“what is evident is that even gifted artists make bad art; their genuine ability is in not being afraid to take chances and risk failure.”

robert hirsch

there is more film than food in my refrigerator

i’m reading about facebook’s death policy when i should be doing homework.

mmmmmhmm.

really, i like photography. a lot.

i love the idea of latent images. of something there, but invisible, until an outside event makes it emerge. there are things like that in all of us, for good and for bad.

i love film. i love mistakes. scratches in film and water drops on prints as a reminder that beauty is in the imperfections of life; in the imperfections of people.

i love my roll of underdeveloped film from my first attempt with a medium format camera. there is something there, but hazy and indistinguishable. it didn’t have enough time to really come out. sometimes, you just don’t get to know what would have happened, had “things” been different, had things had more time.

i love the dichotomy between light and darkness. the image is created by light, but must be carefully cultivated in darkness. otherwise it will be ruined and worthless.

darkness in the experiences of life are very much the same.

Something filled up 
My heart with nothing
Someone told me not to cry

But now that I’m older
My heart’s colder
And I can see that it’s a lie

Children, wake up
Hold your mistake up 
Before they turn the summer into dust 

If the children don’t grow up
Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up
We’re just a million little gods causing rainstorms 
Turning every good thing to rust

I guess we’ll just have to adjust

With my lightning bolts a-glowin’
I can’t see where I am going to be
When the reaper, he reaches and touches my hand

With my lightning bolts a-glowin’
I can’t see where I am going
With my lightning bolts a-glowin’
I can’t see where I am going

You better look out below!

is one story subordinate to another?

are questions or answers more important?

there are questions without answers

answers that have lost their questions

(though they had once held them close)

some will never find it

their fit

their lost or not known

but some

at one glorious moment

will see

and know

this is it

this fits

outside of an academic setting, all i write falls flat, misses the mark, has no creative life. (do i just do better when people are telling me what to do? hmm.)

but the only words that seem strong enough to make it out through my maze of emotion are simply and nothing but the blunt and raw and harsh, sans any creative farce camouflaging reality into a softer and more pleasant picture to behold.

and so write i do, but it’s not much worth airing yet.

but despite that,

i do have a Hope that even these dark words are a part of a magnificent story.

a lot

on the other hand, if God puts a dream on hold, you’d better as heck leave it be.

if you keep putting your dreams on hold, will they eventually hang up on you?