The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits.
—G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy
Hello, welcome to the Forest, where I belong.
satisfied. thanks to jia for her face.
Haha got no album in fb for these so I’ll put them up here
today’s simple pleasure
this term’s work
I’m not sure which I’m more interested in: the photograph or the person in the photograph.
I feel that I should be more interested in the person…but somehow the photograph intrigues me more than I care to know the person. Unfortunately I can’t allow myself to take a photograph of a person without admitting to some sort of social reliance or connection. It’s a struggle.
I can’t really dictate the art that I make. I can’t wish I were like another artist, because even if I did the exact same things, they wouldn’t turn out the same. There’s so much inside me that stops me from being a certain type of person, and also so much that leads me to into being another type of person.
The photograph of a person is definitely not the person. It’s not even a memory of the person. It is just what it is: a photograph, an image. Perhaps when looking at an image of a person, it brings up memories related to that person. It’s a visual trigger. But when looking at a stranger…(knowing that the person has some relation to the photographer)…what comes to mind?
I understand that more is needed. But more of what? From them? From…me?
slowly but surely
