone I was in a romantic relationship with. Its much, much easier for me to talk about my work to people I am not close with. My boyfriend is a really talented musician, and I think he is the same way. He'll play something for me and we'll nod and not say anything else. If I try to give an observation or compliment, it feels insubstantial. He has told me he feels the same way about my photos. He doesn't hate my work, he just isn't sure how to talk to me about it. Mostly, this is a relief. I feel don't have to explain all these tricky things to him, I can just work in peace. This doesn't just apply to my boyfriend either, I am the same with my best friend. I feel like I fumble around with explanations of things that are usually a more muddled, emotional side of me. Maybe this addresses my own desire to keep my demeanor as controlled as possible. Maybe that's why I make art in the first place; I'm incapable of articulating the more complicated aspects of myself and art is my way to let those things out. Maybe that's cheesy as hell. But, as I told Aurora (whose work is awesome, by the way) the other night, "If I was good at saying this stuff, I would be a writer instead of a photographer."
In other things, this past Saturday I went out with Adam and Aurora to a bar in Visalia to see some of Aurora's paintings and to see some bands, and I was impressed by how cool downtown Visalia is. I also felt a little cheated. How come no one had ever told me how cool it was? How come I had to move to San Jose before I could know how fun Visalia could be? Fresno, take a tip from Visalia: you don't need Sammy Hagar to be cool, you need some local, independently owned restraunts, bars, and shops that are open past 9 o'clock (I'm looking at you, downtown).
Well dang I have hell of gone off on a few things.
Posted by Centa Schumacher at 1:57 PM